The game of make-believe ended after the sun had climbed past its dim, early light.

Karin pressed a hand against her stiff neck and looked up at the sun, which had begun to beat down in full.

‘A day like this comes maybe once a year.’

Whether the sky had been startled by Feron’s whims or not, the fog over the Valstar territory had, for once, cleared.

Karin had left her room to tend to her own schedule, and now she stood before Feron’s grave.

Thud. Thud. Wet soil, scooped out by a shovel, dried in a pile to one side. Karin adjusted her parasol and kneaded the back of her neck once more.

It was Feron’s fault for using his arm as her pillow the night before. She had told him she didn’t need it, yet he had slipped his arm beneath her neck anyway.

The right side of her face was the same. She had lain facing him the whole time, and she thought the skin on her cheek would wear away.

He had stroked her cheek, brushed her hair back, and whenever their eyes met, the corners of his eyes would curve into a soft smile.

Even now it was hard to believe, but that was what Feron had done. She had barely slept, startled again and again by his touch.

He had touched her so much that she could still feel the ghost of it lingering around her head.

“……”

She shook her head to rid herself of that invisible sensation. The head steward, who had been directing the servants, stepped up beside her.

“My lady. The dispersal preparations are complete, as you instructed. Shall we proceed……”

Karin had been about to give a nod when her gaze fixed on the grand coffin. The black coffin, buried deep in the earth, caught the sunlight and gleamed with a gloomy sheen.

“…… Open it for a moment.”

It was an entirely impulsive decision. She had accepted the living, breathing Feron as real, so the corpse naturally had to be dealt with, but.

She wanted to confirm it with her own eyes one more time. What lay inside had also been Feron’s body, hadn’t it.

Karin drew out a handkerchief and held it over her mouth. The head steward gestured, and the servants who had been waiting for the order carefully lifted the coffin lid.

It wasn’t close enough to see clearly, but the servants’ furrowed brows told her everything.

“Close it now.”

It was no different from an ordinary corpse. Then there was no reason to keep it.

But Karin made a different decision.

“There’s an empty storehouse at the western end, isn’t there? I believe it was scheduled to be torn down and rebuilt.”

Karin raised the subject, and the head steward bowed his head.

“Yes. That’s correct.”

“Then prepare a spot beside the storehouse grounds. Somewhere out of sight.”

***

Imperial charity parties were a yearly affair.

Among them, the charity party fell under the empress’s purview, and it was an event Karin rather liked.

Splendor befitting the occasion, performances pleasing to the eye. Wine aged to perfection, and refined conversation to match its deep flavor.

It was a time when the mistresses of various noble houses gathered to strengthen their ties with one another.

Petty power struggles broke out on occasion, but that was no concern of hers, standing as she did at the top of the hierarchy, second only to the empress.

Simply being able to enter the imperial palace without Feron at her side had been enough to let her breathe.

Even that felt trivial to her now.

“Hmm……”

It was because of Feron’s dramatic change.

But that was not the only reason Karin was looking at this invitation with displeasure.

The name written at the bottom of the invitation. Elwin Crasian Ethelbart.

‘The host of the party is the crown prince……?’

On top of that, invitations were customarily addressed to the family, yet this one bore only her name, bold and plain.

Another thing that bothered her was that the invitation was written in Elwin’s own hand.

The customary procedure was for the empress to compile a list of families to invite, and for Countess Meiyang, who assisted the empress, to write the invitations.

Even if the crown prince was hosting, his aide should have been the one to write them.

It made no sense for Elwin to have written every single invitation himself.

She could say this with certainty because Elwin was the same sort of person she was. If anything, he was a cut above her, never a step below.

More authoritarian than anyone, and someone who took his given privileges entirely for granted.

It suited his position as crown prince of the empire, but he carried it to an excessive degree.

Which meant he would never have bothered with the tedious task of writing invitations one by one. The most likely explanation was that he had made only hers this way……

“What is this? That perfume smell. It’s irritating just from a whiff.”

