Tenetta suddenly grabbed her hand.

Startled by the warmth of his touch, Isabelle flinched.

Without a word, he led her onto the engraved patterns carved into the floor. The other knights, who had been checking various things around the chamber, gathered in an orderly manner.

Standing beside him, Isabelle tried to subtly pull her hand free. But before she could, Tenetta tightened his grip.

“When using a portal, you have to hold on to each other. Otherwise… your limbs might end up scattered.”

His voice dropped into a soft whisper.

“I’d rather not have to go around picking up your pretty arms and legs.”

If not for the words themselves, his tone was gentle enough to be mistaken for a lover’s murmur.

Swallowing her discomfort, Isabelle looked up at the man who was clearly trying to unsettle her—and spoke.

“…Why are you doing this?”

What she meant was, what kind of grudge do you have to keep provoking me like this? But Tenetta seemed to take it in a completely different way.

“I told you—it was love at first sight.”

At that moment, light burst from the portal, and a tremendous vibration roared through the chamber, loud enough to drown out every other sound. It was the kind of deafening noise that made it clear why such a thing had been buried deep underground.

As Isabelle glanced around, she realized something—

She and Tenetta were the only ones standing on the portal, holding hands.

Seeing her brows knit together, Tenetta let out a quiet laugh. Even as that mocking smile marred his almost painterly face, he showed not a hint of shame.

Just as Isabelle tried to wrench her hand free, her vision went black.

When light returned, everything around her had changed completely.

“This is…?”

“A second portal installed within the capital.”

Tenetta answered as he steadied the unbalanced Isabelle, helping her stand upright. As if to conclude his little game, he cupped her face in his hands and turned it from side to side, inspecting her.

“Your limbs are intact… your face is the same.”

“….”

“Good. It would’ve been a shame if anything had happened to such a pretty body.”

Isabelle frowned deeply and slapped his hand away from her cheek. But having already tricked her, Tenetta showed no sign of displeasure. He simply kept hold of her hand and started toward the stairs.

Before long, the door leading to the surface opened, and brilliant white sunlight poured in.

Standing against the blinding light, Tenetta turned back to look at her. Framed by the brightness, he appeared almost like a silhouette as he spoke.

“Welcome to the capital, Isabelle.”

***

Once again, the carriage windows were covered with black curtains.

By the time the carriage came to a stop, they were already inside the gates of the Achilleton estate.

The butler, Varen—who looked a few years younger than Isabelle remembered—came out to greet them. Without the slightest hesitation, Tenetta introduced her.

“This is my fiancée, Miss Isabelle Attley.”

One might have expected surprise from a servant whose master returned from a trip with a woman and suddenly announced an engagement—but Varen showed no such reaction.

“Welcome to the House of Azure Radiance.”

Azure Radiance was the traditional name used to refer to the Achilleton family. It was said to date back to when they had once been royalty of a now-vanished kingdom.

Varen led Isabelle to a guest chamber and assigned her a skilled maid. Like Varen, she was also a familiar face to Isabelle.

“If you would like to bring your own attendants, please let us know.”

Isabelle shook her head. In the past, she had brought several maids from her family home, including Dina, and lived with them here.

But this time, she couldn’t.

‘Who knows what Tenetta might do.’

That night, Isabelle dreamed of the husband from her first life.

In the dream, Tenetta explored her as though her body were land newly discovered for the first time. As his calloused palm traced down her back and pressed gently against the curve of her lower spine, her breathing grew uneven.

He did not miss her reaction.

“Do you like it here?”

“N-no…”

“Be honest.”

The man gripped her tightly by the hips. His touch was rough, almost like a light punishment. After kneading the soft flesh for a moment, his hand slid down along the inside of her thigh.

Pinned beneath the weight of his body, Isabelle felt a chilling fear—as though she might be devoured whole. Overwhelmed by something she couldn’t quite name—whether pleasure or fear—she let out a trembling sound. Pressing his lips against her neck, the man whispered,

“We made a promise when we got married.”

‘A promise like that…? When did we ever—’

In that instant, her eyes flew open.

