Something heavy fell at her feet. Reflexively looking down, a green gleam reflected in her vision.

The emerald necklace.

A gem that couldn’t be bought even if she offered her house and all the assets her brother-in-law had taken rolled on the floor.

“……!”

She involuntarily gasped. While she hesitated.

“Unexpectedly fastidious.”

Her arm was grabbed. As she hurriedly tried to open the door with her other hand, Radilt’s body was instantly pushed against the wall as if trapped. Her eyes, the same color as the fallen jewel, opened wide. Fear settled in them.

“Let me go!”

She pushed the man with all her might, but he didn’t budge. With his back to the window, a dark shadow loomed over her head. Her heart beat rapidly. Gasping breaths like moans escaped between Radilt’s lips.

“Mrs. Radilt Brill.”

A large hand gripped one shoulder. That alone prevented Radilt from escaping. She could only press her back tightly against the wall and shrink herself small.

“You said.”

Long fingers lightly touched the silver ornament pinned in her blonde hair. Though it was just that, Radilt flinched as though struck hard.

“You would return everything.”

He caressed the earrings swinging by her ears, then slowly, smoothly stroked down her nape. Her exposed white skin trembled. The smooth line connecting to her shoulder….

“……Sir Duston!”

The curve rising gently below.

With his movement clearly purposeful, Radilt’s face turned pale as the man’s fingertips finally grasped the ribbon ties fastening the chest of her dress. Bending his head close enough to touch her reddened ears, despite her pallid face.

“You should remove this dress as well before you leave.”

He whispered coldly. With a silent scream, the long flowing ribbon fell, covering the green jewel. Simultaneously, vivid remnants of the past appeared over Radilt’s wide-open eyes and numbed ears.

Such is the fate of a widow.

On that day, Lady Randit handed warm tea to Radilt, who was huddled and trembling with bruised arms and torn clothes.

An easy woman, without an owner or consequences.

She warned Radilt, especially being young and pretty, never to walk alone in deserted places after sunset. Never set foot in secluded areas even during daylight.

Having barely escaped harsh treatment, Radilt had nodded with tears in her eyes.

So she knew well. The darkening gazes that changed upon realizing her situation. The sticky looks she should guard against and avoid.

Those very eyes, filled with male lust, now constricted her breath.

‘……Ah.’

The chest of her dress slowly opened. Like a pale yellow petal forcibly torn before blooming, it revealed its white interior helplessly. Though her corset remained underneath, her hollowed collarbones and even the softly rounded upper chest lay fully exposed under the man’s gaze.

Under those blue-gray eyes that had darkened fiercely, ready to devour the deepest parts of the woman.

Radilt’s vision alternated between burning red and cooling blue. Between her gasping lips, something barely recognizable as sound escaped.

“……No—”

She twisted her body with all her might. She reached for the closed door.

“Let me go! Someone, please!”

Pendlore’s arm caught her struggling waist too easily. Her skirt brushed against the wall as her feet lifted off the ground.

“Kyaah! Let go! Help me! Please—”

“Quiet.”

Shh. She felt the man’s breath right beside her nape. His lips so close she feared he might bite her. Radilt’s neck chilled, and her cries stopped as though her mouth had been covered.

Her delicate hands, flailing in the air, rested on his broad shoulders and trembled. She pushed with all her might in a final struggle, but it was useless.

Radilt breathed heavily in terror, completely lifted and held in Pendlore’s arms like a young girl.

Blue branches swaying beyond the window, beautiful antique furniture bathed in long streaks of sunlight. Birdsong came from somewhere. The outside world remained peaceful and quiet, seemingly unrelated to what happened inside the glass window, suggesting no one would offer help.

The annex, where no one dared enter without the master’s permission. A cage full of blooming flowers.

Tap, shoe heels struck the smooth floor of the reception room. The emerald necklace entangled with ribbon caught under Pendlore’s turning feet. Radilt was released onto a round chair made of imported reeds placed before the glass window.

“……!”

The woman in the yellow dress curled up tightly, bristling defensively. Like a frightened canary hiding in its nest with fluffed feathers. A pitiful bird staring clearly at the approaching snake yet unable to flee, only holding its breath.

The sight made his breathing slightly labored.

Pendlore inserted his finger between his half-loosened collar and opened it wider. With each small movement from the man, Radilt’s eyes, shoulders, and hands clutching the chair trembled nervously.

‘She’s completely terrified.’

Where had that spirit gone when she removed and held out the necklace? Now she only watched his every move. If he reached out now, would she be so startled she might cry?

