“Where is Aveline?”

As soon as Kazerre dismounted upon his return in the middle of the night, he asked Camilla, who had come out to greet him.

He had just returned from spending several days at the summit of Mount Norca, formerly known as the Beast Mountain. He had traveled there to inspect and find a way to distribute glacial ice for the Northerners suffering from the sweltering heat.

“You still say her name first, even now.”

Camilla clicked her tongue and shook her head.

It had already been a little over a year since the whole continent had buzzed with news of their marriage.

But it seemed that the nickname he’d been using since childhood was difficult to change.

She had reminded Kazerre several times to use her proper title in public settings where others could see, but the moment he let down his guard, Aveline’s name would pop out right away.

Well, then again, some said it only made them seem like a loving couple.

Camilla gave a shallow sigh, having given up on trying to correct her liege in a positive way, and answered his question.

“The Duchess is with guests at the moment.”

“Guests?”

“Anika has returned.”

Ah. Kazerre let out a low sigh.

He had heard word that Anika was visiting, leading merchants affiliated with the Crimson Merchant Guild to establish trade with the North. Apparently, that visit happened to be today.

“Should I tell the chef to prepare dinner?”

“What about Aveline?”

“She had an early dinner with the guests.”

As if she were too exhausted to even sigh, Camilla answered without comment on Kazerre repeating Aveline’s name like a parrot.

“Then have something light prepared and sent to my office. I have documents I need to review.”

“Yes, then shall I inform the Duchess…”

“There’s no need to interrupt a long-awaited reunion. I’ll go see her myself when I’m finished with work.”

“Understood.”

Kazerre headed straight for the bath and rinsed himself off with cold water.

Even though he had thrown off all the winter clothing he’d worn during the descent, sweat had poured off him like a waterfall during the ride back. He already missed the glacial ice he had left behind.

Still, he had pushed forward without rest because he wanted to see Aveline as soon as possible. He couldn’t help but feel deflated now.

But as always, he headed to the office with a face void of emotion, all his feelings carefully suppressed. Only his still-damp hair, not yet fully dried, gave a glimpse of what might lie beneath.

“You’re back, Your Grace.”

Xenon, who had arrived in the office ahead of time, greeted him.

While the other knights who had accompanied him to Mount Norca had returned to their quarters for rest, Xenon had been pulled back into duty because Kazerre had insisted on reviewing documents.

Still, even when he saw the dark circles under Xenon’s eyes, Kazerre indifferently tossed a document from the desk toward him.

“We’ll need to manufacture lighter armor suitable for the summer months. I’ve already got the cost estimate, so review it. Have you checked the list of requested supplies from the forge?”

“That’s already been sorted… but will you be requesting more artisans from the South?”

“If necessary, yes. Confirm it and compile a full report.”

Xenon silently swallowed his frustration as his meticulously compiled report was instantly rendered obsolete by a single command from Kazerre.

Kazerre, unconcerned, brushed back his damp hair as if it were a nuisance and sat down at his desk. Piles of reports that had been left untouched during his absence filled the surface.

He quickly reviewed one and picked up a pen to sign it—

But all that was left on the paper was a harsh scribble where ink should have been.

“There’s no ink.”

“There should be a spare bottle in the back of the drawer.”

At Xenon’s words, Kazerre casually opened the drawer—then paused.

What caught his eye wasn’t the inkwell, but a small box covered in soft, high-quality leather.

Kazerre pulled it out as if enchanted and opened the lid. Inside were bundles of old letters, a pressed flower bookmark, and a yellowed handkerchief. They were all gifts Aveline had given him long ago.

‘Please, just burn all of these.’

When Aveline had discovered the box’s existence, she had made a fuss about tossing it straight into the fireplace. Kazerre had barely stopped her.

It was obvious that she hadn’t forgotten the fact that those gifts had once been laced with poison. He had even brought in a physician to personally confirm they were now harmless.

Even so, every time she saw him treasuring those gifts, she had made a horrified face.

In the end, Kazerre had no choice but to keep her gifts in a place where her eyes would never reach.

He tried to listen to most of what Aveline said, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to burn the sincerity she had poured into those childhood presents.

“……”

He picked up one of the bundles of paper.

Written in slightly rounded letters, imitating an adult’s script, the pages were filled top to bottom. They were the letters Aveline had once sent him.

Unaware that Xenon was looking at him with a disapproving stare—as if to say “Here we go again”—Kazerre quickly sank into his own memories.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t brought out the box often, in order to avoid Aveline’s attention. But every time he got the chance to look through it again like this, it always brought him an unexpected sense of joy.

Before long, all thoughts of work vanished, and he was engrossed in reading through each letter one by one.

