Sveta stared blankly at the long scratch running across the left side of Aiden’s face.

Sensing her gaze, he raised a hand to touch his cheek.

With unfocused eyes, she relived what had happened a few days earlier.

“The child did not survive.”

That single sentence was etched onto her chest in an instant, dragging her down into the cold, dark depths of a river.

How could that happen?

How could something so precious vanish so quickly?

Sveta could not comprehend it.

It felt as though her heart were melting away at an agonizingly slow pace.

If it hurt this much, how was it possible not to die?

How could she still breathe? How could she still shed tears?

How could this be possible when the pain was so unbearable?

She beat at her chest and wept. She wept so bitterly that she did not even realize her body was bruising.

“Sveta, it’s all right. So please—”

It was not all right.

Despite knowing nothing, he dared to claim that it was all right. The words were repulsive.

Sveta struggled.

Her nails, ragged from biting them out of nervousness, raked across Aiden’s cheek. For a moment, he froze.

Then he leaned closer, as if inviting her to strike again.

In that instant, Sveta saw Jace Gould’s face — the man who had once hit her.

‘So I am capable of hitting someone.’

‘I was behaving just like the person I despise.’

This realization pulled her back into the icy water.

All she could do now was curl up and sob quietly.

Perhaps even that had become too much for her.

Meanwhile, Aiden began to give her a sleeping draught.

‘That’s right. That’s when I started taking the medicine….’

Perhaps it was the lingering effect of the drug, but her mind felt empty, as though it had been wiped clean. To chase away the encroaching thoughts, Sveta blinked rapidly.

Meanwhile, Aiden traced the line of his wound with his fingers.

She hated him.

She hated the wound on his cheek.

She did not want to look at that loathsome sight any longer.

Turning onto her side, Sveta whispered.

“Put medicine on your wound, Your Grace.”

“……”

“I don’t want to see it. That wound.”

“If that is what you wish.”

He answered in a voice so indulgent it sounded as though he would grant her anything.

Without another word, she pulled the blanket over her head.

***

The next day at noon, hidden behind a pillar, Beth watched the servants carrying items into Sveta’s bedroom.

First came a long dining table, followed by resplendent golden candlesticks and lavish floral arrangements.

Then the kitchen staff brought in dish after dish.

‘What on earth is going on?’

She could not make sense of it.

The head maid had offered no explanation regarding Sveta’s condition, and the laundry maids were equally unhelpful. The only conclusion Beth could draw was that Sveta must be well enough, given the constant stream of linens being sent down for washing.

‘If she’s regained her senses, she should be calling for me… So why isn’t she?’

What if Sveta had noticed something?

Beth felt a chill of unease slice deep into her chest.

She clenched her apron so tightly that it seemed as though it would tear. Her fingertips trembled.

Something was going wrong.

‘I was too hasty that day. If I wanted to finish it properly, I should have fled with her.’

Beth forced herself to remember that afternoon, when Sveta had attempted to escape and Lady Noma had fallen from the window.

It had been dark all day.

Even at noon.

The western wing, which was already half-deserted, had felt even more ominous in that gloom.

Tap, tap.

The sharp sound of a fan striking a palm drifted out through the wide-open window.

Lady Noma, who had been gazing silently down at the garden, turned around. Before she could fully register her presence, Beth swiftly lowered her head.

“I told the boatman to push her into the water, and I made sure he received the payment you provided. As planned, the young lady has just left the ducal estate.”

“…Is that so?”

“Yes. I delivered everything exactly as instructed.”

For a moment, a look of triumph flickered across Lady Noma’s face. She quickly composed herself and adopted a solemn expression, but to Beth, this merely looked foolish.

Did she really think drowning would be enough?

‘It should have been done more thoroughly.’

Beth recalled the moment she had finalized the task—the time she conveyed “Lady Noma’s words” to the boatman.

“Lady Noma ordered that you stab her in the stomach with this dagger.”

“She must have despised her greatly.”

“She wanted certainty.”

“As long as I follow instructions, that’s all that matters to me. Very well.”

“Throw the dagger into the river afterward.”

“…It looks expensive.”

“Cheaper than a life.”

If he kept the dagger, they could be traced back to it. They needed to erase all traces of it. The boatman seemed to understand, nodding in agreement.

Tap, tap.

The sound of Lady Noma striking her fan against her palm pulled Beth out of her reverie.

She lifted her head slightly.

A peculiar smile lingered at the corners of Lady Noma’s wrinkled eyes.

Beth knew that expression well.

It was a smile she often wore herself.

“What did you just say?”

“I told him everything exactly as you instructed, Lady Noma.”

“ ‘As I instructed’? I gave you no such instructions. What are you talking about?”

A chill shot up her spine in an instant.

‘D*mn it. I should’ve known.’

To a noblewoman who had conspired to kill her son’s mistress and illegitimate child, the life of a mere maid meant nothing.

For a fleeting second, Beth considered how this old woman intended to kill her.

