In the pitch darkness, fragments of the past flickered before my eyes.

I was eighteen, shortly after D’Hiver had returned.

My room was filled with fresh, violet-colored flowers; there were so many that there was barely space to walk.

There were tiny violets, bellflowers and limonium, as well as autumn’s golden blooms and my mother’s lupines.

I drew in a deep breath, filling my lungs with their sweet scent.

This radiant floral paradise had been a gift from D’Hiver.

After his return, he devoted himself entirely to me.

Cradled in the arms that had once saved me, I began to gradually forget the horrors of my childhood.

He gave me everything I had ever longed for, both in word and deed.

There was a day, I stood before the mirror, wearing the yellow dress he had given me.

As always, he appeared without a sound, his lips brushing close to my ear.

“It suits you. Just as I thought.”

D’hiver’s hand moved.

Around my bare neck, he fastened a brilliant necklace.

“Dressed up so beautifully… where are you planning to go?”

I touched the sudden weight at my throat.

Though he must have meant it as a joke, I smiled brightly.

“To see Honoré.”

“Honoré?”

He echoed the name.

Honoré was the messenger who had once come, about a year ago, to deliver news of D’hiver—and now, my one and only friend.

“Yes. Today, I was going to ask how to deal with Blanc.”

I glanced briefly at Blanc, who was grooming himself in the corner.

Perhaps he sensed my gaze.

He raised his sharp, golden eyes and flicked his tail arrogantly, as if challenging me.

I clenched my fist.

“Even yesterday, the moment Blanc saw Honoré, he jumped straight into his arms. I’m the one who raised him since he was a kitten—so why does he like Honoré more? It’s unfair.”

“Violette.”

At my grumbling, D’hiver’s eyes softened with a gentle smile.

“You’ve been talking about Honoré a lot lately.”

“Have I?”

“Yes.”

“If I’ve been going on too much, I’m sorry. It’s probably not very interesting… but… those are the only things I really have to talk about.”

I let out a faint, bitter smile.

“He’s my only friend.”

“A friend… I see. Well, having a friend is a good thing.”

There was something odd about the way he said it, but his voice and gaze were still gentle.

Like a fool, I clung to that warmth and murmured,

“Thank you.”

“Hm? For what?”

“You’re the one who sent Honoré to me, D’hiver. He’s a friend I have because of you. Blanc, Suki… even the life I’m living now… I feel like I’ll always have to be grateful to you.”

You gave someone who had only ever been hated a new life.

The people of this country called him a monster, but to me, he was my one and only savior.

D’Hiver slowly leaned in and pressed his forehead against mine.

“Violette.”

“Yes.”

“If you wish it, I would gladly give you this entire world… after all, I exist for you.”

His crimson eyes, so close, resembled the sun.

The warmth that poured over me was just as it had been in my memories—unchanged, comforting.

“So you don’t have to feel that way. What you have now is only natural… and nothing extraordinary.”

Our gazes met, then slipped away beneath lowered lids.

For no reason at all, my cheeks flushed red—matching the color of his eyes.

“Do you remember the day we first met?”

“Of course.”

“If it hadn’t been for you, D’hiver… I wouldn’t be alive right now. Just one thing you said that day… kept me alive.”

Even now, if I closed my eyes, that moment was vivid.

Your voice, promising to become my love—my reason to live.

“So I’m always grateful to you.”

D’Hiver’s expression stiffened for a moment.

Why?

What had made him look like that?

Before I could work it out, he placed his hand against my cheek.

His fingers wrapped around it carefully, moving with gentle softness.

His thumb brushed lightly over my lips.

His gaze, filled with quiet, aching longing, held me.

Why had my heart trembled so much in that moment?

Why had it suddenly begun to pound so loudly, overwhelming all my senses?

“…Ah.”

Letting out a faint, incomprehensible sound, D’hiver suddenly pulled away.

The hand that had been caressing my cheek clenched tightly.

Blood dripped from it in slow droplets.

“W-What’s wrong?”

My voice trembled with alarm—it was only natural.

And then—

“Meow—!”

Blanc, who had somehow managed to get closer, let out a sharp cry.

He shot D’Hiver a narrow, displeased glance before striding out of the room with elegant indifference.

It seemed he had bitten him.

As he watched Blanc’s retreating figure, D’Hiver let out a small, incredulous laugh.

