When I opened my eyes again, an unexpected person was before me.

“Oh, you’re awake?”

It was Raphael.

“What are you doing here?” I blinked, dumbfounded. Raphael gave a bright smile and replied.

“Well, I was invited, so here I am.”

“What about Eloise?”

“No need to worry about her. She’s healthy. And it seems the Duchess is doing well too. Congratulations on your awakening.”

I got up, following Raphael’s lead as he rose. He then turned to Ian, who was standing nearby.

“This is a first for me, so I’m not certain, but the awakening fever is a symptom that persists while magic fills the heart. In the Duchess’s case, it seems to require some more time.”

“How long?”

“Well, didn’t you say she’d been bedridden for four months with a damaged heart? Anyway, Duke Keppel, shouldn’t you be addressing me formally? After all, I am the royal envoy of Laran and practically a king.”

Ian respectfully bowed his head and responded.

“Thank you for coming.”

“…Is he making fun of me?” Raphael frowned, confused by Ian’s extreme politeness.

It wasn’t that I was taking Ian’s side—I just knew. He wasn’t intentionally being sarcastic; he was genuinely grateful for Raphael’s visit. No doubt he’d called him out of concern for me. To lift the mood, I smiled brightly and said,

“Is it okay for the royal envoy to be wandering around when the queen is expecting?”

“Actually, it is a bit problematic. I have state affairs to attend to, and ideally, my main job should be to find the queen’s real husband and keep him from wandering. But, as you can see, I’m rather incompetent,” Raphael said, casting a glance toward Benjamin, who was sitting quietly in a corner. I wondered if Benjamin was feigning ignorance or genuinely unaware, but I kept silent.

After escorting the two out, Ian asked me,

“What does the letter say?”

“She says she’s already feeling the baby move.”

I was reading Eloise’s letter. It was rare, but sometimes mage mothers could sense the magical aura of their unborn child, and Eloise’s child was one of those rare cases. The excitement was practically visible on the stationery, hinting that this child might grow to be an extraordinary mage.

“It hasn’t been long since we parted, but it already feels like ages,” I sighed.

Ian, as if it were nothing, replied, “Shall we visit Laran when the awakening fever ends?”

“Really?”

“We could even spend the winter there. I hear it’s warm in Laran, even during the winter.”

I blinked in surprise, unable to hide my astonishment. Ian, perhaps thinking I was hesitating, began to persuade me gently.

“Other nobles often spend the winter traveling or in warm retreats. Let’s do the same. Both you and I have worked hard, so the vassals will understand.”

Maybe coming close to death twice really does change a person. Smiling, I leaned against Ian’s chest. I hadn’t even finished reading the letter, but drowsiness was creeping in again.

“I hope it ends soon.”

“Are you sleepy again?”

I hesitated, wondering if I should tell him about the dream, then simply replied,

“Yes.”

“Then at least eat something before you sleep…”

“Not right now,” I replied lightly, closing my eyes. And once again, when I opened them, I found myself in the dream. I sat down with determination and began to read the book.

Before my awakening, the book had only shown me things from the future, but this time, it revealed scenes only from the past, particularly of my married life.

“The problem is, I can’t tell if this is the actual past or just my imagination…”

The book contained descriptions of Ian’s inner thoughts and feelings, as well as those of others, but I couldn’t be sure if they reflected what Ian had truly felt back then. The scenes seemed too conveniently in my favor. Perhaps it was just my subconscious filling in the gaps, shaping events as I wanted to remember them?

Even so, I found comfort in this dreamlike book.

Every time I turned a page, the scene would shift to a different time or situation, but I couldn’t look away. Eventually, the story reached further into the past, recalling the time when we had first met, before we were married.

Ian spotted Lady Hershey sitting with a gloomy face beyond the open doors of the parlor. She looked as though she had been dragged there against her will. The chaos in his mind instantly settled.

“Miss Hershey,.”

As he saw her glance back at him, he was certain—she didn’t want this marriage.

“Duke.”

“It’s Ian Keppel.”

“Yes, I know.”

Her voice was firm, her gaze unwavering, and her posture upright. There was a resolute pride about her, as if daring him not to pity her. Seeing this, Ian couldn’t bring himself to say any of the words of comfort he had prepared. He had no idea how to start the conversation.

In the end, it was Olivia who spoke first.

“I heard you’ve been busy lately, so thank you for making time for this.”

“…Don’t you think we should meet at least once before the wedding?”

‘Did he say something wrong?’ Ian saw her expression harden and fell silent. He didn’t realize that his own face was just as tense. Meanwhile, Olivia thought he must not be pleased about the marriage either, but neither could read the other’s thoughts.

