Though she never spoke it aloud to anyone, at every banquet where she encountered the Young Duke afterward, she witnessed his tragedy.

“The form varied, but in my dreams he always sacrificed and was sacrificed.”

“…”

“No matter how hard I tried, the future never changed even once… I had no choice but to look away, and then you appeared.”

But at the Foundation Day celebration where Chartia entered with Julian, Rachel saw a changed future for the first time. More precisely, his tragedy stopped appearing.

She couldn’t be certain why his death no longer appeared, but she wanted to interpret it as positively as possible. That this woman, who seemed to be her friend in the future, was someone so special she’d changed his fate.

“After meeting you, I stopped seeing the Young Duke’s tragedy, so I believed a miracle had happened…”

But she’d forgotten that these eyes existed only for misfortune, not happiness.

“Instead, I started seeing you—you sinking into pitch-black darkness.”

Her confessing voice trembled.

Even in the original work, Rachel’s prophecies never went astray, and now she was prophesying Chartia’s own tragedy. Yet Chartia felt neither fear nor surprise.

‘I see. But how is that different from my previous life?’

The past lived in misfortune and the future becoming unhappy felt no different. Then there was no reason to worry about it now.

She only wanted confirmation of one thing.

“So, does he become happy?”

Does he survive to the end and meet a different ending?

Before that cruel question that thoroughly excluded herself, Rachel dropped her head. The hand gripping Chartia grew more desperate.

“Chartia!”

That cry alone was answer enough. She would become unhappy while Julian ultimately survived.

She felt more relief that his future had changed than any negative emotion from her own misfortune or death.

Whether it was because he and Rosé got together, or because her struggles helped even a little, she didn’t know… but she even let out a small laugh.

However, the moment transparent tears dropped from Rachel’s eyes, that joy vanished instantly.

“When you’re going to be unhappy, when you might die, how can…”

Rachel roughly rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Chartia hurriedly raised her freed hand, then dropped it.

She hadn’t expected anyone would grieve over her death, would shed tears like this.

Apart from being her only friend or her growing fondness for Rachel, she hadn’t realized she’d become such an important person to the other party as well.

Instead of making excuses, Chartia barely placed her hand, stiff like a wooden block, on Rachel’s shoulder.

“Don’t cry.”

“…”

“I’ll try not to die. Okay?”

At the clumsy comfort, Rachel stopped crying and stared at her blankly.

Unlike the ridiculous consolation, the endlessly serious face held worry and sincerity, so Rachel could only embrace her pitiful friend tightly without even wiping her tears.

* * *

A morning dawned that seemed no different from usual but was somehow different upon closer inspection.

As soon as Chartia woke, she dressed neatly and attended the family meal. It was a breakfast consisting of her preferred foods to commemorate her birthday.

“Do you like the food?”

“Of course. Thank you for taking care of this when you must be busy.”

“What thanks? It’s only natural.”

Her father, who’d carved out time from his busy schedule to attend, spoke firmly. Olivia, nodding along beside him, added.

“It’s been the same every year, but today feels especially special.”

Her voice was heavy despite her happy face.

“Now, let’s finish eating first.”

The meal that followed flowed smoothly in a cheerful atmosphere. However, Chartia couldn’t quite focus on eating and kept glancing at an empty seat. Rosé’s seat.

She’d been told there was an urgent matter at the palace, but that probably wasn’t the only reason.

Feeling bitter for no reason, Chartia put down her utensils. The fact she couldn’t fully enjoy this time wasn’t just because of the Rosé problem—Mother’s problem was tangled up in it too.

She’d agonized until late last night, but ultimately only the person involved could provide answers. Chartia tried to broach the subject, then hesitated.

She didn’t want to ruin the atmosphere when they were so happy.

‘I’ll ask tomorrow.’

Having decided that, Chartia peacefully finished the morning.

However, once noon passed, that peace vanished like a lie. Because in the afternoon, she had the appointment she’d been waiting for so much.

[Around the end of autumn, could you spare me just one day?]

Making such an impulsive request at the beach had been out of pity for her affection that had to disappear like foam as soon as she realized it. Because that emotion would die without ever blooming, she thought she could be that greedy.

But the situation had changed since then. When she received Julian’s letter mentioning that day’s promise, Chartia had to add one more legitimate reason.

She’d already confirmed from the person himself that their relationship was real. So now it was truly time to end things. 

She planned to meet him and mention breaking off the engagement just before parting. To be precise, since it was merely a union between families, what if they changed partners?

If she proposed it first, he could accept it much more comfortably.

‘I didn’t know I’d be having this conversation on my birthday of all days.’

It was quite a harsh punishment for her greed.

Newly dressed, Chartia checked herself in the mirror repeatedly. Her pale face was now tinged with color, and her deliberately raised lips looked reasonably natural.

