A peaceful morning.

In the Grand Duchy of Felista, a quiet and unhurried hour was passing by.

A room where the only sound was the occasional clink of silverware.

Fruit, lightly toasted bread, and water.

Dressed in a thin chemise gown, Lacy was eating her breakfast in silence.

When her water glass ran dry, the handmaid standing beside her — Siz — quietly refilled it.

“Thank you.”

Lacy said simply, and returned to the rest of her meal.

Knock, knock.

“Come in.”

The door opened, and Mollis, the estate’s elderly butler, entered with a bow.

He delivered a letter that had come for Lacy.

“Your Highness, a letter has arrived from House Lennon.”

“Thank you.”

“Ah — and His Highness the Grand Duke has asked that you accompany him to the upcoming Imperial Ball.”

“……I understand.”

When Mollis bowed and withdrew, Lacy sat for a moment, lost in thought.

Brilliant morning sunlight poured in through the window, and eyes dark as the deepest black glimmered in the light.

“What shall we do about your dress, Your Highness?”

At Siz’s words, Lacy seemed to surface from her thoughts at last, and lifted her fork again. She said:

“See to it yourself.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

* * *

Click — the door opened, and Mollis stepped inside to stand before the master of the Felista Grand Duchy, Rafez Felista.

“What is the Grand Duchess doing?”

Rafez Felista was a war hero who had returned alive from the front — the only son of Grand Duke Louis Felista.

The moment Rafez came home from the war, Louis, whose health had been failing, passed the grand ducal title to his son and departed for the ducal territory.

Having become Grand Duke so abruptly, and then married almost immediately after, Rafez had spent the past six months living more busily than anyone.

“She was having breakfast, my lord.”

“……I see. What does she usually eat for breakfast?”

“Pardon?”

Rafez asked without lifting his eyes from his documents. When Mollis did not answer, he raised his head at last and looked at him.

“Ah — fruit and bread, for the most part, it seems. The details are all recorded in the household log, but……”

“I see. I wonder if she would mind if I asked to have breakfast together tomorrow.”

Rafez nodded and, sinking into thought, murmured quietly to himself — but the words reached Mollis’s ears with perfect clarity.

“……Your Highness?”

“Hm? Ah, come to think of it — doesn’t she need a dress for the Imperial Ball?”

“Pardon? Ah — no, nothing of that sort was mentioned.”

“I see. I’ll ask her about it later, then.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Mollis bowed and left the room — and the moment he was out, he found himself doubting everything he had just heard and said.

Rafez had returned from the war, inherited the grand ducal title, and married Lacy almost immediately. The time the two had spent together as husband and wife under this roof was six months.

In all that time, Rafez had shown not the slightest interest in Lacy.

It was difficult to say exactly why — but the truth was that the nature of Rafez and Lacy’s relationship made indifference not only natural, but preferable. If there were any interest between them, it would not be the good kind.

In the meantime, Rafez had been consumed with settling the backlog of affairs left to the Grand Duchy. Not that he was any less busy now — and yet, after six months of nothing, he was suddenly showing interest out of nowhere?

“Strange business.”

* * *

Having finished her breakfast, Lacy changed into her day clothes and settled into a chair with a book.

Even Siz had slipped out of the room. Free hours spent alone in a wide, empty room — this was Lacy’s daily routine.

She rarely ventured outside her room, and she did not concern herself with personal adornment or anything that might be called productive. Her meals were mostly light affairs taken in her room; afterward she would read, or sink into thought, or on the occasional evening step out with Siz for a brief walk through the gardens before coming back in.

Most of the estate’s servants knew her daily routine — and it was precisely because of that, that she was able to maintain it.

Free, if one chose to call it that. And if not, then not.

She was the only outsider in this house.

Lost in her book, Lacy suddenly remembered the letter she had received earlier.

“Ah.”

A letter opened with a very thin, precise slit.

It had arrived at her door because its contents were deemed permissible — which was to say, because it contained nothing of consequence. That was the only reason it had reached her at all.

This was nothing new. She had long since grown accustomed to it.

