I gave a small, awkward laugh, suddenly becoming self-conscious. Only then did Aiden seem to snap out of it, finally opening his mouth to speak.

“Sorry, I was just… surprised. I mean, looking like that, why on earth would you ever…”

“It’s just that… well, for a lot of reasons, I felt embarrassed.”

I wasn’t sure if this vague excuse would be accepted, but Aiden nodded stiffly, as though he were a wooden puppet whose joints needed oiling.

Sunlight poured gently into the garden.

The warm rays landed on his head, turning his light brown hair almost golden. Oddly enough, it reminded me of the biscuits I’d baked earlier. The colour was exactly the same.

I’d tried using the oven for the first time that morning and ended up baking far too many. I put some aside for Aiden, not only because of how much he’d helped me lately, but also because the biscuits had actually turned out pretty well.

“Oh—Aiden, wait! I have something for you. Could you hang on just a moment?”

Without waiting for a reply, I dashed back into the house, grabbed the packed basket, and went back to where I had left him.

He was still standing in the same spot.

I held out the basket of biscuits towards him.

“Here, they’re nothing fancy, but they’re a thank-you gift for your help. You’ve helped me so much, and I baked these this morning.”

“Uh… thanks.”

He looked strange.

His expression was oddly dazed, and he hadn’t properly responded since earlier.

He was still staring at me, and, to be honest, I was starting to feel embarrassed.

‘Am I really that unusual to look at?’

Then again, people with silver hair and violet eyes probably weren’t commonplace in this village.

Aiden scratched the back of his head, then suddenly took a step back.

“Um… Diana. I—I should get going. Try not to water the garden too much, okay?”

“You’re leaving?”

He didn’t answer.

He just turned and practically fled, as though he were running from danger.

Left alone again, I sat on a bench in the garden and stared at the tall stack of Awenzian textbooks he had left behind.

Textbooks for learning Awenzian.

‘Was this his way of telling me to study independently?’

***

“Whew…”

Aiden finally let out the breath he’d been holding only after he’d put a good distance between himself And Diana’s house.

Unconsciously, he covered his mouth with one hand, his pale brown lashes fluttering shut before he forced them open again.

He’d marched over there intending to begin Diana’s first Awenzian lesson.

But the moment she took off her robe, his heart threatened to explode, so he did the only sensible thing and ran away.

Now, a wicker basket dangled from his hand, swinging gently.

Only then did he realise that she had given him a gift.

Through the gap in the paper wrapping, he could see neat stacks of golden-brown biscuits.

Thump, thump.

His heart, which had been beating so loudly that it had drowned out his thoughts, finally slowed down. His mind cleared just enough for him to realise one thing.

‘She’s too beautiful.’

Heat scorched his ears. Aiden scrubbed a hand over his face, hoping a splash of cold water would help, but his pulse was still racing.

Honestly, when she dropped the robe, he’d half-believed a faerie had stepped into the garden.

Her silver hair glowed softly in the sun, her skin was as pale as new snow, and her face was so small that you wondered how her eyes, nose and mouth could all fit on it.

And those lashes, those wondrous violet eyes…

“Sorry, I was just surprised. I mean, looking like that, why would you ever…?”

‘Idiot.’

Aiden smacked his forehead.

“Looking like that? At the very least, I could have said ‘gorgeous’.”

He’d been so stunned that nonsense had come out of his mouth.

At last, he understood Diana a little better: she’d been hiding her face because she was simply too beautiful.

‘Makes sense.’

Through his sisters, he had seen first-hand how having a pretty face could make life difficult.

From childhood onwards, men in the village would suddenly appear, either confessing their love or flirting with his sisters, much to their annoyance. Festival days were the worst — every man in town would fight to share a table with them, and Aiden would always have to play bouncer.

But Diana? She was ten — no, a hundred — times more beautiful than his sisters. She had probably had to deal with far worse attention all her life.

‘With a face like that, it wouldn’t just be the men of this village—every man in the entire kingdom would be lining up to stare.’

“…”

By the time the heat in Aiden’s ears had finally subsided, he started walking again.

Reaching into the basket Diana had given him, he took out a biscuit and put it in his mouth.

Crunch.

He took a bite—

—and nearly spat it out.

‘W-Why is this cookie so salty?!’

***

That same day, Claude set out for the imperial palace without warning.

Deeply concerned for his master’s health, Hans tried to stop him, but Claude ignored his pleas.

He was visibly agitated, not because Princess Verche had lied to him, but because his faint hope that Diana might still be alive had been rekindled.

Princess Verche had made it clear that Diana had thrown herself into Lake Fritasha.

The lake was said to be impossibly deep, and recovering a body from its depths was almost impossible.

A bitter laugh escaped Claude’s lips.

‘If Diana truly were alive… then Verche naming Lake Fritasha so specifically must’ve been to avoid demands for the body. She didn’t want anyone asking for a corpse she knew didn’t exist.’

‘I was a fool.’

Claude admitted it. When it came to Diana, he’d lost all sense of reason.

***

He soon found himself standing inside the palace, where the weary-looking Princess Verche received him.

Since the investiture of the crown prince, her workload had clearly increased.

“Duke Cassel. We meet again. What brings you here today?”

Her gaze briefly drifted to Claude’s bandaged left wrist before returning to his face.

At this point, she had not yet heard what had happened at the Cassel estate.

“Your Highness, Is it true that Princess Diana is dead?”

Verche sighed at the bluntness of the question. She closed her eyes for a long moment before reopening them, her expression etched with fatigue.

“Have you come to ask about that again, Duke? As far as I’m aware, that matter was settled long ago.”

“No, it’s not over.”

Claude replied immediately, his voice sharp.

Verche’s eye twitched faintly, but he continued undeterred.

“I know what you’re afraid of. You’re afraid that House Cassel will bring charges against the royal family, aren’t you?”

“…What are you talking about?”

“The sight of Diana alive would be irrefutable proof that dark magic was used.”

Verche’s pupils wavered, though her voice remained steady.

“I appreciate your concern, but I don’t understand what you’re implying. As I’ve already told you, the royal family didn’t use dark magic.”

Claude’s lips curved into a thin smile. Of course she would answer like that — one can admit anything with mere words.

He folded his hands on his knees, then leaned back in his chair.

“I won’t press charges.”
“Pardon?”
“About anything.”

Verche silently studied the insolent duke. Though his face was drawn and thin, his eyes shone with an unsettling clarity—bordering on madness.

Claude, as if awaiting her response, went on slowly, each word carefully measured.
“Even if Princess Diana is alive, I won’t make an issue of it. I stake the honour of House Cassel on that.”

“……”

‘Is he certain? Certain that Diana is alive? But how could he possibly know…?’

A flutter of unease crept up her spine.

She opened her mouth, desperate to counter—when Claude spoke again:

“I killed my father.”