Tenetta found the Count and Countess that day, but he did not return Isabelle to them.

Instead, he asked if he could invite their daughter to dinner, and they agreed.

Given how excited Isabelle was, the Attleys had little reason to refuse.

After treating her to a lavish and deeply satisfying meal, Tenetta suggested they go for a walk and offered to teach her how to read the stars.

Eager to see the night sky from the Grand Duke’s estate, Isabelle readily accepted.

It took less than two months —

— before, one night, while standing on the soft grass in his garden, she realized that she was no longer looking at the stars.

But at him.

***

And yet… how had that same man become like this?

‘Snap out of it.’

Isabelle told herself, clutching her head as confusion overwhelmed her.

What had she done wrong?

To end up with a man like him as her husband?

That night, she lay awake for a long time, tossing and turning in an uncomfortably cold bed, until exhaustion finally pulled her into sleep.

Then she dreamed.

In her dream, a monster with a beautiful face chased her, holding a blood-stained axe aloft.

“Come here, Isabelle.”

She ran as fast as she could, but the towering, relentless creature closed the distance in an instant.

Just as its blade, slick with something dark and clotted, came crashing down towards her neck—

— Isabelle jerked awake.

She sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air and clinging to the cold sweat that covered her skin. Her trembling hands flew to her throat, as if to reassure herself that it was still there.

The nightmare lingered, its shadows still clouding her vision.

Her neck was unharmed.

But sleep no longer felt within reach.

—

When morning came, it was a different maid who brought water for her to wash with, not her usual one.

Judging by her pale, frightened appearance, she had clearly been taken by surprise and sent here without warning.

The maid offered to bring her breakfast afterwards, but Isabelle shook her head.

“Tell the inquisitor I’d like to see him.”

There was something she needed to ask.

Tenetta did not keep her waiting long.

The man who had appeared as a monster in her dreams was standing before her, opening the door with barely a moment’s hesitation.

“The night hasn’t been kind to you. Did you have a bad dream?”

It was the first thing he said when he saw her.

Isabelle was just about to ask the question she had been holding back—but she stopped.

‘What if I ask him… if he’s the one who killed me in my past lives—and he says yes?’

Then what?

If he was trapped in the same cycle, then Tenetta was deliberately hiding behind a mask and pretending they had only just met, for reasons she couldn’t yet understand.

What would happen if she were to tear that mask away by speaking of the past?

Isabelle couldn’t even begin to imagine what might happen next.

Once everything was out in the open, would he simply act as he pleased?

Her life and her family’s safety were already in his hands. If he chose to, he could make things far more suffocating and inescapable.

As this thought settled in, Isabelle realized just how naïve she had been to think that she could simply ask him whether he had killed her before and why he had tried to.

In the end, she said nothing.

Instead of answering, she stood there, lost in thought, unable to hide how far her mind had drifted from the man in front of her.

Watching her, Tenetta’s lips twisted.

It was a clear sign of irritation, but Isabelle, drained from a sleepless night and weighed down by her thoughts, failed to notice.

“I thought you were still naive… yet here you are, inviting a man into your bedroom.”

Caught off guard by the unmistakable mockery, Isabelle lifted her head.

Despite the faint curve of his lips, Teneta’s expression remained cold as he slowly swept his gaze over her.

“You said you wanted to clear yourself of heresy… or were you planning to take something else off first?”

The blatant provocation caused her eyes to widen.

Tenetta raised an eyebrow and met her gaze directly, as if daring her to respond.

Realizing that she couldn’t win against him like this, Isabelle clenched the fabric of her skirt and suppressed her frustration.

Then, as if she had heard nothing at all, she composed her expression.

“How are my parents?”

Tenetta didn’t press his taunt any further.

No—rather, he chose a different place to dig.

“Well… I imagine they’ve been isolated and are being interrogated, as procedure dictates.”

“Interrogated…?”

“Whatever you’re imagining—it’s probably a bit worse than that.”

The color drained from Isabelle’s face.

