“……”

Aiden deliberately placed the orange segment onto his mistress’s plate.

Across from them, Hazel let out an amused laugh.

“I did say I was surprised you invited your mistress to a family dinner.”

His voice carried a faint excitement, as though reminding them that they had been in the middle of a conversation.

Aiden sneered softly.

“You invite your mistresses to family dinners every day, don’t you? You seem different tonight as well.”

“I’m the one who’s falling apart. You’re the one who has to rise—Strilland and all of that. The noble Aiden Strilland, the very image of the late Duke.”

Grinning, Hazel winked at his wife.

Apparently fond of that scoundrel, she responded with a gentle smile.

With lavender candles and white floral arrangements dividing them in the center of the table, the two halves of the table seemed to represent entirely different worlds.

“My love.”

Playfully pouting, Hazel took his wife’s hand and kissed the back of it. The two of them resembled nothing so much as a pair of shameless, cooing brown ducks.

Aiden ignored the display. He calmly lifted a piece of crispy, succulent chicken to his mouth.

After dabbing his lips with a napkin, he glanced sideways at Sveta’s untouched plate.

The fruit that he had personally given her was still lying untouched at the edge of the plate.

The fish, fried to perfection and topped with white cream sauce and finely chopped tender greens, had not been touched either.

Sveta simply stared down at her plate. Her expression was soft and almost serene, yet quietly stubborn. She made no move to eat.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“My stomach isn’t well.”

Come to think of it, her complexion did look pale. There was no trace of spite or malice in her. She was not acting out of anger.

“A body that falls ill so often.”

Aiden’s green eyes darkened. At his gesture, a servant quickly brought chilled tea.

“Drink.”

Sveta lightly touched the glass containing the herbs, which were cut to the size of fingernails and floating on the surface. She then lowered her eyes in silence.

As if mocking the awkward silence between them, bright voices drifted over from the other side of the table.

“Shall I peel you an orange too?”

Hazel smiled at his wife and picked one up. As he peeled it, he was surprised by how delicate his hands felt.

His wife, a commoner, received the flawless segments and laughed softly with happiness.

Seeing this made something in Aiden’s chest swell unpleasantly. It was as though a gust of wind had risen inside him and was spiraling up towards his throat. It was as though his insides were twisting.

Under the table, he clasped Sveta’s slender hand.

“Your Grace… truly… my stomach isn’t well.”

She murmured faintly, her fingers fidgeting.

Another whirlwind tore through him.

A sharp breath escaped through his teeth.

Disgusted with himself for being unsettled by a single barbarian woman, he gripped her thigh tightly.

She flinched, but stubbornly kept her gaze lowered.

The shadows cast by her long lashes deepened the haze in her eyes.

His obstinate mistress did not look at him again until dinner was over.

***

“I hear there are rumors she used to be a beggar’s daughter. Is that true?”

Hazel frowned as he lit a cigar.

Seeing no reason to reply, Aiden folded his arms and looked out of the window.

It was a moonless night. Dense darkness seeped into his blonde hair.

“What exactly are you planning?”

His elder brother knew no shame.

In other words, he had a talent for asking awkward questions, regardless of whether he received an answer.

“Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love?”

Aiden slowly turned his gaze towards Hazel.

Leaning his head back against the wall, he shook it lazily from side to side.

As he exhaled cigar smoke and lifted his head, his attention was caught by a strand of brown hair stuck to the wall.

Frowning slightly, he replied.

“As if.”

“Then why?”

“A passing amusement.”

“A passing amusement? That I understand well.”

Drawing deeply on his cigar until his cheeks hollowed, Hazel smirked as though offering advice.

“I wonder how delighted the old Duke would be to learn of your current amusement.”

“You do take a keen interest in the old Duke.”

Ruffling the unruly brown hair falling over his forehead, Hazel chuckled.

“Interest? Of course. Hatred and affection are only a hair’s breadth apart. So be careful, Aiden.”

“Of what?”

“Your arrogance.”

“……”

Aiden did not bother to refute him.

“I’m talking about the Baroness Luce’s daughter. You’d do well to treat her properly. Affection can turn into hatred in an instant.”

Hazel always liked to say that love and hatred stood close together.

Aiden turned the words over briefly in his mind.

‘Hatred.’

Would she really become that kind of person?

He knew how her eyes would tremble whenever she said ‘I hate you’ or ‘I want to hate you’. He knew how her delicate brows would draw together each time, betraying her.

Sveta Luce — that simple, transparent woman — could never truly hate him.

A faint laugh slipped from between Aiden’s red lips.

Then, turning his gaze to the notorious libertine seated before him — a man who would outmatch every wastrel in the south, even if they were gathered in one place — Aiden spoke.

