“Ah… yes, then…”

Her heart began to pound restlessly and her ears burned as though they were pressed against a hot blade.

‘What if he suddenly loses his temper again, after being so gentle just now…’

Uneasy, she obediently accepted the orange into her mouth.

Drops of bright juice spattered and slid messily over and over as he fed her. At some point, the liquid trickling down his smooth leather glove began to look almost indecent.

‘Insane! What are you even thinking right now?’

Condemning her impure thoughts, Sveta scanned her surroundings: the wisteria hanging loosely from the ceiling; his golden hair; and the pink butterflies on the teacup and saucer. Then her gaze returned to the tangled vines.

“Have you been angry all this time?”

“No. How could I ever be angry with you, my lord?”

Once again, she put a mangled piece of orange in her mouth. She chewed it quietly and lowered her eyes.

“You look angry.”

“That’s only because you choose to see me that way.”

“……”

He soon washed his hands in the water that the head maid had set out for him, then rose to his feet.

“Finish the cup.”

With those final words, Aiden disappeared into the maze garden.

Sveta swirled her teacup listlessly in slow circles.

She lifted the cup and took a sip of the remaining tea. The sugar that had settled at the bottom melted softly across her tongue. It was fragrant.

“…It’s good.”

He had seemed kinder. It was almost as if he had wanted to treat her well.

But the more she thought about his behavior, the angrier she became.

It took her less than a day to realize, however, that it had only been an illusion.

◯◯◯

Golden sunlight streamed in through the wide-open stable doors. The horse’s massive body shone like a valuable rug in the sunlight.

“Wow… you’re really beautiful, aren’t you?”

The mane slipped between her fingers like silk. Dongle whinnied happily at her strokes.

“See? You’re smart, too! Look, Dongle—you’re not stupid, you’re not crazy, and you’re certainly not deaf.”

She was almost clapping her hands in delight when someone let out a stifled laugh.

“…I thought no one was here.”

Her voice shrank at once, deflated, and Pablo bowed his head in apology.

“I just arrived. I didn’t hear anything at all, my lady.”

“Truly?”

“…No, that’s not true. I heard everything.”

“……”

Mortification made her want to crawl into the nearest haystack and disappear.

Seeing her lips moving silently, Pablo quickly added,

“I do it too, you know. When I’m on my own, I talk to the horses, praise them and even sing to them.”

“…Really?”

“Yes. Truly. If you wish, I could even sing a song now.”

With a guileless expression, he rubbed the back of his neck.

There was no hint of a lie, so Sveta answered with a faint smile.

“There’s no need for that.”

“That’s a relief. Whenever I sing, the horses cry.”

“Is that so? I think I would laugh.”

Pablo’s narrow eyes curved into thin slits as he burst into laughter, as though she had just told the funniest joke ever.

Sveta laughed with him.

The truth was that, ever since she had shared tea with Aiden, her mood had been far too buoyant to remain steady. That was why such foolish words kept spilling from her lips.

She could no longer contain this feeling.

Because it had grown too big, too overwhelming.

And because, secretly, she liked it.

“If you need anything at all, just tell me. I’ll help however I can. Anything but singing.”

“Thank you, Pablo.”

His ears flushed red.

“You remembered?”

“What?”

“My name.”

“Of course. Naturally—”

Suddenly, the light around them dimmed.

Someone was standing in the doorway, blocking the entrance like a towering gate with the sun behind them.

Sveta’s gaze shifted from Pablo, the stable hand, to the massive shadow looming in front of her.

Recognising who it was, Pablo bowed deeply. He had just begun to make his way to the back door when—

“Stay.”

The duke’s chilling voice stopped him cold.

“What are you doing here.”

“I was admiring the horses.”

Aiden strode closer to Sveta.

Now that he had stepped fully inside, his perfectly sculpted features were clearly visible.

He wore an expression of displeasure and radiated a heavy, storm-laden aura.

The man was already enormous, but looking angry made him appear even larger. He was terrifying.

Sveta looked up at his finely shaped brows.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“The one at fault is not you, but him.”

The duke shot Pablo a piercing look, causing him to shrink back into the corner.

“Is it your duty to flirt idly with my mistress?”

“N-No, my lord.”

“What is your work?”

With his hands clasped together as though in prayer, Pablo answered, his voice trembling with a sense of powerlessness in the face of the overwhelming presence.

“M-My duty is to tend the horses.”

Aiden let out a quiet, scornful breath.

“Are you suggesting that my mistress is a horse?”