Isabelle jerked upright, hurriedly running her hands over herself. Her body was damp with cold sweat, but her nightclothes were still properly wrapped around her.

Brushing back her disheveled hair, she let out an irritated sigh.

Whenever Tenetta Achilleton appeared in her dreams, it always left behind a lingering, unpleasant feeling.

***

The next morning, as soon as Isabelle entered after finishing breakfast, Tenetta asked,

“Did you sleep uncomfortably?”

“No.”

The bed itself had been perfectly comfortable—there was nothing to fault. The problem was the owner of the house, and that was not something she could change just because she found it unpleasant.

Isabelle idly prodded the neatly arranged dishes before her with a silver utensil. The delicate imported plates she had once liked didn’t seem to have arrived yet, but everything else was exactly as she remembered.

As she quietly checked whether the tableware would tarnish, Tenetta, who had been watching her intently, spoke.

“The tailor will be coming today to fit your wedding attire.”

“…”

“He’ll be bringing jewelry as well, so order whatever you like—whether it’s for everyday wear or the ceremony. You’re at an age to enjoy clothes and ornaments, aren’t you?”

Just as before, he spoke as though he were some distant, worldly adult looking down on her—unchanged from her previous life.

Isabelle gave a small nod.

It seemed Tenetta had been waiting for her to complain, but when no response came, he simply began his meal.

What might have passed as an uneventful day, however, quickly unraveled—because of him.

Throughout the entire process of fitting her wedding dress, he began voicing his dissatisfaction.

“Is it fashionable these days to show exactly where your heart is beating?”

“If you wear something like that in this weather, you’ll come down with pneumonia before the ceremony even ends.”

“If you’re aiming for drama, I’ll humor you if you pretend to faint—but don’t induce actual breathing trouble.”

Anything with a plunging neckline, thin fabric that revealed her figure, or a tightly cinched waist that emphasized her curves—he rejected them all without exception.

Isabelle felt her patience wearing thin.

Whether Tenetta remembered their previous life or not, she had to see this marriage through somehow. Only then could she clear herself of the heresy accusations. After the wedding… she could think about how to separate from him then.

She wasn’t someone who could juggle multiple concerns at once.

Tenetta, too, should have been in a hurry to marry due to matters of inheritance—yet he showed no intention of cooperating.

Isabelle turned to look at him as he flipped through a new catalog, clearly searching for something else to criticize.

“If there’s something you want, just say it yourself.”

“It’s a wedding dress. You should choose.”

‘Everything I chose so far is exactly what you’ve been rejecting.’

The words rose to her throat, but there were too many people watching.

Suppressing her irritation, Isabelle searched for a way to handle the situation.

“Then I’ll choose on my own.”

“Are you embarrassed? Once we’re married, there won’t be any secrets between us, so don’t be like that.”

Isabelle wanted to hit him.

A man whose entire body seemed solid and unyielding probably wouldn’t even feel it—but even landing a single punch felt like it would be satisfying.

Sharply, she shot back—

“That’s not necessarily true. Even after marriage, people can still keep their secrets.”

She had said it because she remembered him—how he had played the part of a gentle husband for three years, only to change completely. But the man, utterly without shame, turned to look at her.

Setting the catalog aside, Tenetta gestured for the tailor, the apprentice, and the maid—who had all been holding their breath—to leave.

The young apprentice quickly snatched up the catalog as though escaping danger, and with that, only the two of them remained in the sitting room.

Tenetta spoke.

“So you’re the type to keep secrets from your husband?”

Swallowing back the sharper words that had risen to her throat, Isabelle lifted her gaze to meet his.

“…Everyone has their secrets.”

Of course, in Isabelle’s view, Tenetta’s other side was precisely the kind of thing a person should keep hidden.

Her former husband—now her current fiancé—who looked like an angel yet behaved worse than a beast, shifted his body. As his broad frame leaned toward her, Isabelle flinched slightly, but she did not look away.

After studying her at length, Tenetta remarked,

“You look like you wish I’d just stop talking.”

A languid smile curved his lips. Slowly, deliberately, he tapped his own left thigh with his thick hand.

“I could teach you how to silence a man. Come here.”