Aiden’s eyes turned cold.

He brushed Dalia’s hand away from his arm.

It had been a long time since he had let anyone touch him. The contact was revolting. A chilling sensation crawled across his skin, as though something had scraped against it. He slowly released a breath.

“…Your Grace?”

He shot Dalia a sharp look. Their eyes met.

Visibly shrinking under his gaze, Sveta’s stepmother lifted a hand to her forehead, as though feeling dizzy. It was a transparent act.

“Aiden, just get in.”

“……”

Sveta tugged at him, urging him forward. She bit her lower lip, her anxiety plainly written across her face.

‘Is she afraid of her stepmother?’

According to Pailin’s report, Dalia had tried to hit Sveta last year. She grabbed Sveta and raised her hand as though she was about to slap her.

How dare she touch his woman!

Yes, something like that had happened.

At the time, he had dismissed it as insignificant. Yet the memory had settled deep within him, like sediment at the bottom of still water. No matter how hard he tried, he could not forget it.

Her behavior was far too reminiscent of his own mother’s.

Sveta, who had not even resisted, had only seemed frustrating and weak to him at the time. That was what he had believed.

The recollection made his stomach twist.

Looking back now, he realized he had been far crueler than he had thought. Fragments of memory — of the cold, merciless way he had treated her — cut into him, leaving a heavy, lingering ache behind.

His gaze hardened further as he looked at Dalia.

Sensing the shift in the air, Dalia instinctively drew her shoulders inwards.

He stared at her with n*ked hostility, his face flashing with contempt at her pitiful display.

Suddenly, a small white hand appeared and gently tugged at the hem of his coat, guiding him into the carriage.

“Speak with your mother after we return.”

“……”

“Aiden.”

Sveta forced a smile onto her face.

He nodded slightly and stepped into the carriage without protest. Suppressing his rising anger, he spoke in a flat, measured tone.

“We will speak upon my return, Lady Luce.”

“S-Should we? Then, Your Grace, may your journey be sa—”

Before Dalia had finished speaking, the carriage door closed.

Moments later, the four-horse carriage sped past the main gate of the ducal estate.

***

Levizan bordered the eastern gateway of Aetania.

To the north, rocky mountains loomed overhead, with the vast lands of Prisada and Baiton stretching beyond them.

Before the Empire fell, Levizan and Baiten were one city.

This is why Levizan’s buildings were constructed in the dark and imposing northern Prisadan style.

Above the endless grey fortress walls, golden banners bearing the Strilland crest fluttered in the breeze.

This unfamiliar sight made Sveta’s stomach churn.

‘It’s… so grand.’

She stared at the sharp spires rising beyond the window. The pale, crisp late-autumn sun slid down the steep rooftops in slanting rays.

The carriage passed through the gates and finally stopped.

Aiden fastened her cloak securely around her shoulders.

“It will be quite cold here for you.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to drink plenty of warm tea.”

“You should.”

He bent his arm and offered it to her.

She placed her hand lightly on his arm and stepped down from the carriage.

To the right, the servants stood in a neat line and bowed in perfect unison.

To the left, the knights greeted their lord with disciplined precision. They had a grave intensity about them that set them apart from the knights of Renan or southern Czernok.

Overwhelmed by their imposing presence, Sveta lifted her chin ever so slightly.

As if to welcome their master home, a strong westerly wind swept across the grounds. Her loose black hair lashed wildly around her and her brown cloak billowed behind her.

‘If I ever have to run away, I shouldn’t wear a cloak.’

It is better to endure the cold than to be weighed down by something cumbersome.

After looking around carefully, Sveta and Aiden entered the castle.

Inside, everything was immaculately ordered, yet there was an underlying tension in the air.

“Your Grace, preparations for the meeting are complete. They are all waiting.”

An aide who had followed behind spoke in a low voice. Aiden raised one hand, halting the aide’s movement.

“Your Grace.”

“…I will be there shortly.”

After speaking briefly, Aiden led Sveta to the bedroom they would share during their stay.

“We likely won’t see each other again until afternoon. What will you do until then?”

“I want to go to the stables and check if Dongle arrived safely.”

“You care for that horse so much?”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

Was he truly curious?

When Sveta hesitated, parting her lips but not answering, Aiden tilted his head slightly, as though he was genuinely eager to hear the answer.

“You may not have realized it, Duke, but no one ever spoke to me. Dongle was my only friend.”

“……”

Aiden fell silent for a moment.

“…After the hunting festival ends, I will teach you how to ride.”

He shifted the topic smoothly, lifting the corner of his mouth in a faint, ambiguous smile.

“Yes, Duke.”

After gently brushing his woman’s cheek, Aiden pulled on his gloves and left the bedroom.

***

The moment Aiden left the bedroom, Sveta stepped out as well. Beneath her cloak, she gripped the strap of the bag slung across her body tightly.

“Is there somewhere you wish to go?”

