“A… box of secrets?”

“You were the one who insisted I tell you.”

Beth’s eyes gleamed strangely. The light in them reminded Sveta of Jace’s piercing gaze. She swallowed hard, her throat dry.

“There was a maid named Beka at the viscountess’s estate. She happened to look a lot like me. Blue eyes. Black hair.”

“……”

“No—more like she resembled you.”

The sharp teeth of the comb scraped down through Sveta’s hair in one long stroke. Beth lifted it again and placed it back near the crown of her head.

“When you think about it, it’s rather funny. You had black hair and I had orange hair. You used to comb my hair, remember? Now the situation’s reversed.”

Beth curved her round eyes into a smile.

Yet despite her gentle expression, Sveta felt a nameless chill creep up her spine and crawl towards the nape of her neck.

She shuddered faintly.

“Anyway, Beka was very good at her job. Exceptionally good, in fact. That’s why she received such an impressive reference. The day she quit, I quit too.”

Beth’s full lips stretched into a long, horizontal curve.

Sveta stared blankly at the sharp smile spreading across Beth’s reflection in the mirror.

Beth kept her mouth closed, gazing at Sveta as though inviting her to ask more.

Sveta let her gaze drift to the gilded vine carved along the edge of the mirror and whispered.

“Then… what happened to Beka?”

“What happened?”

The comb stopped moving abruptly halfway down her waist-length hair.

Suddenly, her scalp was yanked and she felt a sharp, immediate pain. As the comb was dragged downwards with force, strands of tangled hair broke off and fell away.

“Ah—”

Sveta let out a small cry.

Lifting the loosened hair in her hand, Beth said quietly.

“…I killed her.”

“Beth…”

Beth was the princess of Zloytan, with the blood of Jace Gould running through her veins.

This meant that she felt no remorse for killing.

When she heard the news about Mary from Madame Nora, she realized that the vague unease she had been feeling was the cause.

The method had been far too familiar.

A crushing despair settled over Sveta.

“Did you kill Mary too?”

“Who?”

“The laundry maid who was found dead.”

“Ah… her?”

As if she had just remembered something, Beth lightly clapped the comb against her palm. The reddish strands caught between its teeth quivered and hung down.

“She called you a filthy beggar. She was absolutely furious—spreading rumors everywhere.”

“Even so, how could you…”

“I had to shut that damned mouth. You know me. I can tolerate anything—but not people who insult you. Insulting you is the same as insulting me.”

Sveta bit down on her lip, swallowing the sigh that tried to escape.

As if soothing a child, she whispered.

“This isn’t Zloytan, Beth. If you kill someone here, you’ll be punished. And you can’t kill a person for that reason.”

“Really? I didn’t know.”

“……”

Beth blinked several times, her eyes round and guileless—like an innocent child.

“But that man is killing our brothers too. That’s murder as well.”

“What? That’s…”

Sveta could not finish.

“The brothers you speak of are murderers,” she wanted to say. They are men who have plundered and committed every imaginable crime.

Their actions could not be compared to Aiden’s ruthless vengeance.

But during the darkest period of her life, Beth was the only person to smile kindly at her.

She was the sister who had deceived Jace Gould, betrayed her own brothers, and helped Sveta escape.

How could she speak cruelly to her?

“Sveta.”

Beth’s reflection in the mirror wore the same expression.

Her brows drooped miserably as she continued to comb her hair. Suddenly, her voice began to tremble.

“It was a sacrifice I made to save you. No other life means anything to me. You’re the only one that matters.”

“……”

“Sveta, you know that. I can’t live without you. That’s why I risked my life to come here. I was so frightened today, too…”

“…Beth.”

“If I stay here any longer, I’ll be discovered eventually. And then I— I…”

Beth pressed herself against Sveta from behind, wrapping her arms around her.

Tucking Sveta’s soft hair behind her ear, Beth brought her lips close and whispered.

“Sveta, let’s run away together.”

“What…?”

“This time, we’ll really go to Muwieo.”

“Run away?”

“Yes. If we go to Muwieo, no one will chase us. We promised when we were children, remember? That we’d go there and live happily together.”

“But—”

As Sveta tried to turn her head, two hands reached out from behind her and cradled her face.

Beth held her firmly and forced her to look straight ahead.

“Is it because of that beast of a man?”

Sveta’s eyes wavered.

