He had never once given her cause for worry in his entire life.

And yet lately he had been skipping meals every day, his expression growing darker, and on top of that his words had grown noticeably fewer.

After a moment of choosing her words, she opened her mouth carefully.

“Are you… could it be, is this because of Luna?”

“No, Mother.”

A maid of orphan origins, taken in by the Lutenberg household.

To Mrs. Elliott, that girl had always been a thorn in her side. The change in Demian had come after he heard news of her, and at first she had thought it a passing thing, but now it had gone too far.

Deciding she could no longer stand by and watch, Mrs. Elliott spoke with a firm expression.

“It’s because she grew up without parents and was never properly taught, that’s why she did what she did. Ungrateful, betraying the Lutenberg household that took her in… that’s what came back to her. So don’t go wasting your time over a girl like that.”

Before she could finish, Demian’s face visibly twisted. He spoke in a cold tone.

“Please watch what you say.”

His sharp response drew a deep sigh from Mrs. Elliott, and she softened her voice.

“Your father is worried too.”

“I’ll eat later. Please go ahead without me.”

Nothing she said would reach him right now. Knowing her son’s nature well, she hesitated for a moment, then sighed heavily and spoke with reluctant resignation.

“Then… I’ll have a maid leave it outside your door, so eat when you’re hungry.”

Click―

The door closed, and silence settled over the room again.

When the sound of his mother’s footsteps faded, Demian slowly rose from his seat. He crossed to the corner of the room and carefully retrieved a box he had kept hidden there.

Inside the box, Luna’s letters were neatly arranged.

The ones they had exchanged over the years. All of them were Demian’s most treasured possessions. He carefully unfolded one of them and reached into his pocket.

He took out the reply letter he had quietly taken from her room not long ago, then laid the two sheets of paper side by side and began to compare them closely.

His golden eyes, moving back and forth between the two pages, began to waver.

“…They’re identical.”

The letter he had seen at Marchioness Rosfeld’s manor had been only a passing glance, so he had thought he might have been mistaken…

But this was different. Comparing them openly like this, it was not merely similar. The handwriting was a perfect match.

Even seeing it plainly before his eyes, it was something he could not readily accept.

It was as though someone had taken his mind and thrown it into chaos.

The fingers gripping the letters began to tremble slowly.

Demian shot to his feet. The scrape of the chair against the floorboards rang out harshly.

There was no reason to hesitate. He walked straight out of the room at a rapid pace.

“I’ll just… be going to the Lutenberg manor for a bit, Mother.”

“At this hour?”

“There’s something I need to check urgently. I’ll be back soon.”

“Hey, wait―Demian!”

Her desperate call went unanswered. Only the urgent sound of footsteps crossing the hallway echoed away, growing fainter as it disappeared into the dark.

* * *

The dining table was already lined with neatly prepared dishes.

They had been arranged according to Demian’s instructions. Low in fat, minimal in stimulation, every item chosen with the focus of restoring the body.

That they still looked far from meager was entirely thanks to the skill of the resident head chef at the Grand Ducal residence. Even in their plain, muted colors, the dishes had a sheen and the natural fragrance of their ingredients, making them look all the more clean and appetizing.

Luna took her seat carefully. Caesar was seated across from her.

Before long, Demian, newly appointed as the Grand Ducal residence’s personal physician, made his appearance. He approached the table but stopped at a measured distance.

Standing one step back, he slowly scanned the table, surveying it as though running through a checklist.

“This one, and this one, you may eat.”

He pointed to an arugula salad with a perilla seed dressing and a cream soup with finely ground hazelnuts blended in.

Luna gave a small nod and picked up her fork.

Then, without thinking, she reached toward the gleaming meat dish.

“Not that one.”

Demian stopped her with a short, firm word.

“I specifically requested lean cuts, but this venison appears to have too much fat. Please remove it.”

The moment his words fell, the attendants nearby swiftly took the plate away.

Luna looked at her fork, suspended in midair, for a moment, then quietly redirected it to the arugula salad beside her.

But Demian’s voice continued without pause.

“And this fish dish as well, please remove it. The spicy seasoning may irritate the stomach. And this one too.”

Where Demian’s gaze had landed was a tempting sea bream dish. A faint aroma rose from the sauce, which carried a subtle reddish hue.

The moment he gave the order, the attendants moved without hesitation. One by one, the plates quietly vanished from the table.

Luna watched the scene and could not help but swallow her longing.

Caesar observed it all with a meaningful look before adding a word.

“I’ve heard stress is worse for one’s health than anything. If you restrict her that much, won’t it only make things harder for my wife?”

Luna felt the attention shift to her and gave a small shake of her head.

“I, I’m fine.”

Not wanting to create unnecessary friction between the two of them, she responded at once.

Luna forced a smile toward Caesar and took a spoonful of the soup Demian had recommended. It was smooth, but so bland she could barely taste any seasoning.

Aware of Caesar’s displeasure, Demian bowed his head with great courtesy and said,

“I apologize for the interruption during your meal. I judged this level of management to be the best course for restoring Her Highness’s health.”

Demian’s manner was simply that of someone quietly carrying out his duties. And with the justification that it was all for her sake, there was little more to be said.

Caesar looked at him in silence for a moment, then picked up his fork without bothering to hide his dissatisfaction.

And then it happened.

As Luna carefully brought a spoonful of soup to her lips, her hand trembled almost imperceptibly, and soup trickled down the corner of her mouth.

At the same moment, Demian moved quickly and stepped toward her. The clean napkin in his hand moved naturally toward the corner of her mouth.

She drew her head back slightly in surprise, but Demian’s hand had already come to rest gently beneath her chin.

It was far too practiced a movement for someone who was not close to her.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I did it without thinking……”

Caesar’s gaze settled slowly over the two of them. His face held no expression, but that very blankness felt all the colder for it.

Belatedly realizing the shift in atmosphere, Luna pulled the corners of her mouth up with effort and spoke.

“Ha ha… i, it’s fine. I’ll do it.”

The fingers hurrying to wipe the corner of her mouth felt somehow stiff and awkward.

The meal that followed passed in a silence so tense that even breathing felt cautious. The occasional clink of cutlery rang out at intervals, and no one was the first to speak.

When the meal finally ended, Demian approached again.

He gathered every last item of the prepared decoction and pills and handed them to her.

“It would be best to take them now.”

Luna accepted the cup from him and downed the decoction in one go, then swallowed the pills after.

Only after watching her to the very end did Demian step back.

And throughout all of it, Caesar’s gaze had not shifted once. A moment later, Caesar set down his fork and spoke quietly.

“Quite thorough in your management.”

Demian bowed his head and answered.

“I am only fulfilling my duties.”

Even to Luna’s eyes, Demian’s manner had been unusually attentive today. He had always been strict, but this seemed to go beyond that.

Feeling stifled for no particular reason, Luna emptied her water glass several times over. The heaviness in her chest would not lift.

His work done, Demian withdrew with a composed expression, as though nothing had happened at all.

The uncomfortable dinner came to an end, and deep into the night, quiet settled over the residence.

* * *

The Lutenberg manor―

Demian had been visiting the manor’s library every day for some time now.

It had started after his encounter with Adelia. That was when the vague instinct had taken hold, the feeling that he might find something connected to Luna there.

But as time passed, that instinct had begun to take shape.

The notion that Adelia might be Luna, an idea absurd even to himself. That was what had brought him here.

And yet the thought refused to leave him.