She wanted to test him.

The influence he claimed she held over him. His restraint.

And yet, at the same time, a part of her had wanted him to cross that final boundary and pull her into his arms.

To say she felt no desire at all would have been a lie. His body was magnificent. They had fit together countless times before; beneath him, she knew she would have lost herself, her voice breaking in helpless cries.

‘And I would have felt wretched…’

If that had happened, perhaps she would never give him her heart again.

‘To wish for humiliation—what a twisted heart.’

Sveta let out a silent, self-mocking sigh.

She had spent her whole life yearning for attention and affection. There was a time when she was so lonely that she clutched a simple stone and wept through the night.

Despite her sharp refusals, each time Aiden approached her, she felt it drawing nearer. One day, the wall she had built around her heart would crumble.

Ultimately, his kindness would become her shackles, preventing her from breaking free.

That was why she wanted him to be cruel.

So she could hate him without restraint.

So she could leave without regret.

At the doorway, Aiden turned to look at her one last time. The strained breath of a man barely holding himself together lingered in the still air.

Then, quietly, the door between the two bedrooms closed without a sound.

“Your claim that I can do anything is incorrect.”

The voice that had held back his desire sounded unbearably rough.

Recalling the harsh rhythm of his breathing near her ear, Sveta smiled faintly at the ceiling.

In that moment, she realized something.

He was right.

It was Aiden Strilland who was being swayed by her.

***

After crossing the threshold, Aiden walked across the bedroom at a pace neither hurried nor slow.

He flung open the large window near the bed and drew in a deep breath. A low murmur slipped from his lips.

“What must I do for you to open your heart…?”

The cool night breeze carried the scent of roses deep into his lungs. He closed his eyes. At some point, whenever he thought of her, this fragrance came to him first.

No doubt because he had followed her endlessly through the gardens, breathing it in.

“Sveta.”

Sveta, Sveta.

He pronounced her name again and again, like a sigh.

“Ha…”

Then Aiden laughed bitterly at himself.

He felt utterly rejected, yet the tight, burning heat inside him showed no sign of fading.

His hand drifted downwards and his grip tightened. A sharp sensation flared at his navel and slowly climbed upwards until it reached the crown of his head.

The sensation was so familiar that it bordered on exhaustion. Countless nights had passed like this, thinking only of her.

The sensation washed over him like waves brushing against his feet.

Once spent, the pleasure dissolved into nothing, scattering like white foam.

Afterwards, a bitterness always remained, as though he had held a grain of salt beneath his tongue.

Despite knowing exactly how it would end, he did not stop.

“…”

His mouth went dry. He quickly wetted his lower lip and tilted his chin upwards. The prominent line of his throat moved visibly.

Gripping the windowsill with one hand, he panted. His palm felt slick. At the same time, emptiness seeped into him like smoke.

When the heat that had seized his body finally ebbed, he muttered again.

“What in the world would she like?”

He thought about the extravagant gifts that other libertines gave their mistresses.

Expensive dresses. Jewelry of every kind.

Such things meant nothing to her.

“Perhaps… I should buy her a townhouse.”

He sighed almost immediately.

Even if he gave her a house, she would probably just shut herself away in her bedroom. It would only provide her with another place to hide.

A townhouse would not suffice.

‘Then what on earth should I give her?’

He did not know. Now, he could not even tell what she liked.

Aiden listed the things she favored.

“Mad horses. Bitter tea.”

At first glance, she seemed to be a woman with rather unusual tastes.

She didn’t embroider, despite the fact that it was said to be a favorite pastime of women. She didn’t read novels. She did not enjoy writing letters. She didn’t dance either.

He knew why.

She had never been taught to embroider. She had no one to write letters to. And her ankle hurt.

‘Even so… is there nothing she desires?’

When the thought reached him, he pressed a hand to his forehead and let out a hollow laugh. It dissolved into the wretched darkness of the night.

“Ha… ha…”

Of course she must have wanted something.

It was just that she didn’t want anything from him.

Without even washing his hands, he threw off his robe and collapsed onto the bed.

What a sight he was! Pathetic.

Truly beyond pitiful.

A week after the May Festival ended, the Duke of Strilland visited Rene Pedy’s dress shop with his mistress.

The moment they stepped inside, Renée locked the doors and drew the curtains.

“The preparations.”

“Yes, Your Grace. As instructed in advance, everything has been prepared.”

At Rene’s gesture, the attendants brought out costly imported dresses and presented them to the Duke’s mistress.

“It seemed the young lady had taken note of the styles currently in fashion in Prisadin, so I prepared dresses of a similar design this time as well.”

“…”

The mistress’s sky-blue eyes slowly scanned the rows of sample gowns.

