Not long after Isabelle finished speaking with her parents, someone knocked on the door.

It was Tenetta.

Ignoring the wishes of the room’s occupant, who wanted to rest, he pushed the door open and stepped inside her bedroom—only to sneer the moment he crossed the threshold.

“So, you collapsed, yet still had the presence of mind to make excuses to the Count and Countess? How touching… or should I say, admirable?”

It seemed he had met Hexter and Viole before coming to see her.

Isabelle looked up at the man, who appeared displeased that she had carefully glossed things over with her parents.

‘What is wrong with him?’

She could never quite grasp the fluctuations in his mood.

At least the Tenetta she had married had been, for the most part, agreeable. But the man before her now—far more irritable—was difficult to read.

Though, whether he seemed in a good mood or a bad one, he was equally unpleasant.

As he casually took a seat in the chair beside her bed, Isabelle replied without hesitation,

“I just didn’t want my parents to worry.”

“Then you should’ve come up with a more convincing excuse.”

How much more convincing could it have been?

Isabelle had done her best to explain things to Hexter and Viole. If they still couldn’t believe her, she didn’t think that was her fault. The situation itself was too unbelievable.

Tenetta, who had been staring at her as if dissecting her, finally spoke.

“A story about an unfortunate marriage that turns into love—where someone ends up foolishly giving everything away—is terribly cliché.”

“That’s not what I told my parents.”

She had mentioned the circumstances.

“If someone is accused of heresy, marrying a clergyman can prove their innocence. And it just so happened that Your Highness needed to marry quickly due to the matter of succession…”

“Fortunately, it seems His Highness believes our family isn’t heretical.”

“…Something like that.”

At no point in that conversation had there been any mention of love—or anything so absurd as offering up one’s life.

Wherever Tenetta had picked up such an idea, it certainly hadn’t come from her.

And yet, he still seemed dissatisfied, his brow refusing to smooth.

Isabelle found herself watching his neatly set lips, wondering what kind of crooked remark would come out next. She was also curious who could have told him something so strange. It certainly hadn’t been her parents…

At last, the man who had kept her on edge spoke.

“I hear I told you I was marrying you for mutual benefit.”

“Yes, so—”

“Then wouldn’t we remain distant for a while, only to end up unable to live without each other in the end?”

‘This madman.’

The moment Isabelle realized that it was Tenetta himself—of all people—who had twisted the situation, she denied it firmly.

“No.”

“No?”

“Absolutely not.”

Then Isabelle fell into confusion.

‘Who could have put such a ridiculous idea into his head?’

It didn’t seem like something he would have come up with on his own. And she couldn’t even begin to guess who could possibly influence a man with such a strong will—especially with something that sounded like it belonged in some cheap, melodramatic novel…

Leaving Isabelle flustered, Tenetta turned his gaze toward the window. He stared at the gray winter sky, clouded over, before speaking abruptly.

“I’d like the wedding to take place before spring arrives. So we’ll head to the capital immediately. We’ll be quite busy, preparing things like formal attire.”

“You’re going to push this through so suddenly?”

“Then what would you prefer?”

Tenetta turned back to look at her.

Isabelle flinched slightly.

The irritation he had shown just moments ago had vanished without a trace, leaving his face completely expressionless. She couldn’t read what he was thinking.

Her voice, which had naturally grown more subdued, came out soft.

“Couldn’t we… take it a little slower…?”

“Slower?”

The sharpness in his tone cut through the air. At that short, aggressive question, Isabelle blinked.

It seemed Tenetta hadn’t even registered her reaction. A brief distortion crossed his otherwise smooth features, and a trace of hostility surfaced on his indifferent face.

“Do you want to spend one month—or three—wandering helplessly from one heresy tribunal to another, begging them to spare you from execution?”

Sensing the hostility in his gaze—and realizing it was less a calculated performance than something he had failed to conceal—Isabelle drew her brows together.

He was far too displeased.

It didn’t feel like a fleeting mood, but rather as if he were revisiting something deeply unpleasant from the past…

Then, in an instant, Tenetta withdrew his sharp demeanor.

Composing his expression as though nothing had happened, he spoke calmly.

“If that’s not the case, then accept it.”

***

In the end, Isabelle left with Tenetta.

Even knowing that this marriage was the only way to save his family, Hexter could not easily let go of his daughter’s hand.

“Write to us the moment you arrive. And if anything happens, tell us right away.”

“Yes… I will.”

As she answered, Isabelle felt a sudden urge to cling to him and confess everything.

‘Father, the truth is… I’ve gone back to the past several times…’

The words rose all the way to her throat.

