At that moment, Elicity thought that she looked much older.

Though she was adorned in an expensive dress, gloves, and accessories, she appeared shabby. Her radiant makeup, strangely enough, only made her look more pitiful.

Elicity found herself overlapping her own image with that of the woman before her.

Just as she had severed ties after exhausting herself with resentment toward her mother, Bella before the regression must have done the same—resenting her.

Though the reasons for their resentment were different, the situation of a daughter hating her mother remained the same.

For that reason, Elicity could no longer be cold toward her mother.

She felt that being heartless to her mother was no different from Bella being heartless to her.

Her mother might not care whether Elicity was distant or not, but Elicity did not want to be hated by Bella.

Suppressing the expression that threatened to twist her face, Elicity spoke one last time.

“Go back, Mother. Olivia will see you off.”

“My child—”

“Just go.”

Turning her back on her mother, Elicity began to walk slowly.

As she left the reception room, still hot with lingering warmth, and walked down the hallway leading to the study, her mind suddenly went blank.

Her body swayed, tilting precariously.

“M-Madam!?”

“Madam, are you all right?”

The attendants who had been following her turned pale and quickly supported her.

With their help, Elicity struggled to part her lips.

“I… I am fine. But I wish to rest. Not in the study—take me to my bedroom instead.”

“Then allow me to assist you—”

“I will do it.”

Just as she pressed her throbbing head and barely managed to steady herself, a familiar voice rang out.

“I will take my wife. The rest of you may leave.”

And then, her body was suddenly lifted into the air.

It had been a long time since her husband had carried her, and it should have felt unfamiliar. Yet, for some reason, it did not. No, more than that—it felt comfortable.

Elicity instinctively wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck and nestled into his embrace.

As she felt the warmth of his body, something swelled in her chest—a lump of unshed tears.

But they were in front of the attendants.

And there was a chance that her daughter might see. She could not afford to cry, so Elicity pressed a hand over her heart, holding it in.

Yet, there was a limit to how much she could endure.

It was exhausting. Drained by fatigue, Elicity unconsciously reverted to the speech of a middle-aged duchess.

“…Perhaps it is because of my age, but my body does not seem to obey me, Your Grace. Please take me to my bedroom.”

“That is why I am here, my lady. Let us go together.”

Something felt strange.

This was not Alex’s voice—it was that of Duke Zeroden.

Elicity lifted her head from his chest.

Perhaps it was her imagination, but instead of a young man, she saw her middle-aged husband from her past life.

In that instant, Elicity burrowed deeper into his embrace and impulsively spoke.

“Your Grace, I am sorry.”

“For what?”

“I have caused our daughter pain. I have made her resent me. I drove her to her death. It was I who killed your beloved daughter.”

“……”

“I feel sorry for the Duke I left behind… I am sure you must have hated me for killing our daughter, yet you couldn’t even resent me properly because I was gone.”

Elicity believed that this must be a dream.

She never imagined her husband would hold her and take her to her bedroom. That was why she could speak her true feelings.

“Your Grace, I am, in truth, a wretched mother unworthy of blaming my own mother.”

“Stop, my lady.”

At that moment, the hands holding her tightened.

“If that is the case, then I am also an unworthy father. A ruthless father who did not even know his daughter was suffering.”

“……”

Suddenly, Elicity wanted to see Alex. She lifted her gaze.

Alex was within her sight, but his face was expressionless.

Yet, Elicity had been his other half for so long.

His eyes were different.

Those once blazing eyes now carried the hues of a setting sun sinking beneath a distant horizon.

Why?

Her husband had been a man who had shown no emotion even when their daughter stood at death’s door before the regression.

But now, he was apologizing as an unworthy father, wearing a face she had never seen before.

Then, it happened.

Alex’s face drew closer, and soon, she felt a soft sensation on her forehead.

He had pressed his lips to it.

It was a kiss that seemed to soothe her torn-apart heart. Elicity’s eyes welled up with red.

‘Yes, this must be a dream.’

Elicity reassured herself again and again.

If this were a dream, then her husband would not reject her touch.

She was still afraid that Alex might push her away.

The last time, when he had attempted to kiss her, it could have been a mere whim.

But if this was an illusion she had created, then he would smile warmly and accept her hand without hesitation.

“Your Grace, this is a dream, isn’t it?”

“……”

“Otherwise, there is no way you would hold me and take me to my bedroom.”

Yes, it was a dream.

Like a well-trained pet, Alex remained still.

Thanks to that, Elicity was able to freely caress the sculpture-like firmness of her husband’s cheek.

