A faint trace of irritation colored Sveta’s voice as she asked.

“And what reason could that possibly be?”

“I don’t know how to undo it.”

Sveta let out a long, weary sigh, lifted her teacup, and took a sip.

The bracelet slid further down her slender wrist.

He had commissioned the piece himself.

Against her snow-white skin, the pearls glowed with quiet elegance. With the bracelet encircling her wrist, she was even more beautiful than he had imagined.

To hide the flicker of satisfaction rising within him, Aiden furrowed his brow slightly and took a measured sip of the bitter tea.

With a soft clink, she placed her cup back on its saucer.

“You never intended to know how to remove it, did you?”

“And why do you think that?”

“Because you are that kind of man, Your Grace.”

“……”

“You would never even imagine that I might feel uncomfortable.”

She clearly had something to say, and there was strength in her voice, yet she kept her gaze lowered.

Her anger was almost endearing.

She was like a newborn puppy, barking fiercely and convinced that it could intimidate the world.

His voice softened as he answered her without resistance.

“I admit my imagination is lacking.”

“……”

“But it seems the one with the overly vivid imagination has overlooked something.”

“You cannot wound me with something so mild. So try harder.”

This was the extent of it—her words and actions, meant to hurt him.

In that moment, his gentle woman seemed unbearably lovely.

“I dislike you, Your Grace.”

“I know.”

His beloved no longer cared for oranges. She no longer favored sweet things.

And she disliked him. This was the conclusion Aiden had reached over the winter.

Leaving her to drown had been a foolish mistake, and he was willing to admit it.

But there would be opportunities to make amends.

He resolved to accept her sulking and anger without complaint. She had every right to feel that way.

Bracing himself for the sharp rejection he anticipated, Aiden reached across the table and gently took Sveta’s hand in his.

“Your Grace, the young lady of House Matwood has arrived.”

Dennis approached hesitantly and whispered, clearly mindful of Sveta’s presence.

“And?”

“She requests an audience.”

“Has she brought another letter?”

“Yes.”

“……”

Alyona Matwood. Her purpose in coming was obvious.

She claimed to be visiting Lady Noma and delivering a letter from her father.

In truth, she had come to see Aiden.

He was well aware of the position that the woman of House Matwood held within that small circle of society, and he was also familiar with the bold declarations she made so openly.

He tolerated her because he understood her ambition.

Alyona Matwood was so desperate that she would settle for his empty shell alone, and she could still be useful to him.

To him, she was nothing more than that.

Brushing this thought aside, Aiden turned to speak to his aide.

“It is an unarranged visit. Tell her to leave the letter and depart.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Dennis answered, but did not withdraw.

At Aiden’s slight nod of permission, the aide leaned closer and whispered again.

“A royal envoy sent by Her Majesty waits in the reception hall.”

“……”

Aiden took another slow sip of tea.

Although he was an envoy, he was still a nobleman.

Keeping someone bearing the Queen’s command waiting was insolent by any measure.

Dennis’s complexion grew increasingly pale. He began shifting anxiously from foot to foot.

When Aiden finally finished his tea, Sveta gently withdrew her hand from his grasp and spoke.

“You should go, Your Grace.”

“And you?”

“I haven’t finished my tea. And besides, there is someone watching me.”

Sveta glanced at the man standing on the edge of her vision.

Sir Pailin was still in view. He had once said that he preferred to conceal himself. The fact that he was now watching her openly could mean only one thing: it was the Duke’s command.

In other words, it was a warning not to try to escape again.

‘You said no one would confine me anymore. You said you would take me wherever I wished.’

Although spring had arrived, she was only allowed to take a stroll in the conservatory.

How much longer would she have to endure his deception?

Lowering her head, Sveta whispered.

“Please go.”

Without a word, Aiden set down his cup, pressed his lips firmly to her forehead, and rose.

The instant the Duke flicked his hand, Sir Pailin stepped forward.

“If anything happens, inform me at once.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Only after Aiden’s unhurried footsteps faded did Sveta lift her head. She rubbed at her forehead, still warm where he had touched her, then looked up at Pailin.

“Sir, could you remove this for me?”

She extended her wrist.