But Isabelle said nothing.

It wasn’t because she feared her father might lock her away and call for a priest or a physician.

No matter what, the problem facing her family had no solution other than this marriage. Isabelle was no longer at an age where she could grasp her parents’ sleeves and cry over what could not be helped.

After Hexter stepped back, Viole leaned in and whispered,

“I’ll write to Raymond myself. You don’t need to worry.”

Isabelle had already been troubled over how to tell Raymond the news. She trusted that Viole—who had raised two children not her own without issue—would handle such matters far better than she could.

“Thank you.”

No sooner had Isabelle said her goodbyes to Viole than Tenetta came over to her. Without warning, he lifted her up and put her down inside the carriage. Then, with a single long stride, he jumped in after her.

As he took the seat across from her, the carriage door shut, and they began to move.

Startled, Isabelle quickly twisted around, searching for the family she had just parted from. But before she could properly meet the eyes of Viole, Hexter, or even the old servants of the household, Tenetta pulled down the dark window curtain.

The carriage was plunged into shadow.

In that dim, enclosed space, a subtle tension settled between them. Isabelle sat stiffly upright. Each time the carriage rocked, faint slivers of light slipped through the gaps in the curtain—appearing and disappearing like a worn-out candle flicker.

It was Tenetta who broke the silence first.

“I heard you have a younger brother. I don’t see him.”

“He’s studying abroad.”

“Where?”

“In Pessen.”

It was the sort of exchange one might have while gradually getting to know another person.

Even as Isabelle feared that Tenetta might reveal his true nature at any moment, part of her thought it might be easier if he simply admitted that he, too, remembered the past.

She had never been good at probing others or engaging in subtle power struggles. That was the kind of thing suited to people surrounded by enemies. Before meeting Tenetta, Isabelle had lived in a peaceful world filled with goodwill.

Sensing her quiet exhaustion with the situation, Tenetta asked,

“Does your brother want to become a magi-engineer?”

Isabelle froze.

The Kingdom of Pessen was well known for its study of magi-engineering—an academic field that utilized mana stones. But from the perspective of the Empire, it was not a profession one would easily consider. The Empire, where the Order held strong authority, did not look kindly upon the power contained within mana stones.

Raymond had only ever confided that dream to Isabelle. Even in her first life, it had been a secret shared between siblings alone.

“…I’m not sure.”

Isabelle answered a beat too late. By then, perhaps sensing that the flow of conversation had already broken, Tenetta let the matter drop.

How many times had that flickering sliver of light appeared and disappeared through the curtain’s gap?

Before long, the carriage came to a stop. From outside, a knight announced,

“We’ve arrived at the tower with the portal.”

A portal?

‘There’s a portal here?’

Isabelle’s eyes widened slightly.

A portal was a device that could hardly be described without saying it consumed vast amounts of mana stones—the very pinnacle of magi-engineering. Raymond had written about it in his letters more than once, calling it a miraculous device that could transport a person instantly to a distant destination.

And something like that existed within the Empire—so close to the Attley territory?

Only then did Isabelle understand why Tenetta had lowered the carriage curtains. He hadn’t wanted her to see the route leading to the portal.

While Isabelle was still trying to process it all, Tenetta opened the carriage door without the slightest hint of surprise. Sudden sunlight flooded in, making her instinctively frown.

Just as he had when she first boarded, his arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her down.

“We’ll need to walk a little from here.”

With only that, Tenetta strode ahead on his own.

The path was too narrow for someone of his build to walk side by side with another, so Isabelle followed behind without complaint.

On either side of the trail stretched a forest thick with evergreens. Now and then, she spotted trees she recognized—maples among them—but all of them stood bare, their branches stripped of leaves. The wind carried the forest’s sharp, almost mint-like scent.

After walking for some time, a low tower came into view, built of dark gray stone mottled with patches of moss. Tenetta and the knights entered it in a group. Isabelle stepped inside after them.

They all descended underground.

Beneath the tower lay a vast circular space—large enough to hold fifty people—etched with intricate geometric patterns that covered the floor.

Only then did Isabelle realize that, throughout her married life, she had never once heard mention of a portal.

As she studied the faint green glow emanating from the floor, someone, perhaps noticing her unease, spoke up in explanation.

“The Order may not view magi-engineering favorably, but it does not prohibit the use of portals.”

Isabelle lifted her head.

Aaron was looking down at her with a kind expression.

Just as she opened her mouth, about to exchange a few words with him, Tenetta abruptly cut in.

“What are you doing here?”