[Gilbert has been ordered to track down the knight named Paul. He’s a capable knight, so he’ll find something—be it the child or a corpse.]

Before going out to greet Jack Esperanza, Marquis Diarmuid had coldly warned Gretel while glaring down at her.

[So don’t even think about doing anything foolish. You endured over ten years outside to avoid harming the child. Surely, sitting quietly and smiling for an hour is nothing.]

[…]

[When I return with the Duke, you will smile. Remember that.]

“…”

Gretel sat on the sofa in the drawing room, staring blankly into space.

Her wavy green hair, tinged with brown, cascaded softly down to her waist.

Her navy-blue eyes, sharp features, and perfectly shaped red lips made her so stunning it could make one sigh in awe.

Dressed and groomed by the maids, Gretel resembled a meticulously crafted doll.

Not a person, but a doll.

[Smile.]

[Smile.]

[Didn’t I tell you to smile?]

[Smile!]

The Marquis’s voice echoed endlessly in her mind.

‘…I need to smile.’

Gretel consciously tried to lift the corners of her lips.

But her face wouldn’t move, as if she had forgotten how to smile.

As she struggled a few more times to smile, tears suddenly rolled down her cheeks, leaving trails on her pale skin.

‘I can’t let them see me cry…’

If the guest—Duke Esperanza—noticed her tear-streaked face, Marquis Diarmuid would surely explode in fury.

She needed to stop crying, wipe away the tears, and smile as quickly as possible.

But her body wouldn’t move.

It felt as though she had been stuffed and preserved while still alive.

Without even contorting her face, Gretel continued to cry silently.

Amidst the suffocating stillness, faint sounds of commotion reached her ears.

“…No, you can’t. I must go with her…”

“What, are you planning to hover over your daughter even after she’s married? That’s pathetic, Marquis.”

With that unfamiliar voice, the drawing room door burst open and then shut again.

Outside, the Marquis muttered something under his breath but soon fell silent.

“Are you Gretel Diarmuid?”

Even in her dazed state, her name rang clearly in her ears.

Gretel slowly turned her head toward the door. Her gaze met his.

“….”

A man with black hair and red eyes, around her age, was looking at her.

His eyes widened slightly, as if surprised by something.

“…This is the first time I’ve been greeted by a woman crying while waiting for me.”

At Jack’s murmured words, it felt as though cold water had been poured over her, snapping her back to her senses.

For the first time, an expression of shock appeared on Gretel’s previously blank face.

‘What have I done…?’

As she froze in horror, Jack strode toward her and pulled something out of his jacket, holding it out in front of her.

Startled, she flinched, only to see that what he offered was a handkerchief.

“Here.”

“….”

“If you want to cry more, go ahead. But your father might be eavesdropping at the door, so try not to make too much noise.”

His tone was devoid of sympathy or surprise, sounding almost indifferent.

Yet somehow, it felt comforting.

After hesitating for a moment, Gretel reached out with trembling hands and accepted the handkerchief.

Jack, without lingering, turned away and strode over to sit on the sofa across from her, his long legs stretching out as he settled in.

Watching him, Gretel bit her lip.

The handkerchief in her hand crumpled slightly.

‘…I should thank him and smile.’

She was grateful for Jack’s gesture.

But she couldn’t help imagining what would happen if Marquis Diarmuid managed to capture Laviela and tighten his grip around her.

For Laviela’s safety, she needed to wipe away her tears, smile, and promise to have the handkerchief cleaned and returned.

That was what the Marquis wanted.

But…

[If you want to cry more, go ahead.]

Could she deceive someone who had said those words to her?

Could she push someone who had silently offered her a handkerchief into a pit for her own gain?

Clutching the handkerchief tightly, Gretel wrestled with herself for a long time.

Finally, she closed her eyes and forced out the words with great difficulty.

“…You’re planning to marry me, aren’t you?”

What Gretel ultimately chose was Laviela’s safety.

It was a natural result.

No matter how grateful she was for Jack’s kindness, nothing was more precious to Gretel than Laviela.

If it was for Laviela’s protection, she could shake off even this trivial guilt and throw others into the devil’s hands without hesitation.

‘…I’m sorry.’

To push away her guilt, Gretel silently apologized in her heart, words Jack wouldn’t hear, as she bit the inside of her cheek.

But the answer that followed was something Gretel hadn’t expected at all.

“No.”

“…Pardon?”

For a moment, Gretel doubted her ears.

Jack’s face was so utterly calm as he said those words that she couldn’t help but assume she had misheard.

However, Jack spoke again, driving the point home.

“What I want from you is a contract. Specifically, a contract disguised as marriage.”

“W-What do you mean…?”

Gretel stammered in confusion.

From the moment Jack had entered the drawing room, everything had been a mystery.

At that moment, Jack reached into his coat and pulled something out.

This time, it wasn’t a handkerchief but a small envelope.

“Read it.”

“…What is this?”

“You’ll know when you see it. I can’t give it to you since the Marquis might find it.”

Jack pushed the envelope toward Gretel and gestured indifferently.

Hesitating, Gretel picked up the envelope and pulled out the paper inside.

“…!”

And immediately.

Her hand gripping the letter tightened like a bolt of lightning. Her navy-blue eyes widened in shock.

Her trembling hand shook as if it were a leaf in the wind.

The moment she recognized the familiar handwriting, the tears she had barely been holding back burst forth.

“Ah…”

It was Laviela’s letter.

<Mom, it’s me.

I’m sorry for the late contact. I had no proper means to send a word, so I had no choice. Still, I’m sorry again.

It must have been so hard and scary for you. I’m safe. Are you hurt anywhere, Mom? Gilbert didn’t treat you poorly, did he?

There’s so much I want to ask, but the Duke delivering this letter will explain everything in detail.

Now, it’s really just a little longer until we can meet again.

So, please wait until then. It’ll be such a short time, like baking pancakes just ten times.

…I love you, Mom.>

Gretel suppressed the strength in her hands, barely managing to read the last line of the letter.

Her child, who had never once written “I love you” on paper before out of embarrassment, must have been in an unimaginable state of mind to write those words.

“…You must explain exactly what is going on, Your Grace.”

Her throat was choked with sobs, and even breathing was difficult.

But Gretel forced herself to squeeze out her voice.

Jack, who witnessed the determination filling the once-empty navy-blue eyes, felt a slight chill.

He let out a faint laugh.

The doll-like, hollow face she had shown when they first met was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, Gretel now wore the expression Jack had heard about from Paul.

It was the face of someone fiercely living their life.

And that face was, somehow…

‘I like that look.’

It was a little—or rather, quite—captivating.

If he were human, it would only be natural to feel intrigued.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on such feelings.

Not that they were particularly deep feelings to begin with. It was akin to watching a butterfly flit by outside the window.

Jack leaned slightly toward Gretel, his expression hardening.

He spoke in a serious tone.

“Lady Gretel Diarmuid.”

Beneath his black hair, his red eyes shone with both menace and allure.

“Listen carefully to what I’m about to say.”

—

Meanwhile, at the same time.

“My name is Ella. I’m hungry. Could you give me some food?”

Laviela stood in front of an orphanage near the capital, reaching out her hand to the staff.

She was dressed in tattered clothes that looked ready to fall apart at any moment, her face smudged with soot from who knows where.