Chapter 5

“Quiet, Gisela!”

Earl Royce looked troubled, but his daughter, her head held high, was still agitated.

“How… How could he ask me, of all people, to be a maid?”

“It’s because His Grace the Grand Duke cherishes you deeply. You were once trusted enough to be personally considered as a candidate for Grand Duchess….”

‘What did he just say?’

Earl Royce clicked his tongue softly, as if realizing his mistake. But she had already heard everything, and her neck stiffened.

“She was the only woman he ever let stay by his side since childhood…!”

“That’s enough. His Grace the Grand Duke was just as heartbroken as you when he received the Emperor’s personal letter….”

Earl Royce kept letting his words trail off, pretending it was a slip.

‘The Emperor’s personal letter—wasn’t that the one that forced this marriage? Was the Grand Duke heartbroken because of that? Was it because of the woman standing before me?’

Because of the circumstances of the villainess and the extra, this was information never revealed in the original story. Did that mean the Grand Duke killed Iris? Did he remove Iris, the foreign substance, just to be with the woman he loved?

“Your Grace, my daughter spoke out of turn. I’ll take her away and scold her properly, so please, I beg you to forget this happened….”

Earl Royce bowed deeply, begging her forgiveness. She nodded blankly, and he hurriedly embraced his daughter and left.

Despite his seemingly servile attitude, there was a smile on his lips.

‘Was he trying to put me in my place?’

He looked satisfied, like a man who had achieved his goal.

* * *

The original story never clearly revealed who killed Iris. She had desperately hoped it wasn’t her husband, the Grand Duke….

She sat on the window sill, gazing at the night sky. It was a full moon. The world outside was deathly silent.

She already knew that the Grand Duke and Iris were only a couple in name. Still, she had hoped that, by possessing Iris, there might be some chance to improve their relationship, even a little. Even if not love, if there was affection or loyalty, at least he wouldn’t have left his wife to die.

But now she learned there was another woman in the North with whom he’d promised a future? Her head throbbed. A sigh slipped from her lips.

Knock, knock.

Suddenly, a knock shattered the silence. Goosebumps ran down her spine. It was the middle of the night—what was this?

Knock, knock, knock.

When she didn’t answer, the knocking continued. She clenched her teeth, determined not to make a sound, but the knocking persisted, as if mocking her.

“Who is it…?”

In the end, she asked the question. She tried her best, but her voice trembled like a goat’s. At the same time, she heard a soft, stifled laugh.

What—was he laughing? Her neck tingled with unease, but then the man outside cleared his throat and steadied his voice.

“It’s me, Your Grace.”

She could never mistake his voice.

“…Demian?”

“Yes, if you’re alright, could you open the door? There’s something I’d like to say.”

She approached the door, careful not to make a sound.

“Sir, what is the meaning of this? Did my words about not coming to see me again really mean nothing to you?”

“Of course not. I just… I was worried you might be crying alone.”

What nonsense was he spouting now? She wanted to snap back, but instead roughly wiped her eyes to calm down. To her surprise, her hand came away wet. She really had been crying.

“…Are you alright?”

“…….”

Her throat tightened, and she couldn’t answer. Why did she keep exposing the sides of herself she most wanted to hide to this man? She steadied her breathing, swallowing her tears.

“I’m fine, so you should go back now, Sir.”

“I’ll leave after I check. I just want to make sure you’re really alright.”

“Sir, why are you doing this to me?”

“…Would it be alright if I told you the reason myself?”

A silence fell between them, separated only by the door. When she didn’t answer, he let out a deep sigh. In the quiet of the Northern night, her pounding heart worried her—what if Demian could hear it?

“Your Grace, there’s a spectacle in the North that can only be seen on nights with a full moon.”

“…….”

“I wanted to make at least one good memory for you here, with my own hands.”

“Demian…”

“A mere knight like me could never dare covet you, Your Grace. I would never do anything you don’t wish for, so please, just let me comfort you.”

His words touched her heart, and in the end, she opened the door.

It hadn’t even been locked in the first place. Demian simply hadn’t touched the handle without her permission.

When she opened the door, he was standing there as if in a dream.