Pailin stared down at it for a long moment before answering hesitantly.

“I don’t know how to undo it.”

“If you look closely at this clasp here, you should be able to manage.”

Sveta rose so that he could remove the bracelet more easily.

“Yes… very well.”

His large hands fumbled with the gold fastening, trembling slightly.

They were unfamiliar hands, scarred and rough.

They should have had longer, straighter fingers.

‘Fairer skin. Neatly trimmed nails…’

A tremor ran through her as she realized something.

Without meaning to, she had been picturing Aiden’s hands instead of these rough ones.

He — Aiden — would be her first and her last.

That was why.

He was the only man etched into her very being.

Whatever she saw or felt, his presence clung to it like stubborn glue, like a brand seared into her flesh.

She resented him for having such power over her life.

Turning her head away, she refused to look at the bracelet around her wrist.

As her hair shifted with the movement, Pailin drew in a sharp breath.

In the growing silence, only the sound of his rough breathing could be heard.

“Milady.”

Perhaps unsettled by the tension, Pailin spoke first.

“Yes, Sir. Please, go on.”

“I am sorry… that I failed to save you before.”

“…You mean when I fell into the river.”

He nodded faintly.

“Why would you apologize?”

“Because I did not save you.”

“I do not know the code knights live by, but you tried to defy the Duke’s order to rescue me.”

His thick brown lashes trembled beneath his bold eyes.

His heavy fingers still struggled with the delicate clasp.

“……”

“If the Duke held a blade to your throat, I think you did all you could.”

Pailin cleared his throat awkwardly.

“So I do not resent you.”

“But I will never again stand by while you are in danger.”

The moment he spoke his vow, the tightly locked clasp gave way.

“It is done.”

“Thank you.”

Pailin handed Sveta the bracelet, the strands of which hung loose.

She took it and pressed her lips together.

Then, summoning all her strength, she threw it into the flowerbed.

***

The following day at around midday, there was a buzz of activity in the guest chamber in the east wing.

Hazel Strilland, who had been staying at the Duke’s estate since last autumn, was returning to Oitbrrn.

The maids, who had admired him, packed his belongings while looking sorrowful. Footmen carried the luggage to the carriage.

“Waaah!”

In one corner of the room, the duke’s young nephew started crying loudly.

The nurses tried to calm him down while the maids looked on with heavy sighs; they had grown fond of the baby. They had grown fond of the baby.

Even the footmen lifted the trunks with unusual vigor, their tightened movements betraying their regret. Their kind master was leaving.

Yet, in contrast to the bustle outside, the adjoining dressing room remained calm.

“So now there’s no one who doesn’t know the rumor that you’re utterly taken with your mistress?”

Hazel said this as he finished changing into his outer garments with the help of his attendant.

“It’s a rumor I started last spring.”

“But Aiden, things aren’t the same as they were last spring.”

He was pointing out that the year granted by Her Majesty was almost up.

This was not a welcome subject.

Aiden’s displeasure was evident from his silence.

“……”

“So—what are you going to do now?”

A breeze slipped through the slightly open window, disturbing Hazel’s golden hair.

Aiden tilted his head faintly and looked at his brother.

“Must I explain that to you?”

Hazel took the brown leather gloves handed to him by his attendant and muttered,

“Such manners.”

At Hazel’s gesture, the servants withdrew at once.

“Aiden, I like Baroness Luce.”

“You like any woman, regardless of who she is.”

“That’s true.”

“So what is it you’re trying to say?”

Pulling on his gloves and flexing his hands, Hazel continued in a playful tone.

“I truly like Baroness Luce. She’s extraordinarily beautiful, and her temperament—”

“……”

Aiden’s brows drew together slightly.

“Don’t misunderstand. My wife is my favorite.”

“Get to the point.”

“I thought I might give you a weapon to protect Baroness Luce.”

Before Aiden could ask what he meant, Hazel pulled a crumpled envelope out of his coat pocket.

Aiden accepted it carelessly.

Hazel offered a quiet warning.

“I trust you will know when the time comes to use it.”

“……”

The unusual gravity in his brother’s voice made Aiden narrow his eyes.

As he read the letter, his hand began to tremble—more and more violently with each line.