“Pfft…”

As soon as they were out of sight from the gathering, Saronne burst into the laughter she had been holding back. It was because of the final remark he had left Vivian with.

Quick to catch on, Leobint chimed in with a natural tone.

“Didn’t I do well?”

“I didn’t expect you to be so good with words.”

Saronne had never seen anyone besides Diego who could mock so sharply. She looked at him with an amused smile, then lowered her gaze somewhat awkwardly.

“By now, you must clearly understand the situation I’m in, don’t you?”

That day, she went to ask for his help. Before drawing him fully into her plan, Saronne resolved to show him the ordeal she was facing. This was why she had invited him to the gathering.

‘Lady Benit is trying to undermine my social standing. Not only does my husband refuse to defend me, he also lends credibility to everything she says.’

She had exposed herself to this humiliation in hopes of securing his support—but now, Saronne couldn’t help but feel a twinge of doubt.

At this point, she wouldn’t blame him if he chose to walk away, concerned about the damage to his own reputation.

Even though he had come to her aid at the very end of her previous life, Saronne still wasn’t certain why.
Was it because he felt indebted to her… or did he have another reason entirely?

Just then, Leobint came to a halt. Pulled from her thoughts, Saronne also stopped, her gaze lifting to meet his as he stared quietly at the ground.

“I can imagine how unjust this must have felt for you. You’re not someone who deserves to be treated like this.”

“…Is that so?”

At the faint fury in his voice, Saronne blinked. Though she couldn’t fully understand him, Saronne felt relieved at the thought that he didn’t seem to intend to withdraw his support.

“I think I’ve got a clearer idea now of how I can help you.”

Leobint, his eyes fixed solemnly on the bruise exposed on her wrist, reached out and gently brushed his fingers over it with quiet care.
Then, lifting his gaze, he offered her a soft, steady smile.

“Shall we meet again, just the two of us? I’m curious about your plan.”

“All right. I’m sure Your Grace is busier than I am, so I’ll adjust to your schedule. When would be convenient for you?”

“Hmm, tomorrow or the day after is fine… or even right now.”

“…Pardon?”

“I mean, I’ve got plenty of time. Any time is fine.”

“…Don’t you have anything urgent? I heard you run quite a few businesses.”

“Nope. I’m free.”

Leobint chuckled, his expression lightening. Saronne looked at him in bewilderment, then nodded slightly.

By now, she could tell that he was a considerate person.

At the Lois duchy’s banquet, for example, although he was clearly curious about her situation, he didn’t ask her any questions.

Even when she visited the Hethrian estate uninvited, he welcomed her and kept her company without hesitation.

‘Whether it’s just that he’s nosy or not, those are things only someone thoughtful could do.’

Saronne thought he seemed different from his reputation. Perhaps, like her, he too bore a false infamy due to someone’s malice.

‘Even now… he probably said he’s available anytime just to ease my burden.’

Gratefully, Saronne chose the latest of the days he had offered.

“Then I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”

“…Understood.”

His bright expression dimmed ever so slightly. But before she could notice it, he smiled again.

“I’ll send you a letter once I return.”

“All right. Thank you.”

Saronne saw him off warmly all the way to the main gate.

***

The sound of furious breathing filled the guest chamber.

Vivian, still seething after quite some time, finally lost her temper and hurled the hairbrush from her vanity to the floor.

‘That woman ruined everything!’

Grinding her teeth, Vivian glared at the mirror in front of her.

The reflection showed a face twisted with rage, completely unlike her usual delicate appearance. The fury in her pale green eyes bordered on madness.

‘Diego should’ve been mine. The Duchess’s seat should’ve been mine too.’
‘I was only trying to reclaim what was supposed to be mine!’

The plan to tear down Saronne’s standing and seize her place with ease had completely fallen apart.

‘That woman couldn’t even step out of her room a few days ago. How did she manage to pull this off?’

Leobint Hethrian—his siding with Saronne was also baffling.

Vivian, who had already done a thorough investigation of Saronne’s connections, knew full well that there was no prior relationship between the two.

‘Because of that woman, Saronne Lois…’

Vivian was on the verge of screaming with frustration. Instead, she forced herself to take a deep breath.

The distorted image in the mirror gradually became clearer. The viciousness faded and was replaced once again by an innocent, sorrowful expression.

‘Even so, Diego’s on my side. Jeihan is the heir of this family. No matter how desperately Saronne Lois flails, I’ll take everything from her.’

Her greatest obstacle—her child—was already gone.

Remembering that fact, Vivian let out a soft laugh. She turned from the mirror and stepped out of the room.

Her expression had completely changed, and her steps were purposeful as she headed for one place.

“Diego…!”

Tears brimming in her eyes, Vivian rushed in the moment she saw him.

“Vivian?”