The dream was so vivid—soft and warm.

As the tip of a finger gently traced Alex’s lips, the corners of his mouth curled up softly.

Elicity, swept up in this sweet moment, also curled the corners of her lips.

“Elicity, this is not a dream.”

Lies.

With a faint smile, Elicity soon closed her eyes.

“This is reality.”

***

—Daddy, um… can I sleep with Mommy? I didn’t get a goodnight kiss from her today.

No father could refuse his daughter’s shy request, especially when she stood there holding her cherished pillow.

Alex, who had been keeping watch by Elicity’s bedside, willingly ignored the aristocratic etiquette that stated, ‘A noble daughter over ten years old should sleep separately.’

Before long, a deep darkness settled over the bed.

The sound of two soft, rhythmic breaths filled the space, and a faint smile curved Alex’s lips.

A large, veined hand reached toward the bedside. The hand, rough and calloused, began gently stroking his sleeping daughter’s cheek.

Bella’s cheeks were soft and plump, like freshly baked bread.

He thought she even smelled like a newborn chick.

He wasn’t sure what she was dreaming about, but her tiny, round lips moved as if she were murmuring something, making her look all the more endearing.

He watched his precious daughter for a long time before extending his hand toward his wife’s forehead.

His lips, hesitating for a moment, finally parted slightly.

“You should have just cried.”

Alex swept a large finger across his wife’s cheek.

There were no traces of tears on her pale skin. That only made it more heartbreaking.

His small, delicate wife never cried, no matter how much sadness she endured.

Having lived as a knight for decades, Alex also believed that shedding tears was a sign of weakness.

Yet, he also thought that crying when one was sorrowful was never a sin.

Suppressing emotions for too long inevitably leads to illness.

Even if she had cried in secret, her maids—who were always her eyes and ears—claimed they had never once seen the Duchess shed a tear.

She endured everything, standing firm as if she had never known what tears were, securing her place as the Duchess with unwavering strength.

Perhaps, as the wife of a high-ranking noble, that was expected of her.

But as a woman? It was not.

Alex wondered if, from the moment she married him until now, Elicity had ever lived as her own person.

“…Have you ever been happy?”

The other day, at the dining table, he had asked her whether she was happy now or if she had been happier in the countryside of Reten.

Elicity had been unable to answer.

Alex was certain it was because she had never been happy in either moment—so much so that she couldn’t even distinguish between them.

That realization was painful.

Because he felt like he was the reason why.

Alex gazed at Elicity in silence.

Her tightly closed eyelids, her quiet breathing, her skin so pale it seemed lifeless.

He quickly pressed his fingers behind her ear.

Thankfully, her heart was still beating.

“Hah…”

A dry chuckle escaped his lips.

As a renowned swordsman, he had always prided himself on his rationality.

Yet, here he was, constantly questioning the reality of his wife’s presence by his side, lost in his own uncertainty.

There was work to do, and his aide was waiting for him in the study. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

Just as he reached out to stroke his beloved wife’s cheek once more—

A young boy’s voice broke through the darkness.

“Duke, are you happy?”

In that instant, Alex’s youthful face changed in the blink of an eye.

His jet-black hair was now streaked with silver, fine wrinkles had appeared around his eyes, and a neatly trimmed mustache shadowed his upper lip.

He had transformed into a refined man in his prime.

“How did you get in here…?”

His voice had changed as well. It was lower, rougher. The air around them turned dangerously tense in an instant.

Alex was indisputably the strongest swordsman on the continent, a man even the King of Salita feared.

Yet, his opponent remained utterly composed. Was he fearless, or did he truly believe he possessed the power to stand against the Duke?

“Relax. You’ll wake your wife at this rate. Even if she’s just an ordinary person, your killing intent is strong enough to rouse them both. Especially Bella—she might burst into tears.”

“…….”

Alex did not like his nonchalance.

He liked it even less that the boy spoke his daughter’s name so familiarly.

In the darkness, crimson eyes slowly burned with intensity.

“Do not address my daughter so informally.”

“Why? Afraid it’ll wear out?”

“It will.”

A chuckle of disbelief echoed through the air.

“That’s the most doting father thing I’ve ever heard. But, Duke, no matter how much you deny it, Isabella is my bride. It is a fate bound by contract.”

“Shut up.”

A deadly aura, sharp enough to kill, thickened the air.

Alex stood protectively in front of the bed where his wife and daughter lay, his gaze locked onto the source of the voice.

His eyes, already sharp, had turned into a blade honed to lethal perfection.