Aiden entered the bedroom alone.

Only the familiar silence greeted him. The woman who used to hesitate before approaching him was no longer there.

He knew there would be no answer, but he called her name anyway.

“Sveta.”

He placed the silver tray on the bedside table and slowly scanned the room.

Searching for Sveta, who must be hiding somewhere, he spoke in a gentle voice — a striking contrast to his rigid expression.

“Sveta. I know you’re there.”

“……”

“I can see everything.”

There were only so many places she could hide.

This absurd game of hide-and-seek never lasted long. And yet Sveta insisted on hiding somewhere every time.

It was as though she were trying to run away from him.

Her hiding places changed every day. Sometimes it was under the bed, sometimes behind the large mirror and sometimes even under the table.

Aiden’s heavy gaze moved over each place where he had found her before.

At last, it settled on the window.

He walked towards the cream-colored curtains that brushed the floor.

Displeased with her choice of hiding place today, his brows slowly drew together.

“Sveta.”

“……”

She was curled up, trembling slightly, with her head buried between her knees.

Without hesitating, Aiden bent down and lifted her into his arms.

Her body, chilled by the late autumn wind that had blown in through the open window, felt cold to the touch.

He murmured softly.

“You’ll catch a cold at this rate.”

“That is not for the duke to concern himself with.”

After gently placing her on the bed, he draped a soft shawl over her shoulders. Sveta stubbornly shrugged it off.

After quietly clicking his tongue, he tried again, this time offering her a thick soup made from tenderly simmered potatoes and beef.

She turned her head away.

“Eat.”

“…No.”

He gently cupped her chin with one hand. With the slightest pressure, her face tilted back towards him.

When he slid his thumb between her parted lips, she instinctively opened her mouth.

Pressing lightly against her small, warm tongue, he carefully poured the thick soup inside.

Her pale blue eyes, which had been wandering unfocused through the air, slowly lifted to meet his.

Framed by her dark hair, they appeared as clear and cold as a winter sky.

He studied them in silence for a moment.

The faint sound of her swallowing pleased him.

Still holding her chin, he gently stroked her back.

“One more bite.”

“……”

Like a mother bird feeding her young, he offered her another spoonful.

This time, her lips parted weakly. But she spat it all back out again.

The thin liquid streamed from between her full lips and ran down her chin. Bits of meat and crushed potato fell carelessly onto her gown.

At the sight of the mess, his brows drew together involuntarily.

In deliberate defiance, Sveta lifted the bowl and emptied its contents onto the front of her own gown, never once breaking eye contact.

The white negligee was completely ruined.

“If you are trying to anger me, it is useless.”

“……”

“It does not affect me.”

He calmly put the tray down and pulled the bell cord.

It was hardly a command. Sveta had been refusing food for some time, so disorder during meals had become commonplace.

The maids waiting outside came in with a fresh meal and a large porcelain basin filled with lukewarm water.

“Leave.”

“Yes, Master.”

Once they were alone again, Aiden removed her dirty negligée.

He looked at her body in silence — it was familiar, yet no longer quite the same.

The languid autumn light fell softly on her bare skin.

After days of barely eating, her frame had grown noticeably thinner. And yet, even in her pallor, she remained painfully beautiful.

As though holding back anger, her shoulders trembled with each uneven breath. The subtle movement of her body struck him as unsettlingly sensual.

Even now, feeling desire stir within himself seemed absurd.

He let out a slow, steady breath.

“I will clean you quickly. Bear with the cold for a moment.”

To steady the crude thoughts rising within him, he focused solely on his hands.

“…I don’t want this. Stop.”

“I know.”

He pressed the damp cloth against her skin. As he wiped from her chest to her abdomen, he could see that the stab wound was healing well.

The blade that had struck her had been designed for piercing rather than slashing, resulting in a narrow wound.

A small mercy.

When his hand brushed her stomach, she suddenly found the strength to push his shoulder.

“Don’t touch me.”

He yielded at once, leaning his upper body back.

“As you wish.”

He spoke evenly.

Setting the cloth aside, he dressed her in a clean nightgown.

The faint residue of soup that he had failed to wipe away completely lingered in his mind like a splinter, but Aiden showed no sign of it.

“I will keep repeating this until you finish your meal. It would be wiser to simply eat.”

“I don’t want to.”

