“More precisely, she hates noisy places where Fairville people are present.”

“I understand. I don’t blame her.”

Izer had asked Celian only once whether she would attend the banquet. For Celian, ‘Fairville’ was a medium that made her recall her father’s death, Winston’s atrocities, and her miscarriage all at once just from that word alone. Even if she showed the slightest positive sign, Izer would have seriously dissuaded her, so he had no intention whatsoever of bringing up the topic again with a woman who absolutely hated it.

“Are you okay with it though?”

“With what?”

“It seems like Fairville isn’t a very good memory for either your wife or you. Sorry if my guess was excessive.”

“……”

In Fairville, he had heard the story that his wife had been kidnapped. It was also in Fairville that he had mistakenly thought she had died miserably without even being able to find her body.

However, Izer replied calmly.

“Not as much as my wife.”

At least he no longer had dreams of Celian dying. When he barely had enough time to care for and love the real Celian by his side, having the luxury to ruminate on past pain was wasteful.

But Celian was still trapped in that day. Suddenly his chest felt stuffy as if a stone had been placed in one corner of his heart.

Edmond gestured for him to sit.

“There’s still some time before the banquet starts. Sit and have some refreshments.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Izer silently only put cookies in his mouth. The coin-sized cookies were convenient because there was no need to bite them and drop crumbs.

An attendant poured tea into his cup. A familiar color and scent — valerian.

Everything surrounding him reminded him of his wife. Izer, who had been staring down at his teacup, asked.

“When do you feel happy, Your Highness?”

Edmond’s eyes sparkled as he leaned forward.

“When the Duke generously invests his family’s wealth for me?”

“I’ll speak frankly. You should stop associating with Captain Schwenn. Your sense of humor has become similar.”

At his utterly stiff words, the corners of Edmond’s eyes drooped. He was about to curse with his eyes that he was indeed a boring man, but seeing Izer’s expression, he made a serious face.

“If you don’t regret the past, it’s easy to be happy. What matters most is not holding on to the choices I didn’t make.”

“……”

“What if I had done this, what if I had done that, what would we look like now if I had made this choice. We could have been happier. We wouldn’t have had to experience things we didn’t need to experience—.”

“……”

“They’re all pointless thoughts. What changes by thinking about it? And really, if I had made that choice, could a better situation than now have arisen?”

Slurp, the sound of Edmond drinking his tea broke the silence. Izer sat unable to move and pondered his words.

‘Regret, lingering attachment, possibility.’

Seeing Izer lost in thought, Edmond waved his hand. If he looked at the Fairville delegation with that face, the friendship they had barely formed might erupt into war again.

“If you’re going to make that face, go. The reason I asked you to come was hoping you might bring Marquis Berienne along. You without your wife is just a supporting role. If you want to stay, fix your expression……”

“Thank you.”

“Izer?”

In the blink of an eye, Duke Chesterfield had turned his back. Watching his retreating figure disappear through the door without a chance to stop him, Edmond let out a hollow laugh.

“I’m going to get scolded by His Majesty……”

Well, what can I do about what’s already happened.

***

Celian picked up a pair of small scissors with a proud face. The colored thread dangling on the fabric was cut cleanly with a snip. Soon the fabric also found freedom from the embroidery hoop.

“Done.”

She had finally completed a new handkerchief for Izer. For Izer who liked neat things, yellow wildflowers were fully contained on white silk fabric with lace minimized. It took a bit more time than expected to delicately express the small petals.

She had embroidered Izer’s initials in the lower right corner of the handkerchief. While she had embroidered her name for him in her girlhood, now they were both proper adults, and a gentleman carrying around a handkerchief with his wife’s name on it seemed utterly lacking in style.

Celian, who had neatly folded the fluttering fabric and placed it on the table, rose from her rocking chair. Bess, with a cloak over her shoulders, greeted her through the door crack.

“I’ll be back, sister.”

“Be careful and don’t be late.”

To commemorate the delegation’s visit, James III had opened the national treasury wide. From Humingham to the provinces, today was a festival day for all of Treven.

