Waking from a light doze and blinking groggily, Maude felt as though she had become a princess from a fairy tale. One of those old, well-known stories—about a princess who slept for ages under a curse, or something like that.

Well… it was something along those lines.

In any case, her current situation wasn’t all that different. She might not be a princess, but she felt she could understand a princess’s heart better than anyone. A morning passed with Maude letting out heavy sighs.

It had already been three days since the kidnapping. She’d said again and again that she was fine now, but no one would listen. She’d tried telling Dr. Hobbs, her attending physician, too—but it had all been in vain. It was the first time she’d ever heard such a firm tone from him.

“You’re still weak. You need rest. I’ve already informed the Duke as well. Ah! And of course, His Grace the Grand Duke too. If you don’t comply, miss, this old doctor might never be allowed back into Hablein Estate again.”

Of course, that would never really happen. Dr. Hobbs had been her physician since before she was even born. She knew he was only saying it to keep her in bed, but still…

She couldn’t just brush it off.

So today as well, Maude lay in bed like an unfortunate princess. Turning onto her side, she stared blankly out the window. Even in the early morning, the heat was already seeping in—it promised to be a hot day. Beyond the fluttering white curtains, there was only one thing on her mind.

A picture-perfect man, quietly closing the window against the summer rain.

The thought made her smile. Suddenly, she sat upright and softly padded over to the window. Taking her usual seat on the bench, her eyes were drawn to the neatly aligned books.

No one had touched them since he’d last been here. Anyone could tell at a glance—it was Kyle’s work. Maude’s smile widened until her cheeks puffed up. Her gentle gaze drifted over the books. From the bottom of the stack to the very top, even the order was flawless.

Sarah often got confused, but Kyle had never been wrong. Not once—in over three days. Just the other day, a servant had accidentally rearranged them, but after Kyle left, they were back in their original order.

If you looked closely, Kyle had an excellent memory. He could flip straight to the right page without checking the table of contents, and even while keeping his eyes on her the entire time, he’d read everything perfectly. He never once forgot the page where they’d stopped the day before. It was impressive… and, somehow, wonderful.

Of course, Kyle hadn’t started out reading to her. At first, he’d simply stopped by every evening on his way home from work. But at some point, sitting up in bed facing him had begun to feel awkward and embarrassing. That was why she’d asked him to hand her a book—but…

“I’ll read it to you.”

What she ended up holding wasn’t a book, but something she’d never imagined. Casually picking it up, Kyle read the title aloud.

“For Rosenta.”

The moment his soft, low voice reached her ears—

Maude finally understood why the sea witch had wanted the little mermaid’s voice so desperately. And why the prince had never been able to forget it.

His voice filled the quiet room, gently tickling her heart. The story itself added to the mood as well—the male lead of For Rosenta, Derren, was a naval captain. Kyle’s voice as he read the opening chapter, which began with a letter, was still vivid in her ears.

“For Rosenta, I would do anything. I don’t care if my heart is torn apart and ruined.”

But perhaps because it suited him too well, the more she thought about it, the stranger it felt.

Of all books, it had to be that one.

“These are letters written to her, but I hope they are never delivered. I will send them all to you, so please burn them. I want to remain a villain like this. I hope Rosenta can easily forget me, as if we never knew each other.”

He’d spoken with such sincerity that she couldn’t help but think of him instead—and her smile faded.

Her heart gave a sharp twinge, like being poked over and over. With a troubled expression, Maude looked down at For Rosenta. In the end, Derren never returned to Rosenta’s side. Only the letters he left behind were delivered—and they brought her nothing but pain.

The fact that she hadn’t yet read to the very end suddenly felt like a relief. Forcing her lips upward, Maude quietly slipped For Rosenta into a drawer and hid it away.

It wasn’t a story she wanted to hear in the voice of the man she loved.

***

Yesterday, and today again, rain poured without pause. A torrential downpour. Perhaps because of it, Rems Royal Hospital felt even more oppressive than usual. Screams carried along with the rain were enough to send chills down one’s spine—but he didn’t so much as blink.

Dressed from head to toe in the pitch-black of night, that man was Kyle. His eyes beneath the dark umbrella were utterly indifferent. Before long, loud footsteps approached—the hospital staff, coming to open the gates.

As the staff in raincoats heaved open the tall iron doors, a harsh scraping sound echoed through the air. It wasn’t pleasant to hear, and both men frowned as deep, noisy screeches rang out, matching the heavy creases between their brows.

The dreary scene of the rain-soaked gray building and the rustling leaves of the lined trees felt ominous.

Kyle stepped slowly through the iron gates. This place, now Rems Royal Hospital, had been a monastery until sixty years ago. After it was relocated to Bergen, the abandoned structure had been converted into a royal hospital.

As he entered the entrance, the waiting hospital director greeted him warmly.

“You’ve arrived.”

The director immediately gestured to the staff about the umbrella. One of them stepped forward to take Kyle’s umbrella, water dripping steadily from it—

“It’s fine.”

The refusal was gentle, yet firm. Startled, the director hurriedly waved the staff back. Only then did Kyle finally turn his gaze toward him.

“I need a towel.”

Before Kyle had even finished speaking, the director’s sharp eyes had already locked onto the soaked jacket.

“I’ll prepare one at once.”

Desperate to curry favor, the director barked orders at the staff. Accustomed to it, they moved quickly. Soon, a towel of unusually fine quality was placed into Kyle’s hands.

“I apologize for the lack of preparation.”

“Lack.”

An irritating choice of words—applied to a luxury towel supplied to the imperial household, no less.

Kyle stared down at it coldly, then handed it to a staff member who was drenched to the bone. The startled man waved his hands in refusal, but it was no use. Kyle pressed the towel into his arms.

“Those who need it more should use it.”

“Th-Thank you, Your Grace.”

Watching the two of them, the director bit his lip before finally speaking again, struggling to hide his mortification.

“Haha! Of course. It’s an honor to witness such consideration, Grand Duke.”

The flattery continued, but Kyle didn’t respond. In a flat voice, he merely asked for the location of the room.

Faced with Kyle’s rigid demeanor, the director spent the entire time wiping sweat from his brow. Leading the way to the second floor, his expression darkened. His grand ambitions of currying favor with the Grand Duke had long since vanished.

Now, there was only one thing he wanted: for this cold, barren man to finish his business and leave as soon as possible. Perhaps that was why he climbed the stairs a little faster than usual.

The moment they reached the second floor, the sound of iron bars being shaken filled the air. Screams and shrill laughter echoed down the corridor—this was the true face of Rems Royal Hospital. Its sole specialty: mental illness.

At least, officially. Some patients were perfectly sane—family problems, illegitimate children. Things people wanted hidden or disposed of. This was a place that handled such matters… for a price.

As they reached the end of the corridor, the clanging from a secluded room grew louder. A man was screaming nonstop.

“You bastards! Let me out right now! Do you know who I am?! Hey!”

The man shouting in terror was Mildred. His rampage showed no sign of stopping. The director, wearing an awkward smile, muttered under his breath as he moved ahead.

“Haha… perhaps we should administer another sedative.”

Kyle watched Mildred’s trembling hands through the bars with dry, emotionless eyes.