With just a few casual words spoken as though they were mere pleasantries, he had sent her imagination spiraling to its darkest depths.

Then, the corners of his lips lifted slightly.

“So—how is it? Are you finally considering marrying me?”

‘Ah… right.’

Tenetta had said that if she married him, he would remove the heresy charges against the Attley family.

It was something she had deliberately tried to ignore—because she didn’t want to accept it.

Her lips parted, though the words came slowly.

“Why do you want me? If you wish, Your Highness, you could marry anyone.”

“How strange. Why do you keep weighing your options? You won’t get an opportunity like this again.”

His beautiful face, which had once been curved with amusement, was now twisted slightly with irritation.

And yet, she couldn’t deny it.

If she considered only what had happened in this life, marrying Tenetta was the only solution.

But there was no such thing as a bargain where only one side benefited.

Her first husband had taught her that time and again.

“Listen carefully, Isabelle. If it ever seems like someone is giving you too much, there’s a good chance they’re taking something from you behind the scenes—something far greater in return.”

“Then what should I do?”

“Why worry? Your husband is right here.”

Before he became monstrous, Tenetta Achilleton was gentle.

He pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her as if she were small and precious, like a bird or a kitten.

Exhaling softly, he squeezed her lightly before loosening his hold and kissing her cheeks quickly.

“Whatever he takes from you—I’ll take it all back for you.”

In truth, this was always how Isabelle dealt with anything that troubled her during their marriage.

No matter how much something had weighed on her throughout the day, if she told him about it before going to sleep, it would be as if nothing had ever happened by the next morning.

All she had ever needed to give in return was a kiss.

But now, the man who was no longer her husband had become one of her biggest problems.

Isabelle trembled.

Though spring had yet to arrive, the castle felt colder than ever today.

Perhaps irritated by her repeated silences, Tenetta’s lips twitched.

Without warning, he crossed the room and sat by the fireplace.

With a steady, rough motion, he seized a matchbox and, in an instant, brought the cold hearth to life with warm flames.

He stirred the fire a few times with the poker before tossing it aside carelessly.

Then he turned to Isabelle and folded his arms.

She stared blankly at the deep furrow in his brow, the solid, striking strength of his arms that seemed out of place beneath a priest’s robes and the fire casting a soft, flickering glow across the room.

Unlike her, his gaze had never once left her.

When he noticed exactly where her eyes had lingered, Tenetta let out a sharp, mocking scoff.

“You asked why you, didn’t you? The answer’s simple.”

“……”

“You’re easy to handle.”

He raised an eyebrow, daring her to disagree.

But Isabelle had nothing to say.

She may have been naive about the world, but she was certainly not foolish enough to misunderstand her position.

To demonstrate just how firmly she was in his grasp, Tenetta beckoned her over with a small gesture.

“Come here, Isabelle.”

Heat rushed to her face.

His tone carried a quiet arrogance—like he was summoning a pet—making her want to slap him.
But she couldn’t.

If she provoked him, he might drag her back underground and imprison her again, only bringing her out on the day of her execution.

After hesitating for a moment, she stepped towards him.

The instant she came close enough, Tenetta moved without pause.

His large hand closed around her slender wrist and pulled her sharply towards him.

A small cry escaped her lips as she was pulled into his grasp.

Holding her gaze, he asked,

“You don’t look pleased. Did you not like my answer?”

‘Was that even something worth saying?’

Isabelle was forced to bend forward, trembling and unable to answer.

As she shook, Tenetta slowly raised his hand.

When his large, strong hand drew close to her face, she instinctively squeezed her eyes shut.

He had never hit her before, but the tension in the air made her fear that he might this time.

And yet, all she felt against her cheek was warmth.

She slowly and hesitantly opened her eyes.

His hand was gently cradling her face.

A faint softness flickered through his uneven smile.

“To be honest… there’s another reason.”

He paused briefly.

“…Just now, I was teasing you. You kept acting so cold toward me.”