Pailin, who had been following behind, asked.

They were in unfamiliar territory. If there was somewhere she wanted to see, he likely meant to escort her.

“I’d like to go to the stables. Would you guide me?”

“Yes.”

Pailin, who usually walked a step behind her, moved slightly ahead this time. That was fortunate. This allowed her to observe her surroundings without worrying about his gaze.

The way out was straightforward. When they reached the end of the wide corridor, Sveta spoke.

“I heard His Grace will be quite busy for about three days. So the hunting festival will be held next week.”

“Yes, that is correct.”

It matched what Mariner, the young viscount, had quietly told her beforehand.

Two weeks ahead…

Henrik had said he would wait for her at the border outpost for two weeks. She had to escape before then.

“Sir. When the hunting festival begins, will I also go into the forest?”

“No. It is customary for the ladies to remain in separate tents prepared for them.”

“…I see.”

But would it be possible to pass through a forest full of armed men without being noticed?

She had a feeling that even slipping out of the tents would be difficult.

It would be better to run within the next three days, then.

Sveta tightened her grip on her bag strap.

‘Straight out from the bedroom. Down the stairs and straight again. Then turn left and continue straight.’

As she retraced her steps, she reached the stables.

They were not far away. She had feared they might be as far away as those at the ducal estate, but she knew that if she ran, she could get there quickly.

“Step aside.”

At Pailin’s command, the stablemaster and workers bowed and cleared the area.

“I will inspect the interior.”

“…All right.”

While Pailin went inside to inspect the stable, Sveta remained outside.

Dry leaves rustled and scraped across the ground in the wind. She wandered aimlessly, stepping over the leaves as they crunched softly beneath her feet.

Suddenly, she felt something hard nudge the tip of her foot.

An arrow.

She bent down and picked it up.

Fitted with vivid red tail feathers, the exceptional craftsmanship of the arrow was clear at a single glance.

As her fingers brushed lightly over the smooth feathers, Pailin emerged from the stable.

“That arrow belongs to the former duke.”

“……”

Sveta dropped it without realizing. The memory of the old duke’s piercing gaze flashed before her eyes.

At the same time, she remembered something she had forgotten: the former duke must be somewhere in the castle, too.

She was struck by fear.

‘I need to escape as quickly as possible.’

Before the former duke noticed her. And while Aiden was too busy to pay attention to her.

‘Within three days. No—tomorrow.’

The thought came to her impulsively.

She stared at the ground. The vivid red feathers looked as though they had been dipped in blood. Seeing them confirmed that fleeing as soon as possible was the right choice.

No one would expect her to disappear the moment she arrived.

With a major event approaching, the castle was already in disarray. It was the perfect time.

‘I brought them just in case.’

She was glad she had packed clothes and jewelry.

Fixing her gaze on Pailin, she said.

“It seems the former duke stopped by briefly.”

Pailin picked up the arrow and replied casually.

“Perhaps.”

Stepping closer to him, Sveta forced her unsteady, pulsing breath under control.

As the distance between them shortened, he took an instinctive step back.

“Sir. Please wait outside.”

“The interior is wider than the stables at the ducal estate. There are also two entrances. It would be more efficient for me to protect you from inside.”

“Do you wish to hear me talking to my horse?”

“…Pardon?”

He blinked, clearly taken aback.

“It would look rather ridiculous. I would prefer if you waited outside.”

“…Very well.”

She was so grateful for the readiness with which he complied that it ached her chest.

She had the uneasy feeling that she would never meet someone who cared for her this way again.

Sincerely, she said.

“Thank you, sir.”

***

Charles Strilland frowned.

As soon as he sensed Pailin approaching the stables, he swiftly hid near the back entrance.

He didn’t need to see who Pailin had brought with him.

His son’s plaything. A lowborn creature daring to taint the name of the Strillands.

When he had attacked that harlot before, Aiden’s response had been firmer than expected.

‘He was never a child who so resolutely defied his father.’

The shock of his son ignoring his words entirely still lingered.

‘He is thoroughly bewitched.’

Suddenly, the memory of Aiden’s birth mother surfaced in his mind. Charles ground his teeth.

“Charlotte Lowell.”

He had never forgiven the wife who had fallen in love with a mere knight and borne an illegitimate child.

“I had hoped he would not resemble his mother. What is love, after all?”

Was love merely a base desire?

He could not allow his son to follow a misguided path.

He would not let the bloodline of Strilland be tainted again.

Letting out a deep breath, Charles scanned the spot where his son’s mistress had stood.

Not far from Aiden’s black stallion stood a sleek brown horse.

Even the sight of his son’s fine steed standing beside the lowborn woman’s horse displeased him.

“Where did they bring that wretched beast from…”

He clicked his tongue softly and continued to survey the area.

Then his gaze halted on a distant corner.

The former duke’s eyes narrowed as he took in the scene before him.