Radilt Brill. Threatening this trembling woman would not be difficult for him. With just a few cold words, he could make her throw herself to the floor and beg for forgiveness.

Disheveled blonde hair and a dress revealing her flesh. Wet green eyes crawling toward him, dragging her legs to cling and plead.

Pendlore’s lips hardened with displeasure.

She was a woman who had torn up their contract at will and tried to run away. He didn’t need to feel sympathy, but nevertheless, her cowering appearance displeased him. Something about it bothered him inexplicably.

“Tsk.”

A short click of his tongue echoed, and Pendlore stepped back.

“……?”

One step, then another. As Pendlore retreated two large steps, Radilt’s eyes filled with confusion. She had expected to be pulled back immediately and thrown to the cold floor, treated roughly. Yet he stepped back instead.

The tension that had filled her relaxed slightly. Radilt glared at Pendlore without completely lowering her guard.

A brief silence passed.

“Haven’t you done enough foolish things?”

Pendlore spoke with a scornful coldness that looked down on and trampled his opponent.

“Unless you have some hobby of floundering in mud while embracing three burdens.”

Hearing him mock her situation, Radilt bit her lower lip. Her tightened chin trembled slightly.

“Stop this nonsense of stubbornly refusing sponsorship out of meager pride.”

“……Pride……?”

Haha, Radilt let out a dry laugh. A cold flame kindled in her heart that had been full of fear.

“Yes, I suppose I did have some pride.”

She had indeed been hurt by Pendlore’s cold attitude. She had also found her powerless, dragged-along situation pathetic.

“But Sir Duston. I know very well that, as you say, pride is nothing but futilely insubstantial before reality.”

Pride, that mere pride.

“Since the day Lushen, my husband, died.”

Her green eyes settled quietly. Deep and deeper, as though searching through the flowing past.

“Did you offer sponsorship? Even from that brief time last night, I felt fully how much you could bestow upon me. I would lack nothing. It would be abundant. I could comfortably rest my head with a contract lover without needing to work hard. I know this very well.”

The corners of Radilt’s expressionless lips turned upward. She held a sharp smile.

“Because I’ve already experienced it.”

It had been more modest than the position of Pendlore Duston’s lover. But back then, Radilt hadn’t worried about her life at all. Baron Lushen Sentangs was young and healthy, with adequate wealth and the talent to increase it. And he willingly shared all of it with his beloved wife.

“My husband’s protection was comfortable. It was the small world where Mrs. Sentangs lived. I, Sir Duston, mistakenly thought that world was mine.”

That it would naturally remain mine forever. How foolish.

“But when the fence collapsed, everything disappeared. Holding only a worn-out house to lie in, the remainder of Radilt Brill’s life was thrown away. A widow who knew nothing. A woman who had never earned a single coin with her own hands. A fool who wandered the streets for a whole week without being able to utter a word asking for work.”

Each word rang sharply, as though cutting her own flesh.

“At first, I did menial work without even showing what I had learned from my husband. Unable to endure even a year alone, I sold my wedding ring to buy food.”

Her empty finger rose. Pendlore’s gaze fell on where the wedding ring had once shone. A white finger now without even a trace of the past.

Radilt knew that emptiness painfully well.

“Your sweet mercy, the splendid dresses, shining jewels, and all other luxuries cannot become Radilt Brill’s.”

The cold reality was.

“Because the powerless widow crouched before you won’t even be able to keep what she’s given.”

Three months, perhaps much sooner. The moment Pendlore’s interest ended, Radilt’s hands would return empty again. No matter how much she received, she would helplessly fall, torn by the teeth of hungry wolves.

“It’s neither foolish behavior nor meager pride. Wouldn’t it be truly foolish to abandon my work, trusting the money of a man I met just yesterday evening and haven’t even known for a full day?”

What could she possibly trust? Knowing how long that generosity would last?

“So, Sir Duston. I will take responsibility for myself.”

The frightened bird in the nest puffed out its chest.

“I will find work on my own, establish myself, and live on the money I earned with my own hands. Even if it looks shabby and worthless in your eyes, this is how I have lived and how I will continue to live.”

The small, modest pride of having taken responsibility for and managed herself. Though that firmness remained unchanged, Radilt shrank back again after finishing her words. The fear that had temporarily retreated crept back.

‘……Did he really listen properly?’

No matter how earnestly she spoke, it would only seem laughable to that man. She hadn’t expected anything. Instead, as Radilt schemed to escape at the first opportunity, she heard.

“I see.”

Pendlore’s calm voice reached her.