That’s when he noticed a letter written in handwriting different from Aveline’s, tucked between the pages he had been flipping through.

“I didn’t know this was here.”

Kazerre’s brow furrowed slightly, as if he’d come across an uninvited guest.

He had told Camilla to gather any of Aveline’s old gifts and keep them here, but this letter clearly wasn’t from Aveline.

However, upon checking the sender with a disapproving expression, Kazerre’s eyes widened.

It was a letter he had written.

To be more precise, it was a reply he had once tried to write to her.

The letter didn’t even fill the whole page and stopped abruptly in the middle of a sentence.

‘Well, no wonder I never sent it.’

There was nothing particularly special about it.

Even just the number of letters he had left unfinished and forgotten could probably fill an entire drawer.

How many times had he started writing only to be called away suddenly?

‘Well, I had no choice back then.’

It was a time when he had still been inexperienced both as Duke of Evuteren and as a knight of the Snowfield Order.

Every time he so much as tried to catch his breath, new problems arose one after another.

He had responsibilities he couldn’t avoid—and leisurely writing letters wasn’t one of them.

He had no idea where all those unfinished letters had ended up.

To be honest, he’d never tried to find them again either.

When you lived on the edge, where your life hung by a thread, those small memories had no place in your mind.

Eventually, you even forgot you had meant to write a letter in the first place.

Perhaps most of them had been forgotten, shoved between books or into the corners of shelves. Some might have even been burned.

But it seemed Camilla had somehow managed to find one of them and place it here.

Kazerre read through the letter—written by his own hand, yet entirely unfamiliar—while recalling insignificant memories. Unlike when he read Aveline’s letters, his expression was notably indifferent.

However, that didn’t last long. As his gaze moved down the page, a serious light gradually returned to his eyes.

“Your Grace?”

Sensing something different in his demeanor, Xenon called out to him cautiously.

Before he could even finish, Kazerre abruptly stood up. With a loud crash, the chair toppled backward from the force of his movement.

“Wh-what’s the matter?”

“I need to go see Aveline.”

“Pardon?”

“Just finish reviewing what you’re working on and head back.”

Leaving only those few words behind, Kazerre turned sharply on his heel and walked out.

Left suddenly alone in an office that wasn’t even his, Xenon stared blankly at the open door before looking down again at the document in his hand.

“Even if it’s just the one I’m reviewing right now…”

Regrettably, the document currently in his grasp was the next month’s training schedule for the Snowfield Knights and its proposed budget. Even staying up all night wouldn’t be enough to get through it.

“I must have committed some colossal sin in a past life. There’s no other explanation…”

Xenon muttered tearfully, bowing his head. His fingertips trembled as he clutched the report tightly, unable to bring himself to tear it apart.

***

“A huge, burly man, at least five times my size, was making a fuss because he got pricked by a thorn—can you imagine how ridiculous that was?”

Aveline smiled gently as she listened to Anika’s loud and animated story.

They had spent the entire day discussing trade with the merchant guild, and were only now enjoying some personal time together.

As soon as they found the chance to relax and chat, Anika began eagerly recounting her recent adventures, as if she had been waiting for this very moment.

“So, in the end, did you decide to import those desert plants? I thought they could only grow in actual deserts—how are you managing that?”

Edin, who was playing the role of fellow listener alongside Aveline, asked with a curious gleam in his eye.

Truthfully, ever since becoming a duchess, Aveline was used to everyone listening intently to her every word. So being treated as part of the audience for once felt unfamiliar.

But it wasn’t unpleasant.

Anika’s stories about her ventures across the continent, based in the South, were fascinating in themselves. And in between those tales, she was able to hear welcome news of familiar people as well.

“Of course. You know how the Guildmaster is—once he sets his mind on something, he sees it through to the end. You’ve seen it yourself, haven’t you? The moment something even slightly interests him, those dead-fish eyes of his start to sparkle like crazy.”

Though the blunt description made her pause for a moment, Aveline soon smiled softly, picturing Luen’s vivid blue eyes that could clear the mind just by looking at them.

Apparently, according to Anika, Luen was now fully immersed in the development of the desert. Thanks to that, Anika herself had been broadening her experience and maturing rapidly. Even today, she had personally led the merchant groups here, albeit on a small scale.

“Oh! That reminds me—there’s something the Guildmaster asked me to deliver to you.”

As if suddenly recalling it, Anika fussed and placed a long box on the table. The polished wooden case, wrapped in red velvet, gave off a faint scent of dry wood.

Aveline had already been curious about the item the moment she saw Anika carrying it in her arms, so she didn’t hesitate to open the box right away.

“…This is…”