In the quiet room, when death’s shadow hung so heavily that even the roses on the nightstand had lost their vitality, the young woman sitting beside the bed nursing the old man—Thea—stared into empty space.

Her blonde hair was dull and lusterless. Her faded blue eyes glowed gloomily.

Her gaze, tracing through the air like she couldn’t see the future, felt suffocating, but Thea’s expression remained calm.

This year marked four years since she’d begun nursing her father-in-law.

She’d long since resigned herself to a reality that never changed.

When her father-in-law suddenly coughed, the woman looked down at him indifferently.

“…Shall I bring you some warm milk?”

“No need.”

“Or shall I fetch medicine to stop the cough? You refused the medicine Dr. Brown gave you the night before last and sent it away.”

It was a question asked out of courtesy, but for the old man confined to this room, it must have been sufficient warmth.

Between his faintly breaking voice, only words of gratitude flowed out repeatedly. Though that didn’t move her heart.

“…It’s nothing. It’s my duty.”

“Child, has Acel come home?”

At the question, she froze for a moment, then moved toward the curtains billowing violently in the wind, acting like nothing had happened.

Then she grabbed the curtains with such force that the veins stood out on her hands.

Because she’d thought of her husband, Acel Winter, who resembled these soft curtains.

Famous for his courteous smile and gentlemanly behavior toward others, he was the lord who ruled this territory and a Count.

Due to his abilities falling far short of the previous Count now lying in this bed, he was always full of inferiority.

That inferiority exploded the moment he obtained the Count’s title, leading to their current reality.

A speck of imperial blood made him look noble, but since he couldn’t live up to the form, he was often ridiculed by the surrounding nobility.

That’s why she could understand his thuggish behavior that he only showed to her.

Since others pointed fingers at him calling him trash, his insides must have twisted even more.

As his wife, Thea understood him a hundred times over and then some.

‘Yes, that’s all. Just understanding.’

She thought she’d done her best as a spouse.

Understanding a husband she wasn’t even close to wasn’t easy.

No wonder society revered her as a “saint” or “holy woman.”

That’s how difficult a person her husband Acel was. Despite spending quite a long time together, she still couldn’t read his mind.

Exhaling a heavy sigh and ending her brief thoughts, she whispered softly to her still-curious father-in-law.

“He… hasn’t come yet. He must be very busy with work. You know yourself, Father. The Count’s position involves so much work.”

Her father-in-law knew this was an excuse, pretty on the outside but rotten within.

He must have heard long ago that she was handling the Count’s duties in his place.

She was simply lying so this old man wouldn’t feel sad.

Everyone in the Count’s household knew.

That Acel, the master of this house, wouldn’t visit yesterday, today, or tomorrow.

It was well known that seeing even a single strand of his hair or his face was difficult.

He hadn’t properly come home since his father collapsed from illness.

The reason was that he didn’t want to enter a house that smelled of death.

She’d told him countless times that was just an excuse, but her husband didn’t give a d*mn. This region where Thea lived was particularly harsh toward women, and not caring what one’s husband did was considered a virtue.

Especially for her, who wasn’t from this region but had married in from far away, it was exceptionally cruel.

The severe treatment she received from her mother-in-law when she first married was a famous anecdote in this region—how she’d turned deathly pale for a year after the wedding.

Feeling the hatred she’d tried to bury rising up, she only bit her lip.

She’d barely managed to bury those feelings after her relationship with her mother-in-law improved later, but they crept up whenever she saw this pitiful, pathetic father-in-law.

This wretched scene existed because of the husband her father-in-law waited for day and night.

Even knowing that fact, she deeply resented her father-in-law for still looking after his son.

“He won’t come, Father.”

“I see. You’ve suffered much, but please endure a bit more. You’ve done well until now, so you’ll continue to do well. My son is just too young, isn’t he?”

Her eyes hardened at the words suggesting that with time he’d mature and things would be fine.

That absurd statement was already three years running.

If he was going to mature, he would have done so already.

How could the story never change?

Even knowing how much of a trash his son was, her father-in-law still asked, and she found him both despicable and pitiful. As she gripped the curtains tightly, his breaking voice tickled her ear.

“When Acel… returns, please tell me. I should tell him he worked hard today. He’s such a good, kind boy.”

There was no way her father-in-law didn’t know what even she, his daughter-in-law, could see.

Yet disappointment and hurt washed over her at her father-in-law calling his son kind, but she didn’t respond. She only blinked while staring outside where darkness had fallen so thickly she couldn’t see ahead, then carefully closed the window.

She could picture him screaming that a ghost would jump out from outside the window any moment.

With his body weakening, he seemed to see all sorts of illusions.

Just the day before yesterday, there’d been a ghost commotion.

Her father-in-law had run here and there in a frenzy.

She’d rather not have that happen again.