In the mirror, the woman who looked exactly like her lifted the corners of her mouth into a sharp smile.

“We’re family, aren’t we? You can’t abandon your family over a single man. Right?”

But Beth was also Jace Gould’s daughter. She was as impulsive as boiling water and as unpredictable as a stormy sky.

This had to be foolishness.

Sveta forced her voice to remain calm.

“Run away? Beth, that’s…”

“Run away!”

She told her to run away with her.

She should have refused at once.

And yet, strangely, the words tasted sweet.

They hurt, too.

Perhaps because something deep inside her had been wounded, her stomach began to ache again. She bent slightly, pressing a hand to her abdomen.

Beth drove the point home.

“Think about what that perverted bastard has done to you. Of course you have to run. Don’t you?”

***

Fifteen days after Aiden received the letter, Viscount Oitbern finally arrived at the ducal estate.

It was a humid evening and the summer sky was heavy with clouds. It was just one week before the anniversary of his sister’s death.

Hazel arrived well past the agreed time, greeting them with a careless grin.

After exchanging brief greetings with his elder brother, Aiden led Hazel directly to the dining room, where dinner was already prepared and waiting.

“Sit, my lord.”

Hazel waved away the servant who had hurried forward to help and pulled out his wife’s chair.

He only took his own seat once his wife was seated.

It seemed that the notorious wastrel had finally grown up.

Aiden hid his surprise behind a perfectly composed expression as he observed his brother and sister-in-law.

Absently tugging at the loosened knot of his cravat, Hazel asked.

“Where’s Mother?”

“She requires an extended rest.”

“What did you do?”

“I did nothing. Lady Noma did.”

“Hm…”

He pushed back the strand of brown hair that had fallen across his forehead and looked directly at Sveta.

He rubbed his chin with his thumb as he studied her.

His green eyes — similar to his own, yet different — scanned her in a way that made her feel uncomfortable.

Unaware of his thoughts, Sveta lowered her eyes demurely and stirred her thin soup in silence.

Hazel asked again.

“What on earth did Mother do to require such a ‘long rest’?”

“……”

“Did she touch your bow or something?”

“Still on about that?”

Hazel occasionally brought up the time when they came of age, and Aiden took his bow during the Hunting Festival.

The curve of Hazel’s mouth betrayed his attempt to suppress a grin.

The petty spite of a defeated man was easy enough to tolerate.

Aiden lifted one corner of his lips in a fleeting smile.

“Then what exactly did she touch to require such a lengthy ‘rest’?”

“……”

The roguish gleam in Hazel’s green eyes, which had previously been fixed on his brother’s mistress, now shifted to his champagne glass.

He drained it quickly and let out a short laugh.

Glancing at Sveta once more, he nodded as though something had fallen into place.

“I see what she touched. You haven’t changed.”

After cutting his steak, Aiden put a large piece in his mouth. After swallowing quietly, he replied in an even tone.

“You haven’t changed either, Hazel.”

“I’m consistent. Ah—no. Actually, you seem a little different.”

“……”

“Inviting your mistress to a family dinner. That’s not like you.”

Aiden lifted a forkful of parsley-flecked mashed potatoes and glanced down at Sveta.

Her black lashes cast long shadows beneath her eyes. The blue of her irises, which had been barely visible for days, was now obscured.

‘What on earth is she thinking?’

His mistress had been strange lately.

She had never been the type of person to beg for things. He liked that about her. Her neat manner suited him. She didn’t cling or pester, which made their relationship convenient.

She would sometimes argue back, being both stubborn and precise in her replies, but more often than not, she did as he wished.

At a single word from him, she would sink into misery. At the slightest glance, her face would betray a love she could not hide. Seeing her flushed with pleasure was a great delight, too.

“I love you, Your Grace.”

She would confess whenever he wanted her to.

She had done so again the previous night.

And yet, something was different this time.

‘What is it?’

Aiden put down his fork and began peeling an orange.

When he held out a segment, dripping with juice, Sveta shook her head slightly.

Her sunset-colored hair shimmered softly over the shoulders of her pale green dress.

She looked like a flower blooming against a midsummer wall; yet she also seemed utterly drained of strength, as though she had just endured a torrential downpour.

He did not like this.

Yes. This could only be called insolence.

A woman who had always clung to him was now holding herself back. That was undoubtedly improper.

His voice turned cold.

“Eat.”