Two shadows stretched across the grass, rustling in the wind. Long, flowing light brown hair. The billowing hem of a dress. Two figures entwined as if they were one.

Yet, what captured Aveline’s gaze was none other than Kazerre’s eyes.

Even from this distance, his eyes pierced her heart with painful intensity. Beyond the deep violet haze, a faint ripple stirred.

“Kazerre!”

Before she could even grasp what it meant, Aveline urgently cried out his name.

At her sudden outburst, the still summer night air trembled. The force of her own voice left her body trembling as well.

“…Aveline?”

Kazerre turned to her immediately. The woman who had just stepped away from his embrace but still clung to his arm also turned her head.

As their gazes met, Aveline’s heartbeat pounded violently against her eardrums.

It felt as if all the blood in her body had drained away, leaving her cold. A chilling sensation, like someone who had just escaped from drowning.

“Let’s go back, Kazerre.”

“What…?”

Caught off guard by her abrupt request, Kazerre started to question her but stopped.

Aveline, nervously rubbing at her arm, didn’t seem well.

A furrow formed between his brows as he scrutinized her intently, his violet eyes darkening with concern.

“I think… I’m not feeling well. Let’s go back.”

Aveline swallowed an inexplicable anxiety and spoke in a feeble voice.

Unlike usual, she didn’t question Kazerre about the woman by his side or press him for an explanation. Right now, she didn’t care who the woman was—she only knew one thing. She had to get her away from him.

Hearing Aveline’s claim to be unwell, Kazerre didn’t probe further. Instead, he turned to Clonay and gave a brief farewell.

“I must take my leave, Lady Huster. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“Ah… Yes, Your Grace…”

The woman left behind could do nothing but stand there as Kazerre strode toward Aveline.

To Aveline, his steps felt excruciatingly slow.

She wanted to run to him, to grab his hand first. But for some reason, her legs wouldn’t move. So she could only stand still and watch him approach. 

‘Please, just come to me. Don’t look anywhere else.’

Fortunately, Kazerre reached her before long. Yet to Aveline, those few moments had felt longer than the past eight years without him.

“You never ask to leave early. Are you feeling that unwell? Where does it hurt?”

His concerned gaze meticulously swept over her.

Only when she saw herself reflected entirely in his violet eyes did Aveline finally feel like she could breathe again. Those dark, intense eyes were the only thing that ever breathed life into her.

He was the only one who ever mattered to her.

“My stomach just feels… a little off.”

Aveline murmured weakly.

Her pale complexion and uneven breathing set Kazerre on edge.

Her lips, usually tinted red, had turned an unsettling shade of blue. To his eyes, she looked as if she might collapse at any moment.

“Do you have a fever?”

Without hesitation, Kazerre placed his hand on her forehead.

His cool touch seemed to ease the heat surging through her body. Aveline pressed her forehead into his large palm and mumbled,

“It feels nice… So cool.”

At that, Kazerre lifted both hands to cradle her face, his fingers brushing against her skin before he suddenly scooped her into his arms.

Her small, delicate frame fit perfectly against him as if she had always belonged there. Aveline wrapped her arms around his neck as if she had been waiting for this moment.

The familiar yet unfamiliar scent of him tickled her nose, but she had no room to dwell on it.

“We’ll head back right away. Just hold on a little longer.”

Feeling her nod faintly against his chest, Kazerre didn’t hesitate any longer and began walking.

Before she fully nestled into his embrace, Aveline cast one last glance over his shoulder.

The woman who had been with him just moments ago stood frozen, watching them leave.

Seeing her left behind, an inexplicable sense of relief spread through Aveline’s chest like a cool breeze.

As the woman grew smaller in the distance and finally disappeared from sight, Aveline averted her gaze. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against Kazerre’s chest.

His scent—cool, crisp, and intoxicating—washed over her like the first snowfall of winter.

The scent she adored. The scent of Kazerre.