The duke bent his head towards her and asked her something quietly. Sometimes she shook her head; at others, she lightly grasped his thick arm and nodded slightly.

‘Is it because she dyed her hair black? Or because she’s grown so thin…?’

The Duke’s mistress looked somehow fragile. And yet the faint smile curving her lips carried a languid air.

It was strange. Only a year ago, had she not been vibrant, like a flower newly in bloom?

‘Could the rumor be true—that she ran away and was brought back?’

Come to think of it, the Duke did seem restless.

Of course, his atmosphere was as noble and rigid as ever. But Rene’s sharp eye did not miss the subtle change.

‘Even with that expressionless face, it’s obvious he treasures her…’

While Rene pondered, the Duke persistently sought his mistress’s opinion.

When she reluctantly chose one, he flicked his finger.

“She’ll take this dress.”

She certainly had a good eye. She had chosen the most expensive one.

Suppressing the laugh that threatened to escape, Rene replaced it with a courteous smile and nodded.

“Very well. We’ll prepare it accordingly.”

“…”

“It seems you’ve grown slimmer since last time. It may be best to take your measurements again.”

“Do so.”

The duke’s mistress followed an attendant through the screen. His gaze followed her.

The moment she disappeared from view, the gentle air that had filled the room vanished.

The heavy silence that settled over them made Rene feel as though she could not breathe.

Fearing that she might turn to stone if she remained still, she forced herself to speak.

“Your Grace, we have prepared the herbal tea and light refreshments you requested in advance.”

“…”

“As soon as her measurements are complete, we will escort her to the lounge.”

“…”

“We will also select matching accessories and shoes and deliver them together with the finished dress.”

He did not answer. The only acknowledgement he offered was a slight nod.

Rene swallowed dryly. Nevertheless, curiosity surged within her like a torrent.

Carefully, she stole a glance at him.

He was as handsome as ever. While his mistress seemed to be wasting away, he appeared almost radiant.

‘Then again, what hardships could he possibly have? A beautiful mistress and a distinguished fiancée as well. A man who holds everything in both hands.’

The ones who suffered would be the women.

Alyona Matwood—‘magnificently mad,’ as some whispered—her unrequited love was common gossip across all of Renan.

‘No… perhaps not.’

As Rene recalled Alyona’s piercing, ash-grey eyes, a chill ran down her arms and she changed her mind.

Yes, Sveta Luce was indeed the most pitiful one.

How could she possibly endure that dreadful young lady from House Matwood?

Rene shuddered, remembering Alyona’s exacting demands.

“As lavish as possible, but not ostentatious. More dignified than anyone, yet not authoritarian.”

Just thinking of those impossible instructions made her sigh.

“Ah…”

It was only then that Rene realized the duke was standing beside her. Worried that he might misinterpret her sigh, she hastily explained

“As you may have heard, the dress commissioned by House Matwood has an exceptionally elaborate design. Nevertheless, we will ensure there are no complications. So…”

“…”

“You need not worry, Your Grace.”

Again, no reply. In a way, that was a relief.

‘Better this than a man who interrogates every detail.’

It had only been a few days since Lady Matwood had summoned her to commission a gown. What a commotion she had caused!

In contrast, the duke seemed to show little interest in his fiancée. The fact that he had brought his mistress here spoke volumes in itself.

To purchase a gown for his mistress in the same shop where his fiancée’s dress had been commissioned?

‘The rumor will surely spread through society.’

He was mercilessly indifferent.

‘Or perhaps… there is another meaning behind it.’

Rene found it difficult to grasp the Duke’s true intentions. But when had it ever been easy to understand the inner thoughts of lofty nobles?

‘At times like this, remember your original purpose. Your original purpose…’

As Rene calculated the sum she would earn from this commission and carefully dulled the curiosity rising in her eyes—

“You’ve done well. This way, my lady.”

The voice of the man escorting the duke’s mistress to the lounge could be heard drifting from behind the screen.

At that moment, the Duke strode forward.

His tall frame appeared above the partition. He was a truly towering figure. He led his mistress into the room and disappeared inside.

Rene and the attendants all let out quiet breaths.

“The atmosphere… it was intense, wasn’t it?”

“Exactly. I couldn’t even tell who the real master was.”

Everyone saw it the same way.

From the murmurs of the attendants, Rene was certain that the person walking on the edge had been the Duke.

Just as she finished that thought, a loud commotion erupted outside.

“Let me in! Do you know who I am?”

Rene parted the curtain slightly and caught sight of the source of the disturbance. She went pale as she did so.

It was Alyona Matwood, causing a commotion at the entrance and holding onto a servant from the ducal household.