Most of the servants pitied Daphne. The few who had served her closely kept silent to outsiders, but knowing how much she’d suffered because of Astaire all this time, they felt sorry about the current situation.

Some cautiously overstepped their bounds to try to dissuade Daphne. But instead, Daphne smiled faintly.

“I’ll be fine.”

She would live well without him.

Watching her, the elderly servants worried about the young Duchess, not knowing what to do.

No matter how much times had changed, there was still a widespread view that it was too difficult for a woman to stand alone without a father or husband. Especially for a married woman to live without a husband after divorce—it was difficult to escape social prejudice in many ways.

Of course, Daphne wasn’t unaware of this fact.

She endured everything and craved freedom.

She finally realized.

That love had been shackles to her.

That once she broke free from that love, she could advance into a much wider world.

Why had she only realized this now?

Regret was meaningless. She thought it fortunate that she’d realized it now, at least.

When Daphne raised her head again, her eyes held a light never seen before.

Vitality.

The energy of being alive.

It was a clear, vivid light like sprouts budding in spring.

“Shall I call a carriage for you, Madam?”

“No, it’s fine.”

Daphne declined. Since Astaire had the head butler burn most of her belongings anyway, all she had to bring from the estate was one small bag. At least she’d kept some money stored separately for a few days of food, lodging, and expenses, which was fortunate.

In the golden light the sun scattered, Daphne awakened like a sprout.

Thinking about shaking off the darkness and anxiety of the past and stepping into a new world, hope rose in her heart too.

Daphne caught her breath for a moment and took a step, leaving the heavy memories behind. One step, one step—her feet felt light descending the estate’s antique stairs.

The path stretching far ahead was still unfamiliar, but she held anticipation instead of fear.

On the sunlit path, a new beginning opened its first chapter.

This was the start.

“I’ll be going now.”

Daphne waved at the servants who had gathered at the estate’s main gate to say their final goodbyes.

Then without hesitation, she turned around.

Standing with her back to the massive ducal estate, she stepped forward lightly.

Her feet felt lighter than ever.

This is the start.

That’s when it happened.

Thud, thud, thud.

From behind, footsteps much faster than hers approached. Daphne deliberately didn’t turn around. The footsteps were sickeningly familiar.

“Ah!”

The owner of the footsteps grabbed Daphne’s shoulder and turned her around to face him.

“Let me go.”

Daphne shouted.

Only then did Astaire release her and speak.

“Are you serious?”

“What?”

“…Are you really leaving?”

She was curious about his intent in asking about her sincerity now.

Daphne stared clearly into Astaire’s green eyes. Then for a moment, she noticed his eyes trembling slightly.

What?

As Daphne wondered, the man blinked again. This time he looked at her with utterly cold eyes.

She must have seen wrong.

She thought that and moved on.

“Yes. I’m leaving you, Your Grace.”

Even to her own ears, her voice sounded confident. Astaire sighed in frustration.

“It’s not too late yet. Come back now.”

“Come back?”

Daphne sneered.

“I never belonged to this ducal estate in the first place. I have nowhere to return to.”

Bitterness seeped into her voice. That’s right. Though not now, in the early days of their marriage, the maids had subtly disrespected her, who had suddenly become Duchess from the Duke’s ward. 

Many of them were close to the Grand Duchess. The Grand Duchess and Astaire’s longtime acquaintances also pretended otherwise while subtly looking down on her.

Even knowing all this, Astaire only pretended to stop it outwardly, but actually didn’t care at all how she was treated.

And most miserably of all.

Daphne had endured all this because she loved Astaire.

She’d worn the shackles of love and thrown herself away. Now she even pitied herself for abandoning herself like that.

“I finally understand now. That I myself am more precious than anything.”

“…”

“I’m leaving now to find myself.”

“Leaving to find yourself?”

Astaire chuckled.

“You’re a person of this ducal family. There’s no such thing as yourself. You’re mine.”

You’re mine.

His possessive assertion suffocated her. Daphne gave up even composing her expression and frowned.

Astaire, keenly noticing her grimace, asked, “Are you okay? Are you sick?”

“I’m fine. Don’t concern yourself.”

Daphne audibly smacked his hand away.

“Anyway, don’t worry. I’ll repay the debt I owe you, Your Grace.”

Why was that? This time the man said nothing.

The person who had been colder and more cruel about money than anyone else in the world was quiet this time.

Daphne didn’t welcome his change at all. But she had no intention of properly examining it.

“I’ll be going now.”

This time Astaire fell away from her weakly. For a moment, Daphne felt a corner of her heart grow empty. Though she couldn’t define what this emotion was herself.

How foolish.

Did she still have some lingering attachment to him?

Like that girl who would flutter when he was even slightly kind, who would be happy when he looked after her…

No. This man has that woman.