‘With wrists that slender, she hasn’t a trace of strength. There’s no way she could wield a blade…’

As her thoughts spun in rapid calculation, Lady Noma flicked her fan.

A signal to come closer.

When Beth stepped forward, Lady Noma held out a small vial.

“You know far too much. Don’t you?”

“Pardon? I know nothing, Lady Noma. I saw nothing.”

“……”

“And I’ve never even been here.”

She denied everything outright.

Lady Noma smiled benevolently, as though soothing a child.

“I know you do. Why else would I summon you during the guard’s shift change?”

“……”

“Drink it. The effect will begin within the hour. Once you’ve taken it, go straight to your bed and lie down.”

“What… is it?”

Her lips, painted a vivid red, curved into a graceful smile. In a voice refined and almost tender, Lady Noma whispered,

“It will make you comfortable.”

“What if someone sees me on the way back after I drink it?”

“Do not worry. No one will.”

“…Is that so?”

There were no witnesses.

Besides, this old woman wouldn’t be leaving the western wing anyway.

Avoiding the danger right in front of her didn’t seem especially difficult.

Beth accepted the vial without resistance, allowing her hand to tremble slightly as though she were afraid.

“It’s all right. There will be no pain.”

The coaxing tone was low and dignified.

Beth gave the vial a small shake.

At that moment, a gust of wind swelled the curtains by the window. She turned her head instinctively.

“It’s useless. There’s no one behind you. Even if you scream, no one will hear. You would do well not to resist.”

“Resist…?”

“It is medicine given for your sake. Drink.”

Lady Noma lowered the corners of her eyes in feigned pity, but Beth saw what flickered within them.

Pleasure.

The satisfaction of achieving her aim. The relief of finally discarding a slave she had used.

‘How disgusting.’

The moment Lady Noma looked down at her, Beth knew what she had to do.

A low chuckle escaped her lips.

It began as a faint giggle and escalated into loud, ringing laughter.

As the sound grew louder, Lady Noma’s face hardened immediately.

“Are you… laughing?”

“How naïve you are. How many maids have you killed so far? Hmm?”

“…What did you say?”

Startled, Lady Noma began to step backward.

“Not a chance.”

Beth lunged forward like a wolf. Taking care not to leave any marks on her collar, she pushed Lady Noma towards the window.

After that, it was almost effortless.

Lady Noma struggled briefly on the windowsill before falling to the ground below.

There wasn’t even a groan.

She must have died instantly.

Stepping away from the window, Beth went straight to the dressing table.

Her blue eyes, sharp and restless, fixed on a single object.

“…I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

She pocketed the perfume bottle with the rose-shaped stopper and left the western wing at her leisure.

***

At the butler’s command, Sveta’s bedroom was transformed into a banquet hall in the blink of an eye.

In the center of the room, a long dining table was draped with a white tablecloth that shimmered softly in the light. Pink roses from the conservatory had been carefully arranged across its surface, filling the air with their delicate fragrance.

Steam rose from bowls of perfectly whipped mashed potatoes, and large, round oranges displayed on silver platters gleamed invitingly.

One dish after another was brought in, each one adding to the quiet splendor of the feast.

Finally, a simply roasted chicken, seasoned as lightly as possible, was placed in the center of the table to complete it.

“Everything has been prepared exactly as you instructed, Master.”

The butler stood with his hands respectfully clasped together, waiting for the duke to take his seat.

The impeccably dressed Duke guided his mistress, still wearing her night robe, to sit beside him.

“There is no need to attend us.”

In a calm voice, he dismissed the waiting servants.

They withdrew at once, retreating like the ebb of the tide.

“You didn’t have to prepare so much.”

She spoke while staring at the closed door.

“I dine like this every day.”

“……”

“But if you wish, I will have it cleared away.”

“……”

Instead of answering, she let out a deep sigh.

As if it made no difference to her, she slowly lifted a spoonful of soup to her lips.

The meal continued in near silence, broken only by the faint clinking of cutlery.

After finishing half of her soup and slowly chewing the soft bread he had given her, she put down her fork, seemingly satisfied.

“I’m finished. I know it’s improper, but I’ll take my leave—”

He caught her retreating wrist and, without moving his head, turned his eyes toward her.

“You have not eaten enough.”

“I’m full.”

“Sit.”

At the low command, Sveta sank back into her seat, her face pale.

“Eat.”

Aiden peeled an orange and carefully separated a segment before offering it to her.

Unlike before, it was whole and uncrushed.

“…No. I don’t want it anymore.”

“All of a sudden?”

She spoke stubbornly, as though insisting that at least her heart was beyond his control.

“Yes. All of a sudden.”

As if staging a quiet protest, Sveta turned her head away sharply. Her smooth hair swayed softly as she moved.

Aiden’s gaze fixed on the cascade of black hair spilling over her white nightdress.

Then, abruptly, he asked.

“Why did you dye it black?”