***

“Honoré.”

“You’re here?”

At my call, Honoré—who had been reading atop a large tree—leapt down to the ground.

The movement was agile but of course, it startled me.

“W-What if you got hurt doing that?”

“This is nothing.”

Honoré stood before me as if it were nothing at all, a gentle smile on his face.

“You’re late today. I was so bored I thought I’d die.”

“D’hiver came by. What were you reading today?”

He held out the book he had been reading.

‘Apology of Socrates.’

Just looking at the title made my head ache.

“…You’re reading something difficult again. Is it fun?”

“I just read because there’s nothing else to do. This place is unbearably dull.”

I couldn’t help but agree.

D’Hiver’s castle had everything, yet it was endlessly monotonous.

Even a pleasant melody becomes tiresome if it is repeated day after day.

I could tell you exactly which shelf in the library held which book.

“I don’t know how you live here. I’d die of boredom.”

“And yet you’re doing just fine.”

“I can come and go as I please. You’re the one who’s trapped here…”

Even so, would Honoré believe me if I told him that I was happier now, living as a Psyche, than I had ever been at home?

He stopped mid-sentence and stared at me.

“What is it?”

“Today… you look really beautiful. It suits you. I’ve never seen that dress before.”

“Oh, D’hiver gave it to me.”

Without thinking, I smoothed the fabric of my dress.

The silk felt as though it would melt beneath my fingertips—still unfamiliar, as if it wasn’t truly mine.

“It’s my first time… receiving something like this.”

My voice softened to a whisper, and my cheeks were probably flushed.

After blinking a couple of times, Honoré asked,

“Are you happy?”

“Yes. Very.”

For a brief moment, his lips seemed to curl slightly.

I tilted my head.

“What is it?”

“If I gave you something, would you be that happy too?”

“Of course.”

The hem of my dress fluttered lightly in the breeze.

For some reason, my face felt even hotter, and I lowered my gaze slightly.

“But… I don’t think I’d be this happy. It’s the first time anyone has ever given me something like this.”

“Oh? If I’d known, I would’ve given you something before Duke Keith did.”

At that, I laughed out loud.

D’hiver had given me the world but it was Suki and Honoré who had taught me how to live in it.

“Honoré, having you by my side is the greatest gift.”

“That’s too much.”

As if by habit, Honoré pressed his forehead lightly against mine and whispered,

“I’m happy I met you too, Violette.”

His eyes curved gently as he looked at me.

“As long as Duke Keith allows it, I’ll stay by your side. Is that alright?”

“Of course.”

In that endlessly dull castle of his, Honoré and I were each other’s only source of amusement.

We would meet at midday and chat idly until evening.

When I returned to my room that day, Suki called out to me with an unusually dark expression.

“Miss.”

“Yes, Suki?”

“Did you go to see Honoré?”

It was such an ordinary thing that I nodded.

“Yes. It’s the only thing I really have to do.”

At my answer, Suki let out a deep sigh.

Her strange demeanor made me tilt my head in confusion.

“Suki, what’s wrong?”

“How do you feel about Honoré, Miss?”

“Um…”

My lips parted, but no sound escaped.

What should I call him?

My only friend?

The first person I had ever met who was my age?

He wasn’t someone I could easily define.

But one thing was certain: he was very precious to me.

Not as much as Suki, who had been by my side and cared for me, but he was still important to me.

“The fact that you cannot answer… must mean your heart is conflicted as well. Even so, I must say something you will not wish to hear.”

When I failed to respond, Suki spoke firmly.

“You must stop seeing Honoré.”

I couldn’t help but ask,

“What? Why?”

“In the end, it will only bring you pain.”

“I… don’t understand at all. Suki, why would you say something like that?”

“Because you are Psyche, Miss. You are the master’s bride.”

I tilted my head, not quite understanding what she meant.

It was Suki who had first explained the meaning of ‘Psyche’ to me.

The people of this country believed Psyche to be nothing more than a bride offered to a monster. However, D’Hiver wanted neither a bride nor a girl.

He only wanted someone talented that he could nurture.

Over time, the story had simply become distorted.

“Suki, you’re a Psyche too. Weren’t you, like me, a bride offered to him?”

At my question, Suki—who had been offered to the ‘monster’ fifty years ago—lowered her eyes quietly.

“You and I… are not the same.”