‘He’s mine.’

This firm, warm embrace was her only safe haven.

Until the day her breath ran out, he would belong to her alone, just as she belonged to him. Because that was the destiny the heavens had written for them.

But then… why had she felt like an intruder just moments ago?

This was supposed to be her place.

‘No. He’s mine. My man.’

As if trying to shake off the unease creeping into her heart, Aveline trembled and burrowed deeper into his chest.

If only they could become one—so they would never be apart again.

“When did this start?”

A sudden, low voice pulled her from her spiraling thoughts.

Like a newborn chick, Aveline slowly opened her eyes.

She lifted her head and glanced around.

Above her, a high, arched ceiling stretched across the hallway, with glass lanterns hanging at regular intervals. Along the corridor, statues of legendary heroes stood tall and unwavering.

Hadn’t she just been in his arms for a brief moment? Yet they had already reached the entrance of the ballroom.

The party was still in full swing, leaving the hallway eerily empty.

Even though the distance from the garden had been quite far, Kazerre showed no signs of strain. He hadn’t even taken a single heavy breath.

“I don’t know,” Aveline murmured softly, resting her head once again against his chest as he walked on.

Kazerre glanced down, about to say something in response to her halfhearted reply—only for his steps to slow dramatically before coming to a full stop.

His brows furrowed as if he had just realized a terrible truth.

“You…”

Kazerre, who had been glaring at her with a dark expression, let out a breath and loosened his grip, setting her down.

Aveline nimbly hopped out of his arms and landed gracefully on both feet.

The pallor that had drained her face earlier had completely vanished, replaced by a lovely flush of pink. Her golden eyes were clearer and brighter than ever.

“I feel fine now.”

“…”

“My stomach was feeling strange before, but now it’s settled.”

Aveline shrugged slightly and pulled one corner of her lips into an easy, mischievous smirk. Her amused gaze sparkled with the cunning of a playful trickster.

Kazerre was speechless as he stared at her, perfectly healthy and unbothered.

Getting struck on the back of the head would have been less humiliating than this. He had rushed her all the way here, thinking something was seriously wrong, only to realize he had been played for a fool.

“…Ha.”

A hollow chuckle escaped his lips.

Of course. This was just the kind of woman she was.

She whispered lies and schemes as sweetly as words of love, and even when caught, she could still smile so shamelessly.

So in the end, the only fool here was him—for believing her, even when he should have known better.

Kazerre’s face, which had briefly flickered with anger, quickly went blank.

“Forget it. Let’s go back.”

Rather than unleashing his growing frustration, Kazerre chose to walk away.

It was better to return home as soon as possible—to put some distance between them.

There was no reason to be angry. No need. No matter how much he yelled or pleaded, Aveline Croeta would never change.

And if that was the case, then what was the point in wasting any emotions on her at all?

Yet, no matter how much he tried to reason with himself, the suffocating tightness in his chest refused to ease.

Irritated, he raked a hand through his hair and turned his gaze away from her. Shutting down his emotions only made the exhaustion settle in deeper.

“Yes, let’s return to our home, then.”

While he was struggling to rein in his emotions, Aveline smoothly slid her hand through the crook of his arm, as if fastening a leash onto a pet that had wandered home.

She met his glance with a serene, knowing smile.

“You know how much I love you, don’t you?”

“…”

“I love you. My Kazerre, my Hyperion.”

Her voice was as rich and seductive as a siren’s call, the kind that could make even the men who gossiped about her behind her back instinctively murmur in agreement.

But Kazerre felt nothing. His heart didn’t stir. He wasn’t surprised by her words, nor did he wonder if she meant them.

He was just tired. The kind of tired one felt when listening to an irrelevant story about a stranger’s life.

Her endless declarations of love, her attempts to bind him with them—he was growing weary of it all.

Without answering her, Kazerre continued forward, his steps cold and unyielding.

The night was too long. Exhaustingly, suffocatingly long.