An uncomfortable silence followed. Ian was used to these awkward encounters where his counterpart disliked him, so he was able to endure it, but Olivia was finding it almost unbearable. Once again, she couldn’t stand the awkwardness and forced a smile.

“I didn’t expect the Keppel family to hold me in such high regard.”

“My mother holds you in high regard.”

It was true that Adriana was particularly fond of her. But as the silence resumed, Ian realized he might have responded poorly. Reflecting on his words, he saw how it could sound as though the rest of his family—and even he himself—didn’t share that sentiment.

He berated himself. After making two foolish remarks, he now couldn’t even bring himself to speak first. Olivia, meanwhile, had given up trying to create a friendly, pleasant conversation. She smiled, having decided to be blunt.

“As I mentioned in my letter, as long as you support my mother to live comfortably as a noblewoman, I can accept any terms. Any terms at all.”

“….”

“The reason for arranging this meeting, despite your busy schedule, must be that there are terms you can’t put in writing, correct?”

Olivia looked directly at him, clearly expecting a response. Ian couldn’t meet her gaze. He thought he understood the answer she was hoping to hear. She probably believed the rumors currently spreading.

Rumors that the Keppel family had hidden the missing Empress, or the suspicions surrounding Arthur’s birth. The more Ian denied these allegations, the deeper the suspicions grew, and he was exhausted.

His mouth felt dry, like swallowing sand, so he sipped his tea slowly. After setting down his cup, he habitually rubbed his forehead. Otherwise, he feared he’d end up glaring at her.

This was his failure: not gaining full control of the administration, leaving enemies alive, and thus exposing his private affairs, giving others grounds to attack him.

But what choice did he have? Should he have eliminated everyone? Should he have turned Cadia into ruins? Ian took a deep, calming breath.

“Miss Hershey, I don’t know if you are aware, but I have someone in my heart. If you stay married to me for just three years, I will guarantee your future afterward.”

A lie. But Ian didn’t have the courage to reveal the truth. Oddly, he felt it wouldn’t matter; she wouldn’t believe it anyway.

If the person sitting across from him were anyone other than Olivia, perhaps he wouldn’t have cared. But she was different. Even with a blade at his throat, she was the one constant in his life.

It was a feeling too faint to name, something he hadn’t even attempted to define, but if he had to call it something, it was probably close to affection. She was the only person he had ever truly felt any warmth toward. The thought of her staying close, constantly doubting him, was suffocating.

So, instead, the three-year contract marriage was the smallest kindness he could offer. Since she was sacrificing herself for her mother’s sake, he didn’t think she would refuse his proposal of freedom after three years. At least, that’s what he thought…

“What? What do you mean?”

Olivia looked at him with wide, surprised eyes. Ian explained again.

“I am suggesting we get married on the premise that we will divorce in three years.”

The expression on her small, round face vanished instantly.

“No.”

It was the first time he’d seen such a cold expression on her face. But more surprising was that she had turned down his proposal. Ian muttered blankly.

“…No?”

“Yes, no. Your Grace, Duke Keppel, you have titles and wealth, so divorce might not be a blemish for you, but it’s different for me. I’d rather consider other marriage proposals than enter a marriage knowing it will end in divorce.”

Another proposal? Ian paused at that irritating phrase.

“Even if you make the same proposal to another noble lady, you’ll get the same answer. I heard there was no one willing to accept your proposal because of the rumors.”

Those damned rumors. She was convinced they were true. Ian felt a surge of frustration. He held back from saying that there were stacks of proposals in his mansion, despite those vulgar rumors, and instead replied bluntly.

“You are in a similar situation, aren’t you? Don’t you want to take good care of Lady Hershey?”

Olivia’s face brightened with a smile.

“Yes, that’s right. We align well in terms of interests, so we’ll make a good couple.”

Ian sat there in a daze, then found himself chuckling. Though it was their first conversation, he could tell from just a few exchanges that she wasn’t the type to back down easily. Nor was she as docile as her reputation implied. Strangely, he felt relieved by that.

“It’s time for me to go.”

Ian quickly nodded and strode out of the parlor. He struggled to hold back the laughter that kept bubbling up. He didn’t want to add to any misunderstanding about him being a strange person.

Huh…

I felt bewildered. I’d thought he had left that day mocking me, his attitude cold. This couldn’t have been something I’d filled in with my imagination; it was nothing like anything I’d ever imagined. And, up until now, I’d thought Ian hadn’t known a thing about me.

But if what was written here was true, had he really liked me all along?