He had known for some time that Martiana’s attention was elsewhere.

He had sensed it from the moment they negotiated their divorce settlement. Even then, her mind had not truly been on the divorce. It had been focused on something else.

The six-month consideration period was no different. Siliar did not believe she had suggested it for his sake. More likely, it was tied to that same hidden concern.

People did not repeat their own words so insistently unless something was driving them beneath the surface.

‘What could it be?’

Whatever it was, he could not grasp it.

This uncertainty unsettled him.

Nevertheless, he chose to put it to one side for now.

Martiana was under no obligation to tell him everything.

No one was.

At that time, his priority was to bring his wife home.

But if it extended even to this…

‘What is it?’

He turned the matter over in his mind, but no clear answer surfaced.

Nothing came readily to him.

If he retraced Martiana’s recent actions—

“….”

Lost in thought, Siliar’s gaze wandered towards the annexe.

On further consideration, her assertion that she wanted to inspect the estate first seemed slightly strange.

According to the steward, she had put off visiting the other areas and come here first.

This dark annexe.

To see a guest.

Who was staying here again?

‘The Countess of Pumilum.’

And—

‘The child.’

He narrowed his eyes as he recalled the brief glimpse he had once caught of that small figure.

Something faint brushed the edge of his thoughts.

It was connected to what Martiana desired. But it was not yet clear enough to articulate.

‘The child…’

Siliar ran his tongue over his dry lips.

The mere mention of Martiana and the child made his chest ache.

For some reason, he felt as though he understood his wife’s feelings.

“Still, let’s return. It’s late. If you wish to see the guests, come another time.”

“But—”

“If you truly wish to meet them, I’ll inform the butler. He can notify you when they return.”

Wouldn’t that be enough?

That was the message conveyed by the slight tilt of his head.

Then he turned towards the main residence. As the head of the household, he believed that, if he spoke with enough firmness, she would follow him.

Truth be told, he didn’t want to leave her standing in the dark any longer. While they had been talking, night had fallen. It was now difficult to make out the features of the person in front of him.

What else could he do?

He urged her once more.

“Martiana.”

He called her name.

But even then, she did not take her eyes off the annexe.

Longing clung to her.

It was as though she had left something behind inside it.

‘Honestly…’

It did not seem she had come merely to see a child.

It was more desperate than that.

‘What is it?’

What are you hoping for?

His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched her.

***

“Martiana.”

She flinched when she heard a low voice call her name.

It was a reflex.

She knew what that tone meant.

She knew it would be better to leave.

There was no one here.

Lingering would only arouse suspicion.

As Siliar had said, it would be wiser to ask the steward to inform them when the guests returned.

‘I know that.’

Yet her feet would not move.

Her gaze kept drifting back towards the annexe.

It was because of the blackness.

The formless entity she had seen before Siliar arrived.

If not for that, she would have turned away by now.

The thought of a child having to stay in such an unpleasant place made it hard to leave.

“Then… when the guests return, may they stay in the main residence instead?”

She finally took a step as she asked.

Siliar arched a brow.

“The main residence?”

“Yes. It’s late. And the path here isn’t exactly even.”

Perhaps it is unseemly to accommodate guests so far away.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she offered an explanation.

Her true motive was the child, who could be her daughter. But she deliberately avoided saying the word. At some point, it had simply become the norm.

Neither of them mentioned the child unless it was absolutely necessary.

They didn’t even speak about related matters.

She did not know whether this was out of consideration or avoidance.

“Receiving guests is the lady of the house’s authority. Do as you wish.”

Siliar, who had been walking slightly ahead of her, answered briefly.

Then, without warning, he stopped and turned around.

“…What is it?”

Martiana blinked up at him, her large eyes wide.

It wasn’t just that he had turned.

It was what followed.

He extended his hand towards her.

Without a word.

“The path is uneven, you said.”

Ah.

So he meant for her to take it.

“It’s all right. If I need help, I’ll ask Tapnad.”

Martiana shook her head as she looked at the hand held out before her.

Siliar’s gaze shifted briefly to Tapnad behind her.

He did not withdraw his hand.

“So your name is Tapnad. Even so—take it.”

“No…”

“Take it. Your husband is right here. It would be strange to rely on your guard instead.”

He curled his fingers slightly, beckoning her over.

His voice was lower than before.

There was a faint edge to it.

Martiana’s brows drew together.

He was not wrong.

In a situation like this, anyone would take their husband’s hand over that of a guard.

In the past, she would have done so without hesitation.

She would have reached for him first.

But—

“….”

Could she?

They had almost divorced.

They were still in the process of doing so.

Whatever the current arrangement, they were a couple destined to part ways.

That was why she had insisted on minimizing physical contact.

She would accept his escort in public when appearances demanded it.

But this was private.

“You don’t have to. I’ve walked this far on my own.”

“It wasn’t this dark then. It is now.”

He stepped closer, crunching the gravel softly beneath his feet.

Martiana instinctively tried to take a step back. She might have succeeded, had something not brushed against her fingers first.

“…!”

Warmth.

The only warmth cutting through the cold night air.

He would never know how much that startled her.

‘No. You wouldn’t know.’

How long had it been since they had been this close?

Every time she was alone in her room.

Every time she passed him in silence.

She had longed for this warmth.

Whenever despair threatened to consume her, she yearned for it.

She had been lonely.

So very lonely.

Even after giving up on herself.

And yet, she had chosen to leave.

If they were eventually going to part ways, wouldn’t it be better not to become more entangled?

Distance first.

If they allowed themselves to become entangled again, it would be impossible to undo.

Though, deep down, she had never truly wanted the divorce.

‘Because I loved him…’

Or did she?

Once, her affection had overflowed.

But that brightness had faded long ago.

Even so, she did not wish to separate.

‘Is it attachment?’

Regret?

Perhaps it was simply the weight of years.

From the moment she took the name Vandyk, she had stood naturally at his side.

‘No matter which it is, I am still foolish.’

A quiet, self-mocking laugh escaped her.

Though to others, it might not have seemed so.

“Think of it as practice. We’ll have to grow used to it anyway.”

He had a point.

The contract had been signed.

For six months, they were to live as husband and wife.

It had been her own decision.

She had no grounds to complain.

Then—

‘Just for a moment.’

Would that really be so wrong?

As long as she did not lose her resolve at the very end, everything would be fine.

They had agreed that if either of them wanted to leave, they would go their separate ways.

Martiana bit her lip.

Before she could think any further, she closed her fingers around Siliar’s hand.

For a moment, she felt him flinch.

“If we’re going to count the contract strictly, then let’s say the two hours have already passed. The time we spent at the guardhouse alone exceeds that.”

“Rejected. It applies only from the moment of signing.”

“Then exclude everything before just now.”

“If you agree to have dinner with me, I might consider it.”

Siliar shrugged lightly, still holding her hand.

His voice had softened compared to earlier.

It betrayed his improved mood.

Martiana felt it too.

“Fine.”

So long as they set aside the fact that the dinner they had planned had already fallen through.