The faintly sweet scent he typically wore drifted off the paper.

She had flipped it back and forth to inspect it, and the smell had grown stronger.

First the sudden proposal of an affair, and now this pointless invitation.

What a nuisance he was making of himself. She had only just gotten Feron sorted out, and she had no intention of letting this man’s interference ruin her peaceful life.

Thud.

Karin had been glaring at the invitation she had tossed onto the desk, then rose from her seat.

Feron was likely receiving a guest.

Lately, many visitors have been coming to the Valstar manor.

Half were people curious about Feron, who had come back to life. The rest came with their own interests at stake.

Most welcomed Feron’s survival. Even if that welcome did not carry the best of intentions.

It seemed they were just wrapping things up. Karin spotted the two of them standing in the corridor and put on a light smile. It was a smile that came to her out of habit.

Feron was the first to turn his head at the sound of approaching footsteps.

He offered a fairly polished smile of his own. She gave him silent applause for not making it look cheap.

“What a surprise. I thought that back looked familiar. It’s been so long, Viscount Cliston.”

Cliston was a man who worked in an agency directly under the emperor, and someone who had maintained a steady connection with the Rothsil family as well.

Karin had known him since she was young enough to be called a little girl, so to her, Cliston occupied a place somewhere around that of an uncle without the blood tie.

“Oh my. Who do we have here, Lady Valstar? It has been too long. You remain as breathtakingly beautiful as ever.”

Cliston greeted her with proper courtesy, now that she had become a countess. Karin lifted the corner of her mouth once more at his pleased expression behind the monocle.

“Are you leaving already? Had I known you were here, I would have had a meal prepared in advance.”

She offered the light pleasantry, and he responded in kind with his characteristic fuss.

“Oh dear. I must make sure to come as your guest next time. The chef at Valstar manor is quite renowned, you know. They say he has captured your exceptional palate.”

He lowered his voice as though sharing a secret, then let out a hearty laugh.

Karin smiled along with him, then slipped in a casual question.

“Even so, it must have been urgent business. For you to come all the way to Valstar in person, Viscount. His Majesty……”

The agency directly under the emperor was not simply a name. They were the ones moving at the front lines to carry out the bedridden emperor’s orders. In short, they were a department far too frantically busy to be making personal visits to Valstar.

“……”

“…… Hm?”

She was on the verge of growing puzzled at the answer that did not come, when Feron wrapped an arm around her waist.

Lips suddenly brushed against her cheek, and Karin snapped her head around.

The warmth Feron had left on her skin faded away.

“……”

“Ahem. Well then, this old man had best be on his way.”

True to his reputation as a devoted husband, Cliston walked away with a satisfied look on his face. He accepted the head steward’s guidance from the end of the corridor and descended the staircase.

“What was that?”

Karin had kept her smile on for Cliston until the very end, then turned to look at Feron.

“What brings my lady all the way here?”

This time he took her hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. Karin watched him in silence and let out a low “Hm.”

‘He’s changing the subject. So it must be something I’m not supposed to know about.’

What the emperor had Feron doing was obvious without even hearing it.

Dirty work, difficult work, dangerous work. But work that would benefit him.

Even if she found out about such things, nothing would change.

And so Karin set aside her questions and returned to the point.

“Come with me to the charity party.”

“Sure.”

He answered without resistance and started walking.

Feron’s interlaced fingers guided her in the direction of the study.

“You’re not even going to ask why.”

“If my lady decided it, there must be a reason.”

“Because the host is the crown prince.”

“……”

“I’d like him kept away from me. What is a man doing at a party meant for women?”

She turned to look out the window with a disinterested expression, and Feron let out a low chuckle.

He pulled her by their joined hands and drew her into his arms, then whispered quietly.

“I’ll take care of him without fail, so don’t worry, my lady.”