However, Celian said she wouldn’t go out. She had no interest in festivals without Izer, and she refused to go out and risk being recognized by someone.

Moreover, the weather wasn’t good either. Celian reached out and closed the window.

After several clear days, clouds had been gathering since morning. Dark storm clouds were unwelcome guests at a time when festivals were being held throughout the country to commemorate the delegation’s arrival.

The ominous weather was also the reason she had decided to spend the night at the villa. It was too dangerous to fall asleep at the ducal residence when she didn’t know when Izer would return.

At the villa, she slept deeply without wandering around at night. Still, since the weather was gloomy, it seemed she should check the windows once more.

Only after going around this entire floor did Celian head downstairs.

As soon as she opened the front door, the fishy smell of grass under moonlight enveloped her. She worried about how ruined the lawn, which the gardener had cut to uniform height, would be in a few days. The hydrangea seedlings that the gardener, anticipating the storm, said he would care for in the small greenhouse until the weather improved would at least comfort both her and the gardener’s heart.

The walk that started in the garden continued to the shadowy backyard. She was walking toward the back door after finally checking the kitchen shutters.

“……”

Celian’s eyes sank coldly.

Someone was behind her.

She calmly reached for the back door while scanning the surroundings. She saw a rake leaning against the left wall. It was a bit big for her to handle, but it would serve as a decent weapon.

However, the intruder was faster than her. Before Celian could grab the rake, thick arms snatched her waist.

“Kyaa!”

“Shh, it’s me.”

“Izer?”

Celian, held in the man’s arms, turned her head to look up at the intruder and asked.

“Why are you back already? You came in sneaking around like a thief, I almost hit you with the rake.”

He was still in his tailcoat. A warm cloak settled on Celian’s shoulders as she looked puzzled. After tying the cloak ends in front of her neck, he took Celian’s hand and pulled her along.

“Izer, what are you doing? Where are we going?”

The direction he was heading was definitely the back gate. In the darkness, something that looked vaguely like a horse seemed visible. Izer walked one step ahead of Celian and answered calmly.

“Kidnapping.”

“Huh?”

“In the East, they also call it ‘bo-ssam.'”¹Historically. In the Joseon Dynasty, 보쌈 referred to a custom where a widow was kidnapped (often consensually) to be married again, since widows were legally restricted from remarrying. The man would “wrap up” the widow in a blanket and take her away — hence the term 보쌈, which literally means “wrapping.”

She had heard about it while teaching Bess. It was said to occasionally happen between men and women who had feelings for each other but whose adults’ interests didn’t align, causing them to pine. She didn’t know why this impure Eastern custom had come from his mouth now, a year and a half after their marriage, but Celian focused on more practical aspects.

“You should give me time to pack.”

“Don’t worry. Everything’s ready.”

The man who had been holding the horse bowed his head upon seeing the duchess. A sack presumed to be luggage dangled from the horse’s flank.

Celian told the secretary who offered to help that it was fine and leaped onto the horse’s back. The horse, which had been unpleasant about having to run through the humid air, became docile after a few touches from her.

Izer soon climbed up behind her. Celian moved her pelvis toward the horse’s neck so he could sit comfortably.

“It’s not good weather for escaping on horseback. It looks like a storm will hit.”

“Not right now. It seems like it’ll come from dawn.”

“How do you know?”

“There are things you learn when you live as a gardener’s son.”

Giddy-up, before she could stop him, the horse began to gallop. Now she didn’t know. Celian comfortably leaned her back against her husband. The scent of sweat proving he had come in a hurry mixed with his body odor from his firm chest.

***

The horse left the center of Humingham.

Izer’s words that it wouldn’t pour rain immediately were true. Izer deliberately drove the horse to a quiet riverside, avoiding the bustling downtown where people crowded. It was the first time for both of them to ride the course they sometimes used for recreational horseback riding at night.

Had they been riding for about two hours? Izer, who had been following the river, turned toward a mountain path.

“It’s a road with many trees. It would be good to duck your head.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re almost there.”

Below a low hill, people moved among sporadically lit lights. Most of the land in this rural village, where even the tallest building was at most two stories, consisted of small fields.