Prologue

“I received an anonymous letter claiming you have a lover.”

Her heart sank at words she had never even imagined. In the study, where only she and her husband were present, silence lingered for a while.

“…What?”

Her voice trembled faintly as she asked again. Yet, on his perfectly sculpted face, there was not a hint of agitation.

It was the composure of a man who had been the master of the North since boyhood.

“No matter how much our marriage was only in name…”

He rose from his seat and strode over. Her husband’s shadow was large enough to swallow her whole. The setting sun cast a glow over his jet-black hair.

His silvery-gray eyes pierced through her. The tension made her want to close her eyes.

‘A lover? And an anonymous letter?’

Unconsciously, she took a step back, desperately thinking. No matter how hard she tried, she felt she was innocent.

No—she was an outsider with not a single ally in the North, so an affair? What nonsense!

“W-wait a minute!”

He raised one eyebrow, as if telling her to go ahead and speak.

At the same time, her back touched the wall. There was nowhere left to retreat.

“I’m truly wronged. Since coming to the North, I haven’t met any outsiders. This is a setup!”

“…….”

“Besides, who would dare so brazenly have an affair with the Grand Duchess in the North!”

Instead of answering, her husband let out a brief laugh. It was certainly a picture-perfect smile, but his eyes were dark and sunken.

“I saw the love letters you exchanged with him.”

“…Love letters?”

“You mostly had secret meetings in the greenhouse.”

‘What, love letters?’ 

There was only one person who could have written something that could be called that to her. 

‘And the greenhouse? No way…’

“It’s said you danced with him at the festival.”

Her husband gently stroked her tangled hair as he continued. Her platinum blonde hair became entwined between his long fingers. Though the touch was tender, chills ran down her spine.

“Did you enjoy it?”

“No, I…!”

“I thought we had grown quite close compared to when we first met…”

He lowered his head toward her. Only now could she read the heat in his ash-colored eyes.

“Seems that man was much more devoted to my wife than I ever was.”

He was trying hard to hide his anger. No, it was unmistakable jealousy.

“Ah…”

She was at a loss for words, not knowing how to clear up this misunderstanding. She felt so wronged it was almost nauseating.

No, that man was indeed devoted to her!

In her desperation, she grabbed his collar. He paused for a moment, then wrapped her hand in his.

“I won’t ask anything. End it.”

She could only move her lips, unable to offer any excuse. His gaze grew deeper, and the grip on her hand tightened.

‘No, this was all a misunderstanding, because that man…’

“…Please.”

He wore an expression like a boy frightened by emotions he was experiencing for the first time. Her heart dropped.

Her husband gazed at her, unable to answer, then, as if giving up, buried his head on her shoulder. His breath touched the nape of her neck, and she stiffened, her eyes darting around.

How could she possibly explain this?

The man accused of being her lover was actually his second personality, and he was, in fact, a person with dissociative identity disorder.

There was another personality, identical in appearance but opposite in every way, who awakened only when he slept.

He was, in reality, jealous of his own self!