Reina Melanian.

What meaning was there in being looked after by a man who already had another woman?

Daphne turned away coldly.

She left the ducal estate without hesitation.

The massive iron gates of the estate opened wide on both sides.

It felt like a new world was opening for her.

This is the start.

Daphne closed her eyes quietly and murmured.

Then she moved without stopping.

Gradually, little by little, the Duchess’s retreating figure grew smaller. Until it became so small it turned into a black dot, Astaire stood rooted in place, watching her back.

“…Ha.”

Astaire took out a cigar again. As he put the cigar in his mouth without hesitation, his aide Germo lit it for him beside him.

If only he could forget that woman, Daphne, even a little with the acrid smoke entering deep into his lungs. But the more he tried to forget her, the more he thought of her.

“Fine. Try running away.”

Astaire muttered like spitting.

“I’ll bring you back by any means necessary.”

His voice was murderous.

“I’ll make you regret daring to leave me.”

Eventually, Daphne would return to this estate.

* * *

Astaire was quietly looking out the window in his study.

It had already been five hours.

At the door, the head butler looked at the Duke worriedly. His wrinkled face looked troubled.

A duke standing still for five hours straight just staring out the window. And setting aside all his usual work too.

The head butler knew well what had made the Duke like this. Knowing made it difficult.

The Duchess who had now entered a state of separation.

“Excuse me, if I may.”

“…”

No answer came. Nevertheless, the head butler continued speaking.

He hesitated for a while, circling around the question, but ultimately had to ask directly.

“May I ask why you wish to bind the Madam so?”

It was hard for him to understand.

All this time, the Duke hadn’t given love to the Duchess. He’d only used her, and recently when she declared divorce, he tried to cage her like a bird.

Anxious that she might fly out of the cage at any moment.

Whether use or love, it was an excessively cruel obsession.

The head butler had watched over Astaire since before he was even five years old.

Astaire had been exceptional since his days as a young lord.

Was it when he was 10 years old?

The young lord was precocious even at that age. For a child, he rarely smiled. He would smile along only when adults smiled, and when they made serious expressions, he would show the same serious face.

When children his age played tag in the yard, young Astaire would stand quietly by the window with his hands behind his back, watching the playing children.

“Do you wish to play with them too, Young Master?”

At first, the head butler thought Astaire wanted to play with children his age.

He was wrong.

When spoken to, young Astaire slowly turned to look at the head butler.

The head butler flinched involuntarily. Eyes too calmly settled for a child’s were gazing at him.

“No, it’s fine.”

A boy with a child’s appearance but an adult’s eyes from early on.

That was Astaire.

The Duke and Duchess Seyfried were pleased to see their young only son was precocious unlike other children, but the head butler who had served the ducal family for a long time thought differently.

How could it be fine for a child to have an adult’s eyes?

Astaire grew up splendidly as the ducal couple wanted. He obeyed their words, perfectly learned etiquette as a noble, entered the Imperial Academy as top student and graduated as valedictorian too.

The head butler could picture the boy’s future without seeing it. It was truly a smooth path of silk.

He was living so well now, and in a few years the boy would take a perfect girl as his companion, just like himself.

And he would have perfect children like himself.

That was the ecology of nobles. After calculating with each other, they would welcome the marriage partner they thought most perfect, have children just like themselves, raise them the same way, then marry them off—a repetition.

Perhaps because they had everything? The more nobles possessed, the less they were attached to family or obsessed with love.

What was important to them was only creating a perfectly presentable family.

There was one anecdote he still remembered.

Just once, there was an animal that Astaire, who had been indifferent to any living creature, showed interest in.

A small bird.

“Look, a bird with a broken wing!”

“Oh my, I should bring bandages. Young Master.”

“…You’re going to fix it?”

At Astaire’s question, the head butler asked back instead.

“Pardon? What do you mean, Young Master?”

“…”

As he went upstairs to get bandages, the Seyfried young lord’s reaction was unusual.

In his hands still lay the bird with a broken wing, unable to fly and fluttering.

“If you fix the wing, it’ll leave me and fly away.”

“Young Master.”

The head butler’s breath caught for a moment. He didn’t know what to say to this young boy.

Astaire stroked the bird’s colorful feathers with his finger and muttered.

“Pretty bird.”

“…”

“I want it. I covet it.”

The head butler bent down to meet Astaire’s young height and eyes.

He held the young lord’s hand and spoke in an endlessly serious voice.

“Young Master. A bird is a living, breathing creature. It cannot be a possession.”

“Why?”

“Because…”

His words caught for a moment.

Asked to explain an utterly obvious truth, he had nothing to say. It was like having to answer the question of why humans must breathe oxygen.

“Well, even if you kept that bird, Young Master, you would be disappointed. Birds are beautiful in themselves because they fly in the sky.”