“I would never… never dare think such a thing, my lord. Absolutely not.”

The duke bent a finger towards the open stable doors. His steward approached at once, and Aiden gave him an order.

“Find a new stable hand.”

Pablo’s face turned deathly pale. He did not dare to object. Sveta was in the same position.

That frigid green gaze lingered on her cheek for a long moment before finally moving away. Aiden turned on his heel and strode out of the stable.

Pablo collapsed onto the ground. His eyes, filled with wounded reproach, fell on her.

“I’ll speak to him myself… so wait, Pablo.”

Gathering her skirts, Sveta hurried out of the stable.

“Please, wait!”

It was almost impossible to keep up with his long, relentless strides. Without sparing her a glance, he returned to his study.

By the time she reached the doorway, breathless, he was standing there with his arms crossed, leaning askew against the wall.

This pose was unusually casual for him, but the stark indifference on his face was entirely his own.

“It’s because of me… I-I was the one who spoke to him. Pablo did nothing wrong.”

Her words tumbled out in a rush before she could catch her breath. His eyes fell coldly upon her heaving chest.

“The mistake was in speaking with you at all.”

“Please reconsider, my lord.”

“And why should I?”

Why?

Sveta wanted to ask the same question.

Why are you being so cruel? Why do you make everything so difficult?

Their eyes locked. He exhaled a harsh, heavy sigh, and her racing thoughts stopped abruptly.

“Why…?”

Why do I want you so much? Why can’t I stop looking at you? Even though you are cold, why do I—

The question turned inward, piercing her own heart.

She lowered her head and whispered weakly,

“His work is all he has… and yet he might lose it, only because he spoke to me.”

“You are my mistress. By speaking with you, he challenged my authority. I cannot allow that.”

“But—”

“When you begged me to take you as my mistress, did you not expect things like this?”

“I… I—”

Her throat closed tight. Although she had an ocean’s worth of words inside her, only a thin sigh slipped past her lips.

“Was it only the privilege you wanted?”

“No, never…! How could you say something so cruel—”

Her words, cut sharp and jagged, bristled into pointed shards.

“Then take this chance to learn responsibility.”

With that, he stepped into his study and closed the door behind him.

Dennis, who had been waiting at a respectful distance, followed him in. His expression was faint.

What a cruel man. Cold-blooded. He was a wretched brute who always chose the cruelest words.

The sharp words she had swallowed were lodged in her throat, scraping it raw. Her throat burned.

With her head bowed low, Sveta bit her lip hard. Her eyes stung with heat.

Then, suddenly, a rounded shoe tip appeared in her line of vision.

“…Sir Bartley?”

Ivan pulled down the corners of his mouth and slowly and deliberately began to mouth words. His lips moved soundlessly, as if he were a carp rising and falling, for what seemed like ten sentences. Finally, he nodded firmly before heading into the study.

‘It’s not the lady’s fault.’

That was all she could make out. For now, though, that one sentence was enough.

◯◯◯

Elise Strilland had recently heard a strange rumor.

It claimed that her son, Aiden, was completely under the spell of his mistress.

“They say he dismissed the entire laundry staff for being insolent and expelled a stable boy simply for talking to her.”

And look here, madam. This is the list of jewels and gowns that His Grace gave her. It goes on and on.”

He’s even gone so far as to move her into the duchess’s chambers.”

If it had been her husband, Charles Strilland, he would have flown into a rage at such news. But Elise welcomed it.

Arrogant Aiden. Selfish Aiden.

‘The man who left my daughter Nadia to die, running off to save himself—he deserves to die a thousand times.’

Elise first met Aiden Strilland twenty-five years ago. The second son of the late Duchess, he had been strikingly gifted from a young age.

He was a bright, gentle boy with a constant smile who was always ready to embrace anyone who reached out to him. He was so lovable that it was almost unbearable.

How could she not have loved him? Indeed, she had — if only for a year.

However, when Aiden returned alive from the abduction in which Nadia died, her love for him instantly turned to hatred.

One year of love. Twenty-four years of loathing.

Her hatred was deep. Boundless.

So Elise found herself favoring Sveta Luce over Aiden. It was only natural. Sveta was the foster daughter of her old friend Dalia. Besides, no one in this world could earn her contempt quite like Aiden could.

However, the latest news to reach Elise was something else entirely…

“They say she is the daughter of the Zloytan chieftain. Beth Gould.”

The portrait handed to her by her informant showed the barbarian princess without a doubt—Sveta Luce.