His face was pale in the moonlight. His jet-black hair, which no light could penetrate, was slightly tousled. He looked as if a master craftsman had painstakingly carved him from marble.

But as soon as he saw her, warmth filled his face. She clenched her fists to keep from losing herself.

* * *

She was riding the horse he had prepared, entering the forest. The cold was biting, but thanks to the many layers she wore, she could bear it. Or perhaps it was the warmth she felt from Demian, right behind her.

He skillfully guided the horse, with her sitting in front.

Her back pressed against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat through their thick clothing. Every time Demian exhaled, her chest fluttered.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“I’m alright.”

Her white breath clouded her vision, then dissipated. Because she was unskilled at riding, he led the horse slowly through the forest. Even the trees in the North were enormous, and the thick undergrowth concealed them completely. The scent of wood filled her lungs—the very scent she sometimes caught from Demian.

Now that she thought about it, this was the first time anyone had taken her outside the ducal residence. With snow falling, the world was even quieter, and it felt like the perfect night for lovers to share secrets.

Suddenly, she thought of the husband she’d never seen.

‘Did the Grand Duke ever spend a night like this with someone? Perhaps with that woman, Gisela.’

After all, Gisela’s father was so loyal he’d been scarred protecting the Grand Duke, and the two had been close since childhood.

It wasn’t jealousy. But if the Grand Duke already had someone with whom he’d shared memories that made the world feel like it belonged to just the two of them, then it was inevitable that Iris, in the original story, would never win his heart.

“Sir Demian, there’s something I want to ask.”

“Please, go ahead.”

“Does His Grace the Grand Duke have a lover?”

Demian tensed, his body stiffening. Was it because she’d brought up his lord in such an awkward situation, or because he’d realized the truth she’d tried to hide?

“Who told you such a thing,Your Grace?”

“…….”

“Was it Gisela Royce?”

Demian’s voice was cold. He wasn’t a noble, yet he spoke Gisela’s name without hesitation.

“So it was Gisela Royce’s careless words that upset you.”

“No, it’s not just that.”

“Your Grace, I am not in a position to comment on my lord’s private life….”

His arms tightened around her from behind, as if to shield her from the world.

“His Grace the Grand Duke is not someone who can be a good husband.”

Demian neither affirmed nor denied the Grand Duke’s relationship with Gisela. But the meaning behind his words was clear.

“I see… Did you think I looked ridiculous, saying I’d try my best to be a good wife?”

“Not at all.”

Demian urged the horse on a little faster. The cold wind brushed her cheeks. Thanks to his skill, she was quickly growing accustomed to riding.

“I just… I thought His Grace the Grand Duke was a blessed man.”

“…Thank you, Sir Demian.”

“I only spoke the truth.”

The horse gradually picked up speed. She was briefly distracted by the scenery rushing past. Demian’s heart was still beating fiercely.

“Your Grace, you will make a wonderful Grand Duchess.”

“All of a sudden? Why do you think that?”

She smiled at the unexpected compliment, and Demian let out a soft groan.

“I once heard rumors about you, Your Grace. So I, too, misunderstood you at first.”

“What rumors? That I was the most notorious troublemaker in the Imperial Palace?”

“Hmm…”

“That I changed maids every day, wasted money like water, and now, whenever I tried to assign a lady-in-waiting, every noble lady ran away in tears?”

“…Well, something like that.”

She recited the original setting, and Demian stifled a laugh. He leaned in closer, and she flinched as if shocked.

“Even I, with my prejudices, now believe you’ll do well.”

“…….”

“To be honest, when you tried to escape in a maid’s uniform, I admired your strong will and quick action.”

“You’re teasing me again, aren’t you?”

“No, I thought you were independent and courageous—quite unlike the rumors. And those are the traits Northerners value most.”

Before they knew it, they’d reached a hilltop. She pretended to be absorbed in the scenery, trying to cool her flushed cheeks.

“Perhaps, from the very first time I met you, Your Grace….”

She forgot to breathe, waiting for his next words. At last, Demian stopped the horse and rested his forehead against her back. She bit her dry lips tightly.