Having a rumor go around that he had deliberately killed his wife and remarried Vivian Libero would be inconvenient, wouldn’t it? So Valen was probably trying not to leave anything that could be used against him. Being kind to Yuria was all just to build an alibi, proof that he had fulfilled his duties as a husband.

Suddenly everything seemed to fall into place. His insistence that she not be alone with anyone else, and his words, you must never fall in love with me. Yuria must not be put in a position to be assassinated, and since she would eventually face divorce anyway, she must not fall genuinely in love with Valen. That was what he meant.

She had known that the absurd deal they had struck as children could be easily broken, but actually thinking that Valen might be working against her behind her back gave her a sharp sense of betrayal.

This is no time to be sitting still. She had to verify whether this theory was true, and quickly.

For now, start with Vivian, the easier target. She needed to probe her and find out what the two of them were planning. Vivian would almost certainly be on guard around Yuria, but she knew well how to draw out what a person was really thinking.

Yuria stood up abruptly, and Equus, looking slightly alarmed, asked:

“You’re not, er, planning to do something to Lady Vivian right this moment, are you?”

“Absolutely not.”

Yuria replied with a pleasant smile. That seemed to have the opposite effect, because a faint crease appeared between Equus’s brows. His expression was that of a man wondering what on earth this woman was about to do.

“Dinner is almost ready. You may go.”

Yuria left Equus standing in his bewilderment and walked back toward the manor, a quiet resolve settled in her chest.

Winning over Valen’s closest aide would take time and careful effort. But someday, without fail, she would make him truly hers. Of that, Yuria was certain.

* * *

“You’re late.”

That was the first thing Valen said when Yuria took her seat beside him. She hadn’t even come that late. What a difficult man.

“Where were you?”

“Why do you care?”

Yuria shot back bluntly. Having formed the theory that his concern for her was nothing more than worry about her getting killed, she couldn’t exactly warm to him.

“You walked out of the study, and the attendant I called for a while ago disappeared somewhere in between. I wondered if something had happened.”

Annoyingly perceptive. Yuria’s chest gave a guilty lurch and she fixed her gaze on the plate in front of her.

“After I left the study and was walking down the corridor, I ran into Equus Verde. He was delayed because of me, so don’t be too hard on him.”

Valen gave a small nod, as though he had already suspected as much.

“It took quite a while just to exchange greetings.”

His hands moved with precise, practiced motions as he picked up the knife and fork and began cutting the meat on his plate. With each press of the blade, a trickle of red seeped out, and Yuria found herself slipping into an unwanted image.

What if that piece of meat were herself, and Valen and Vivian were standing over her together, a blade at her throat? And what if, without her knowing, she was being carved away just like that, slowly? A cold sweat seemed to break out across her skin.

Valen noticed Yuria staring at her own hands with a look that suggested she might be sick at any moment, and one of his eyebrows rose.

“Are you unwell?”

His flat, faintly worried question came back to her. There was even an edge in his voice. Worried she might have swallowed poison, perhaps. Yuria pressed her lips together and shook her head. She was afraid that if she opened her mouth even slightly, she would actually be sick.

“If you’re not feeling well, you can go in. I’ll send for a physician right away.”

His consideration, which she might have mistaken for warmth if she hadn’t suspected his motives. Dizziness swept through her and the color seemed to drain from her face.

“Yuria, are you not feeling well?”

The gaze of a woman who looked very much like Valen, and the overly silent eyes of Duke Castoria, both settled on her. Yuria had not thought herself this fragile, but the pressure closing in on her was apparently heavier than she had realized.

She drew a quiet breath, steadied herself, and answered in a calm voice.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

To show that she was all right, she picked up her fork and began eating the salad. She didn’t think she could manage the meat tonight.

The others returned to their quiet meal, and Yuria worked hard to sink naturally into that silence alongside them.

* * *

The unbearably uncomfortable time passed, and Yuria went to the bedroom before Valen. Sleeping with the enemy was exactly the right phrase for it. Being newlyweds meant they couldn’t use separate rooms, and she had the obligation of producing an heir.

Before Valen returned, Yuria sat on the edge of the bed and sank into thought. She had believed that once the marriage was secured, everything would resolve itself, but she now understood with fresh clarity that it was only just beginning.

You dared to curse a god, and yet I will grant the last wish of that impudent soul. Whether it becomes a blessing or another hell is up to you.

Another hell. Yuria let out a hollow laugh. So what the god had given her was simply another hell. The only sin she had committed was refusing to accept an unjust death and railing against the heavens.

She buried her face in both hands and tried to compose herself. She couldn’t be certain yet, but if Valen and Vivian were moving to drive a knife into her back, she needed to find a way to fight it.

She hadn’t managed to find a single clue about her past life’s death. She hadn’t uncovered anything about the person who had killed her husband and son so brutally. To answer those questions, she had to survive in this enemy territory, no matter what.

For that, she first needed to build allies. The noblewomen who looked up to her with admiration were not enough. She needed people who would stand beside her even in a crisis, or she would never make it through what lay ahead. The only relationships she could count on with any certainty right now were her maid Anna and her brothers from Bellaris.

How could she have been so naive? No matter how diligently she had studied noble society, the Yuria of her past life had ultimately been nothing more than a woman who had wandered the streets. The schemes and machinations these people ran were not something she could easily adapt to.

Then she would have to become one of them, starting now.

Once inside enemy territory, the only option was to turn enemies into allies. Yuria thought of the noblewomen from Montagna. A few familiar faces passed through her mind. But most of them had turned their backs on Bellaris out of deference to Castoria.

Among them, however, there was one lady who had genuinely respected Yuria. Lady Halo of the Estian count’s family. She was someone who had acted with conviction even in a social world consumed by the opinions of others. Halo Estian had looked up to Yuria’s standing with sincere admiration and longing.

The Estian family was one of the oldest houses in Montagna, so there was no harm in keeping close ties with them. The one thing that gave Yuria pause was that Halo was also known for being rather unconventional.

She was a devout follower of Messina and firmly believed that every person would be given the chance to be reincarnated according to the deeds they had accumulated in life. Acting on that belief, Halo had been quietly diverting her family’s wealth to distribute among the poor. By any noble’s standard, she was a truly peculiar woman.

Some people called her the Swamp Witch, a name that came from the fact that the Estian family’s manor was situated near a marshland. Yuria had once visited a slum in Santora at Halo’s earnest request and helped distribute food there.

She had been deliberately avoiding such places because they brought back painful memories of her past life, but having lived among the nobility and watching them fatten only themselves had stirred a quiet defiance in her. Seeing people in the same circumstances as her former self receive help had left Yuria feeling unexpectedly at peace, and she had promised Halo she would quietly provide a fixed sum of support going forward.

However dire the ducal family’s finances, she was still living in far more luxury than those on the streets. Selling a piece of jewelry or two to help was no great sacrifice.

After that day, Halo had practically worshipped Yuria and would often declare that in her next life, she would surely live a happier life than anyone.

From the perspective of someone who had already been reincarnated, it was almost funny. By the tenets of Halo’s religion, Yuria should have been rotting in hell rather than reincarnating at all.

‘Why do you follow me so closely?’

Yuria had asked her once. Halo had answered with a smile full of certainty.