They could finish peacefully and beautifully, smiling at each other and expressing gratitude for their efforts.

With her resolve hardened, she left the room with determination. Rushing to leave on time, she encountered Rosé at the entrance of the estate.

Chartia stopped with a start, then immediately stepped aside. Since Rosé seemed to dislike even greetings or encounters, she planned to leave quietly like this.

But unexpectedly, Rosé spoke first.

“Are you going to meet the Young Duke?”

“Hm?”

More surprised than when they’d accidentally met, she ended up nodding reflexively. Of course, if it would be discovered eventually anyway, it was better to speak honestly. Still, she couldn’t afford a misunderstanding. Chartia quickly added a reason.

“I have something important to tell him about the fake engagement.”

Even so, she expected anger or obvious displeasure.

Rosenia nodded surprisingly nonchalantly.

“Have a good trip.”

Even a kind greeting came back. It was exactly like her reaction before their relationship fell apart. But unlike the gently curved smile, only her eyes remained coolly sunken.

“Though you’ll be back soon.”

At the bottom lay certainty, determination, mockery, and contempt all mixed together. Revealing all of it without hiding anything, she left.

* * *

The place where she’d arranged to meet Julian was the bookstore she’d taken him to before—‘Forest of Print.’

Since it was the last time, she’d chosen it thinking it would be nice to spend it at the place they’d first shared. Above all, the area was quiet.

The carriage finally stopped at the familiar scenery. As soon as the coachman opened the carriage door, a large hand suddenly extended. She thought it was Sir Aaron, but unexpectedly it was Julian, who’d arrived first.

“Thank you.”

She grasped his arm briefly and descended from the carriage. Once on the ground, she could finally see his condition clearly.

He looked healthy without injury, showing no aftereffects from the previous incident. And he seemed to have become a bit more beautiful, like in the rumors.

In contrast, her condition was below average no matter how generously viewed. Though it looked fine when she checked in the mirror, her body that had grown thinner while ill and her worsened complexion bothered her more for no reason.

Perhaps her worry wasn’t unfounded, as Julian, who’d been gazing down at her, asked with a slightly stiff face.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

She hadn’t expected to be caught so quickly even with makeup. Chartia recited the same excuse she gave others.

“Ah, I caught a light cold because of the cold weather.”

“If you’re not feeling well, you didn’t have to come out…”

‘Didn’t have to.’

Even knowing it contained concern, those two words stabbed like a dagger. Didn’t it reveal all too nakedly that she was the only one who’d counted down to this day?

Right, even this promise must be close to an obligation for him. That fact was more bitter than all the medicine she’d swallowed, making her limbs ache more for no reason.

“I’m almost fully recovered, so I’m fine.”

She barely maintained a smile that seemed ready to crumble already.

“Let’s go inside quickly.”

As always, the man whose habit was kindness offered courtesy instead of further dissuasion. He guided her inside like supporting her and personally selected books to give her.

With each book he chose piling up, Chartia had to firmly grasp her wavering heart. Because all the books he handed her were similar to ones she’d chosen at the bookstore in the past.

Misunderstanding her subtle expression, Julian asked carefully.

“Are books really enough? Other gifts are fine too.”

Chartia hugged some of the books she’d received preciously.

“This is enough.”

“Then let me choose one more—no, three more books.”

Chartia glanced at Julian’s profile as he focused on selecting books again.

She’d actually thought he might bring up his relationship with Rosé first today. Even if the man made of kindness hesitated to confess, she’d steeled herself for an uncomfortable distance to form.

But he was no different from usual—no, troublingly more affectionate.

‘Should I bring it up first after all?’

Before this thin composure shatters completely. Before it becomes harder to say goodbye.

Perhaps sensing her gaze lost in thought, Julian suddenly tilted his head.

“Chartia?”

Chartia met his clear face. Maybe now was the right timing to bring it up. With that impulse, she suddenly spoke.

“The thing is…”

But she couldn’t finish and closed her mouth again.

‘Not yet, not yet.’

She hadn’t offered any greeting to suddenly speak of the end. Chartia folded and refolded the surging passionate sentences, then conveyed only the small sincerity remaining at the end.

“I wanted to say thank you.”

“…To me?”

“Yes, for the book gifts, but… thinking about it, you’ve always treated me kindly.”

Julian, momentarily speechless, visibly reddened around the ears. Then he soon smiled, closing his blue eyes.

“Those are words I should be saying. You were the one who first brought me here, who gifted me books—you, Chartia.”

“…”

“I’m cherishing the books you sent. I really enjoyed reading them.”

At the added story, Chartia barely swallowed a rising sigh.

The first gift she’d chosen for him had been books. But she’d believed it failed meaninglessly.

‘That wasn’t it.’