Leaning on the bed with a troubled look, Diego’s eyes widened as he saw her. He stood quickly and reached out to gently wipe the tear-streaked cheeks before him.

“Why are you crying?”

As if waiting for it, Vivian buried herself in Diego’s arms.

“What happened earlier today was so upsetting. I’m really worried.”

Diego wrapped his arms around her small frame with a darkened expression. Her delicate shoulders trembled as she continued to sob softly.

“What if people don’t believe me? What if Lady Lois drives our poor Jeihan away…”

“Don’t worry. That’s not going to happen.”

“But she deceived even you for years, keeping up a facade while holding onto that position…”

She was a woman who had realized her resemblance to Vivian and cunningly struck a deal with one of the Duke family’s elders.

Then, pretending to know nothing, Saronne Lois had conveniently begun appearing around Diego—right after Vivian had mysteriously vanished.

‘Heaven must’ve helped me.’

Vivian knew that Saronne’s sudden return to high society had come far too soon after her own departure from the capital.

Carrying Diego’s child alone wouldn’t have been enough to claim the Duchess’s seat.

To take back what was rightfully hers—her place, and her son’s—Vivian had to ruin the woman who had stolen it.

And now, fate was finally tipping in her favor.

“If Grandmother were still here, she would’ve supported your words.”

“…Yes. It’s so sad she’s gone.”

She nodded at his words and nestled deeper into Diego’s embrace. Then, with tears still clinging to her lashes, she looked up at him.

“Diego, I’m so glad I got to see you again.”

Vivian smiled brightly, with a glimmer of moisture in her eyes.

Diego let out a faint chuckle and gently brushed her soft hair behind her ear. He was about to respond kindly when something about it all suddenly felt wrong.

His fingers, still tangled in her hair, paused as he carefully ran them through it.

The smile on his lips gradually faded.

“Diego?”

Unlike Saronne’s softly waving hair, Vivian’s long strands were straight and silky.

And though the color appeared similar at a glance, Vivian’s hair was noticeably lighter than his wife’s rich chestnut brown.

As he studied her quietly, a sudden thought crossed Diego’s mind—

‘Maybe… Vivian and Saronne Dale don’t resemble each other as much as I thought.’

And with that, the image of Saronne leaving the gathering with the Second Prince flashed in his mind—
leaving a strange chill blooming in his chest.

“Diego, are you not feeling well?”

Sensing the subtle shift in the air, Vivian called him again.

“Your expression suddenly darkened.”

“…No. It’s nothing.”

Of course, there would be minor differences — it’s impossible for two people to be exactly alike. Trying to fit Saronne into his tender, beautiful memories with Vivian was always going to feel awkward.

While he was living with Saronne, there were moments when he saw her as a substitute for Vivian.

However, she was never part of his radiant memories of his first love.

‘Even that felt off… Funny how I’m only realizing it now.’

Now that the real one stood before him, there was no longer any need to project Vivian onto that mere replacement.

Which meant—there was no reason to be bothered, either.

Finally, Diego responded to Vivian’s earlier words.

“I’m glad I found you again, even now. I’ll take care of everything else, so don’t worry too much.”

When he was just a young viscount, he wasn’t strong enough to protect Vivian.

In an instant, she was gone.

While searching for news of her, he heard that she had lost her husband.

To make matters worse, he discovered that the child she was raising was actually his son, conceived during their time together.

Given how things had turned out, he could only conclude that fate had brought them back together.

It was as if a misfit puzzle piece had finally been placed back where it belonged.

Diego gently patted Vivian’s back. Her tears had stopped before she murmured in a small voice,

“Still, try not to be too harsh with Lady Saronne. Even though she hurt me, I think it’s because she wanted to stay by your side. I… can understand that feeling, just a little.”

“Vivian, you’re too kind for your own good.”

He kissed her hair once more. At this, Vivian let out a bright, ticklish laugh.

***

The following afternoon, Saronne opened the letter she had received from the Duchy of Hethrian.

‘I’ll be seeing Lord Hethrian again tomorrow.’

The letter contained the meeting location he had chosen in advance. Pleased with their growing rapport, Saronne began to write her reply, but then she suddenly froze.

There was some kind of commotion outside. Frowning slightly, she moved towards the door.

When—bang!—it suddenly burst open.

“Ah, just who I was looking for.”

The man fixed her with a mocking gaze and a disdainful look.

Before she could shut the door again, Diego appeared in the doorway, smiling crookedly.

His usually neat black hair was swept messily to one side.

“Hello, madam.”

He said, his tone sharply contrasting with his recent coldness. Then, with a jerk of his chin, he motioned towards the servant standing behind him who was pushing a tea trolley.

“Bring it in.”

“What… what are you doing?”

“Isn’t it your tea time? You’ll be spending this one with me.”