The Duchess of Heidel gently released Daphne from her arms and tried to rise from the bed.

“My baby……!”

She looked utterly flustered and started to fumble around in her haste.

Was she going to claim that she had only said those things to comfort Daphne?

Already weary of her tearful excuses, Medeia lowered her gaze and turned away.

In front of Medeia, she claimed to love her more, yet behind her back, she reassured Daphne and told her not to feel hurt.

She said that although Daphne was not her biological daughter, she loved her just as much as Medeia.

Behind Medeia’s back, she showered Daphne with expensive gifts.

At the time, Medeia had assumed that she was simply trying to soothe Daphne’s hurt feelings. Now, however, she understood that the Duke and Duchess of Heidel had genuinely cherished her.

Even as their biological daughter, Medeia could never surpass Daphne, whom they had personally raised for so many years.

‘Of course. They never intended to trust me from the beginning.’

Although their birthdays were only a week apart, the duchess deemed Medeia to be overly sensitive simply because she refused to refer to Daphne as her older sister.

Having given birth to her and granted her the status of a daughter of the House of Heidel, they deserved basic courtesy from Medeia from the outset.

Just as they had treated her.

In truth, she already knew.

She knew why the Duke of Heidel had not reacted like the Duchess, who had embraced Medeia while weeping.

She knew why a single cough from his wife had concerned him more than seeing his daughter for the first time in thirteen years.

He doubted that Medeia was truly his daughter.

With all her childhood memories gone, Medeia realized that he could not trust her identity based on their resemblance alone.

“Vincent, what are you saying? How could you tell me not to grow too attached to Medeia?”

“How could a five-year-old child possibly have survived alone? We must consider the possibility that she may not truly be Medeia.”

When she had accidentally overheard the Duke and Duchess of Heidel’s conversation all those years ago, their words had hurt her deeply.

Nothing could fill the void of the thirteen years she had lost, nor could it return them to her.

If only they had continued searching for her.

If only she had returned to their arms sooner.

No, if only they had never adopted Daphne.

Then she might not have died such a futile death at Daphne’s hands. But there was no point dwelling on what might have been.

She had already died and come back to life once.

Clinging to time that had already passed was foolish.

Medeia steadied her wavering heart.

The more she allowed herself to hope, the greater the inevitable disappointment would be.

This disappointment was like the depths of the sea: no matter how hard she tried to escape it, she could never succeed.

The moment she felt compassion for them, she would start hoping again.

She would once more strive to earn their love. Medeia clenched her trembling hands and continued walking.

“You seem remarkably composed, my lady.”

Walking slightly behind her, Sisana murmured as though she approved of Medeia’s demeanor.

“Allowing one’s emotions to dictate one’s behavior puts one at a disadvantage. I merely make an effort to appear composed.”

Sisana seemed even more pleased when Medeia did not appear conceited in response to her praise.

After they stepped outside together, Sisana led her over to the carriage.

She opened the door, stepped aside, and held out her hand.

Medeia took her hand and climbed into the carriage. The door closed behind her immediately.

A faint fragrance drifted past her nose from across the carriage.

It was a clean, cool scent, reminiscent of cold seawater.

When she turned her head, she found a pair of tranquil eyes gazing down at her.

They slowly swept over her, as though he were a predator studying its prey.

Looking directly at him was even more intimidating than merely catching a glimpse of him from the balcony, and she could feel the weight of his presence descend upon her.

He wore a coat trimmed with silver fox fur and carried a rose-patterned cane.

From his broad shoulders and sharply defined nose to the long lashes framing his eyes, he was strikingly handsome. In fact, he was so handsome that she could hardly look away.

He also exuded the unmistakable dignity and elegance of royalty.

Although he seemed gentle, Medeia could not afford to lower her guard.

“……I, Medeia Heidel of the House of Heidel, pay my respects to the noble blood of Serenier. May the glory of Serenier accompany His Highness the Second Prince.”

Since she could not perform a proper curtsy inside the carriage, she bowed as deeply as possible, and his low voice quietly reached her ears.

“We made eye contact earlier, so I can understand why you weren’t surprised to find me here.”

“…….”

“But how did a lady who has spent her entire life in Aragon recognize me?”

When Medeia instinctively raised her head, she found that although the corners of his lips were lifted, his eyes held no trace of a smile.

“……I saw Your Highness from the balcony earlier. I already knew you were here, which is why I wasn’t surprised.”

Medeia concealed her bewilderment as best she could and answered calmly.

Tap, tap.

Pierre began tapping the velvet cushion in a steady rhythm.

Each time the tips of his long fingers pressed into the cushion and lifted again, the veins on the back of his hand became more prominent.

“My lady, what I’m curious about isn’t why you weren’t surprised to see me.”

“…….”

“I asked how you recognized me. You’ve only just arrived from Aragon.”         

He tilted his head slightly and looked down at her, his gaze assessing.

His blue eyes remained fixed on her beneath his lashes, without the slightest flicker.

The fact that he did not press her for an answer made it even more difficult to breathe.

The moment their eyes met, Medeia felt as though he could see straight through her.

‘……I made a mistake.’

He was ruthless enough to pretend to be lame for years, so she should have been more cautious.

She remembered Princess Charlotte’s warning, given when Medeia insisted on returning to Serenier.

‘She warned me to avoid being bitten by a mad viper with deadly venom. She was referring to the prince.’

The person Princess Charlotte had been warning her about was Pierre.

“……Her Highness Princess Charlotte told me a great deal about you. Besides, the two of you resemble each other.”

“My aunt and I?”

The only thing that Princess Charlotte and Pierre had in common was their platinum-blonde hair.

Was that the reason?

A faint, incredulous laugh colored his voice as he asked the question.

It was a flimsy excuse. However, the pressure he exerted made it difficult for Medeia to breathe comfortably, let alone come up with a more convincing explanation.

“I’m hardly a nephew she cherishes. What could she possibly have told you so much about?”

“……She called you a viper.”

“A viper?”

His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. Perhaps intrigued, he briefly stopped tapping the cushion.

“I have no memories from before the age of five, and I’m worried that my knowledge of Serenian, which I had to learn in such a hurry, may still be inadequate. I hope Your Highness won’t misunderstand me.”

If she claimed that Princess Charlotte had praised him, he clearly wouldn’t believe her.

When dealing with someone who already suspected her, a certain degree of honesty was more effective than a clumsy lie.

Medeia carefully chose her words, hoping to lower his guard, if only slightly.

“Well.”

He let out a low exclamation, his eyes curving into a cold smile.

“Even if we are inside a carriage, surely you don’t believe I would do anything to you while we’re still at the Heidel estate.”

A soft laugh escaped him, accompanied by a quiet breath.

“There’s no need for you to be quite so nervous.”

Only then did Medeia realize that she had been trembling, and she forced her body to relax.

“Ah. Didn’t she also tell you to avoid me whenever possible and flee if you ever encountered me, lest you be bitten?”

“…….”

“To be precise, she must have called me a mad viper. Did you leave that part out because you thought it might hurt my feelings?”

Medeia flinched at his intrigued whisper.

His gentle voice had a completely different cadence.

It was Aragonian.

That was the pronunciation that had just left his lips.