“You must have it difficult. There are so many women you must treat well.”

“I do treat them well. Even if they’re only passing amusements, I’ve always been sincere each time.”

“……”

Yawning widely, Hazel stubbed out his cigar.

“I’ll be staying a few days. I plan to show my wife around every corner of Renan. With our son. No need to wait for me.”

“Good. I wouldn’t have had the time anyway.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t.”

“……”

Stretching his arms overhead, Hazel groaned.

“I’m exhausted. I’m turning in.”

He reached a hand toward Aiden’s broad shoulder—lowering it just shy of contact, then giving the air an affectionate pat.

“It’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise.”

“Everything I said tonight—I meant it, Aiden.”

Watching Hazel’s retreating figure, not expecting an answer, Aiden replied.

“I know.”

***

Her bedroom was empty.

The scent of soap drifted from the bathroom — she must be having a bath.

Recalling his reason for coming, Aiden opened the small chest of drawers without hesitation.

“She said her stomach isn’t well.”

“There should still be plenty of digestive medicine left, shouldn’t there? She came by three days ago—the Baroness Luce’s daughter.”

“……”

“It’s in a bottle shaped like this. I gave her more than enough. She probably hasn’t even finished half.”

Remembering Ivan’s words, he quickly found the bottle he was looking for. Judging by the visible bottom, she had been taking it regularly.

He returned it to its place, but as he was about to close the drawer, he spotted a sharp glass lid.

“…This medicine.”

He let out a sharp, disbelieving breath.

There was no mistake.

It was the same contraceptive his detestable mother had sent to Hazel’s mistresses. Even more shockingly, the bottle was already half empty.

He had always taken quiet satisfaction in how easily Hazel accepted whatever he offered her. At times, the way her full, small lips parted so obediently had even seemed admirable to him.

But now, imagining those lips opening to swallow this medicine before making love to him—

— sent a chill through his chest.

“…Ha.”

The breath he exhaled mingled with the faint sound of retching coming from the bathroom.

Aiden glanced at the door, then calmly and efficiently sat down on the sofa. He waited, tapping his foot slowly.

He was waiting for the audacious mistress who had conspired with his mother to deceive him.

She did not come out.

And as he waited, the cold in his chest deepened.

“Sveta.”

He called her name for no reason at all.

‘Sveta, my deceitful mistress.’

He had never wanted a child. In fact, he should have felt relieved — perhaps even satisfied — that she had chosen to take the contraceptive pill of her own accord.

And yet—

Why did it leave such a bitter taste?

It didn’t take him long to realize what was causing his lingering unease.

If anything was to be decided, it should have been his decision.

If anyone was meant to falter, it should have been her.

What unsettled him was the fact that this simple truth refused to bend to his will.

She was a woman who repeatedly dragged him into violent tides of emotion. Whenever he thought of her, his heart stirred, whether with anger or something far more dangerous.

A suffocating tightness filled his chest, so he moved towards the window.

Beyond the glass, a night choked with clouds stretched out before him, the moon nowhere in sight. Beneath the heavy curtain of darkness, time seemed to crawl.

Standing in the shadows, Aiden watched quietly as Sveta stepped out of the bath.

“Thank you, Amy.”

“Yes, my lady. Please call me anytime!”

The brown-haired maid who had helped with the bath left, unaware that he was in the room.

There was no need for him to announce his presence. He hadn’t come to exchange pleasantries with a mere servant.

He held his breath and watched her.

“Ha…”

Letting out a long sigh, Sveta crossed the bedroom slowly.

Her slowness in rummaging through the rosewood dresser with the mirror betrayed her overwhelming fatigue.

“Are you looking for this?”

At the sudden sound of his voice, her shoulders jolted as she turned.

When she saw the medicine bottle in his hand, her slender body began to tremble.

“How did you…?”

“Have you enjoyed deceiving me all this time?”

“Deceiving you? It was you who told me to behave strictly like a mistress.”

‘She answers back so neatly.’

A faint scoff escaped him.

“Well done.”

“…What?”

Her full lips, which had just been speaking boldly, parted in confusion.

“I mean behaving strictly like a mistress.”

Without losing his crooked smile, Aiden stepped closer.

She did not avert her eyes from his frighteningly calm gaze.

“But deceiving me—that is another matter.”

He closed his hand around her wrist, thin as dried grass.

As though trying to appear defiant, she replied firmly.

“I did not deceive you.”

And yet she did not dare shake off his grip.

It was almost laughable.

“If you seek forgiveness…”

Placing the bottle of contraceptive pills into her hand, Aiden leaned close and whispered in a low, clouded voice.

“Smile.”