“What shall I do, then.”

“……”

“I am far more persistent than you think.”

“I said no!”

She let out a sharp cry.

Undeterred by her refusal, he brought the spoon forward again. This time, it held a soup made from mashed pumpkin.

She turned her face away once more, determined to the end.

Setting the spoon aside, Aiden seized her slender wrist.

He carefully pried open her clenched fingers and guided her hand to his cheek.

The moment her fingertips brushed the scratch there, they began to tremble.

“This… this…”

It was the wound she had inflicted days earlier when she had screamed that she hated him and struggled against him with all her might.

Sveta squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away once more. But this time, it was for a different reason.

Guilt, perhaps.

That was the kind of woman she was. Even when she wore an expression that claimed she despised him to the core, she would flinch at the thought of hurting him, even slightly.

It was cowardly of her, but Aiden wished she would hurt him more.

So, when she thrashed against him in resistance, he moved closer deliberately.

When her small foot struck his abdomen, she gasped in shock and recoiled immediately.

After that day, her open defiance faded. That was when she began retreating into corners and hiding away.

Aiden intentionally left the wound on his cheek untreated, allowing it to fester.

He hoped she would feel at least a little remorse.

He hoped she would hate him just a little less.

He tightened his grip around her wrist.

“It would be best to eat.”

As expected, she surrendered.

“I’ll eat. So let go.”

“You’ve chosen well.”

Tearing her gaze away from the newly forming scab on his cheek with difficulty, she began to swallow the soup slowly.

“I examined it today. It seems to be healing well. Your organs were not severely damaged, and there is no infection, Ivan said…”

“That’s unfair.”

Sveta whispered without warmth.

“In what way.”

“That wound on your face.”

“……”

“While I’m healing… you remain the same.”

It seemed she had noticed that he had been peeling at the scab deliberately, aggravating the injury.

‘Then what can I use to move her now.’

For a moment, he felt lost.

Then came self-loathing.

He despised himself for exploiting her feelings of guilt.

It was like sinking into a swamp.

Yet the place where he sank felt strangely warm.

What a rapturous abyss.

There was nothing normal about this.

It was only after he had nearly lost her forever and completely collapsed that Aiden finally understood.

This was not an impulse. Not possession.

This mad emotion that carved away at his heart, layer by layer—

It was love.

‘Since when?’

He searched for the moment when she had stolen his heart.

Was it when she watched him peel oranges one segment at a time to feed her, her small lips moving adorably? Or when he heard her whisper joyfully that she loved him?

‘Or was it something else…?’

Countless moments flashed through his mind.

There was no single turning point.

Perhaps that was why every moment felt like love.

In all those countless instants, those clear eyes that seemed to hold the sky had always been turned towards him.

Even the unsteady steps taken on fragile ankles always led to him.

‘And what did I give her in return?’

Among the countless memories he could recall, there had not been a single moment when he had returned even a small fragment of his heart to her.

Was that why?

Was that why she had tried to leave—even crossing the very water she loathed so deeply?

He could not even begin to guess what answer she might give.

And so he did not dare to ask why.

“Sveta.”

“……”

“Do you still…”

Click.

Sveta set the silver spoon down upon the empty bowl.

The small sound peeled another layer from his heart.

‘Do you love me.’

The broken question lodged in his throat.

As though uninterested in the unfinished words, Sveta turned onto her side.

“You said I had to finish it. I did. So now, leave.”

“…Your medicine.”

“I don’t want it.”

“……”

“Go, Duke. I’m tired…”

Her frail, sheer-muslin-covered back was turned towards him. Her black hair fell weakly over her shoulder blades.

Pale skin could be seen faintly through the strands.

He stared at it for a long moment.

With her back to him, she resembled a lonely island, torn away from a vast continent.

A crushing sense of loss overwhelmed him.

“Sveta.”

He called her name with quiet desperation.

No answer came.

***

It was when Beth stepped slowly into the servants’ hall.

A brown-haired maid stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at her.

“Beka! Why are you so late? I was the only one who got scolded because of you.”

“Sorry. The interview ran long. I couldn’t help it.”

“You think you’re the only one who has interviews?”

Amy shoved the basket she had set on the floor into Beth’s hands.

Beth had a fair idea of what it was, but she widened her eyes as if clueless.

“What’s this?”