The letter said to meet at the appointed day on Rix Street. Among the few pleasures left to her in this quiet, unhurried life, the greatest were exchanging letters with her family and seeing her brothers. Though even that had dwindled to perhaps once a month by now.

To marry and move into a husband’s home meant living an entirely different life from everything she had known — it meant leaving the place that had been her own. But Lacy consoled herself that her current life was not so terrible.

Even if she ate and slept under someone’s watch. Even if every letter that came to her was read before it reached her hands. Even so — the days in which she could think alone, spend time alone, were days she could just barely endure.

And then.

“His Highness the Grand Duke has asked that you join him for dinner.”

At Mollis’s words, Siz, standing beside her, seemed startled as well.

Why now, and suddenly, for what reason.

“……I’m not feeling well.”

“Ah, yes. Understood.”

Mollis turned to go — then seemed to remember something, and turned back.

“His Highness also asked whether you might need a dress for the ball. If you were to give the word now, a new dress could be——”

“It’s fine.”

Lacy answered at once, before Mollis had even finished speaking.

“Ah, yes. Then I shall relay that as well.”

When Mollis left the room, Lacy sat with a bewildered expression, her eyes drifting.

What on earth had gotten into him, all of a sudden.

From the very first day she had come to live at the estate after the wedding, Lacy had not appeared at the dining table — and from then on, taking her meals separately in her room had simply become the way of things. He had not once invited her to dine with him.

And yet now, out of nowhere, he wanted to have a meal together. And was suggesting she have a dress made? This from a man who, even when they attended balls together, had never once given it a second thought.

“Siz, is the dress ready?”

“Yes, Your Highness. Though if you do need a new one——”

“No.”

What wind had suddenly blown through him.

* * *

A cake, prettily topped with red strawberries.

Lacy had been in the middle of sitting down when she caught sight of it and stopped.

It was no special occasion — just an ordinary morning like any other. A cake, out of nowhere. She looked up at Siz, but Siz seemed equally at a loss and said nothing.

Something strange had been unfolding since yesterday evening.

Knock, knock.

“Come in.”

The knock she had naturally assumed to be Mollis —

It was Rafez.

Lacy could not help but be startled at the sight of him walking through the door. Rafez had never once come to her room.

Had he come because she had refused dinner last night?

The blue eyes she hadn’t seen in so long felt strangely unfamiliar. She had never looked at them properly, not for this long. Then again, Rafez had never looked at her for long either.

“Your Highness.”

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yes.”

An awkward silence drifted between them. Neither could bring themselves to sit, and Rafez simply stood there by the door.

His gaze wandered around the room — and landed on the strawberry cake.

“Do you like the cake? I was told you were fond of strawberries, so I gave the order.”

“You knew…… that I liked strawberries.”

It was not such a remarkable thing, really.

She took every meal in her room — learning a preference like that would have been nothing at all. He would have been informed of everything through Siz regardless.

Even so — strawberries, which she loved so dearly. They had appeared in her dish exactly once. And never again after that.

And yet now, after all that, he was saying he had ordered a strawberry cake because she liked strawberries?

“Siz told me.”

Rafez admitted it readily. As though it were nothing.

“So what brings you here?”

“I don’t need a reason to come. Is this somewhere I’m not allowed?”

His reply was cool.

As though she had asked something utterly pointless. As though she had no right to ask such things at all.

Lacy had nothing to say to that.

“……You’re right. This is Your Highness’s estate.”

There was nothing to do but concede.

“That’s not what I meant. We’re husband and wife.”

Husband and wife. Words she was hearing from his lips for the first time.

Being called husband and wife was something that existed only in official settings.

They were a couple only when others referred to them as such — in reality, they were simply two people occupying the same estate. Nothing more, and nothing less.

“Yes.”

Lacy answered, perfectly flat.

“……Lacy.”

The moment Rafez called her name, Lacy’s expression stiffened further.

Not only was he claiming they were husband and wife — now he was calling her by name.

Why was he doing this. This man, what on earth.

“You’re wondering why I’m doing this, aren’t you?”

As though he had heard her thoughts, Rafez gave a small nod.

“I want to try doing it properly, starting now. This marriage of ours.”