“Father, I’ll have the chef prepare a light snack for you soon.”

“No need. I have no appetite.”

He raised his gaunt hand and waved it gently to show he was fine, but her expression didn’t soften easily.

She looked exactly like someone who’d witnessed something unbearable.

When her father-in-law awkwardly lowered his hand and closed his eyes in the sudden silence, she exhaled deeply and moved her feet toward the door made of solid oak.

What echoed in the quiet room was faint breathing and the sound of her heels.

When the offbeat rhythm meshed chillingly, she opened the silver-gleaming doorknob and moved her body halfway outside.

“I’ll see you in a bit.”

“…All right.”

Her father-in-law reluctantly answered her greeting, then turned his head to the opposite side. It meant for her to leave.

Even becoming an old tree of a man, his personality remained the same. He’d die before accepting anything that didn’t suit him.

She’d thought four years would be enough time for him to open his heart.

‘I guess not.’

Thinking about how much a thorn embedded in her finger could hurt, she slowly crossed the corridor and stood at the top of the stairs leading down, where coldly gleaming marble statues came into view.

They were statues a merchant had brought in recently, but every single one was n*ked, which made her feel embarrassed.

Everyone said it was nothing, but strangely, whenever she stood before them, her body heated with embarrassment.

It felt like secretly stealing glances at pristine statues.

That’s when it happened, while she stared like she was entranced. A small bell sound came along with heavy footsteps.

Startled, she turned around to see the butler walking toward her with a lamp in one hand.

The small bell attached to the lamp rang softly, and the sound of the butler’s shoe heels echoed loudly. Soon, when he stopped nearby.

“My lady.”

The butler’s call came. Her body trembled slightly at the call.

Worried he might have seen her pathetic state.

But she quickly acted like nothing was wrong. Actually, she had something to say.

“Did you properly send the letter I told you to send?”

“Yes, but… a problem has arisen.”

“What problem?”

It was just sending a letter.

The butler had assured her there would be no issues. But suddenly a problem?

When she frowned slightly and raised her head at this incomprehensible matter, the butler cleared his throat lightly.

“The bridge to the neighboring town has collapsed, so communication will be impossible for the time being.”

“Why did the bridge collapse?”

The river hadn’t flooded, heavy rain hadn’t fallen. Nor had she heard news of repair work.

Then the assumption arose that someone had deliberately destroyed it.

When Thea couldn’t shake her puzzlement, the butler began gently rubbing his dry-looking hands with a deeply apologetic expression.

From that sight, she could understand what had happened.

If the butler was apologizing for something he didn’t need to apologize for…

The story was obvious.

“…Did he cut the bridge? While spouting nonsense again?”

“Yes… my lady.”

At his flat tone, her vision went pitch black.

Recently, when she’d attended a noble council meeting in his place, she’d been suspected of going to meet some man.

‘I told him nothing happened then…’

He must not have believed her. No, if he’d believed her, things wouldn’t have reached this point.

‘What was I believing in?’

When she knew better than anyone that he was untrustworthy.

Her fingertips grew cold with the rushing emptiness. Not only that, but the tips felt slightly numb. Dizzy from this reality, she raised her pale face toward the butler.

“How many times must I tell him before he accepts truth as truth?”

“I’m truly sorry… I can only apologize. Even though I was by his side, I couldn’t stop him.”

At the butler’s continuous words, her breath caught in her throat, but she barely held onto the escaping air.

“I understand, so please go. Don’t you have work left to handle?”

“I’m sorry for not properly handling the matter, my lady.”

“It’s fine. What fault can I find with you? Since the bridge is destroyed, give the letter back to me. I had more I wanted to add anyway…”

Perhaps this worked out better.

‘Yes, maybe it worked out well.’

Being able to retrieve it before it fell into her husband’s hands.

After handing the letter to the butler, it had continued to weigh on her mind.

Her fingers had itched so much wanting to revise the missing content several times. And then this accident happened in the midst of that.

She gently soothed herself, thinking heaven had helped her.

The butler was respectfully holding out the letter.

She lightly snatched the letter in front of her, turned her body, and headed upstairs. Throughout climbing the stairs, the stairs she bumped against felt exceptionally solid.

Surely because her heart was heavy, they felt harder than usual.

Is that why she gripped the innocent letter so tightly? Before she knew it, she stood before the office.

The moment she reached out to turn the doorknob, she discovered the door was slightly ajar.

When closing the door, it had seemed slightly misaligned, and now it appeared to have finally broken.

Thinking she should call a repairman tomorrow to fix it, she moved her hand slightly and pushed the door with her index finger. It opened obediently.

Slipping quickly through the opening, she saw the fiercely burning fireplace.

“…I’ll have to rewrite the documents.”

With unhesitating steps, she stood before the fireplace and threw the letter into the flames.

A letter that couldn’t be sent had no place in her hands.