“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Birds are happiest when they’re in the sky.”

“Why does the bird’s happiness matter to me?”

“Yes. It matters.”

“Why?”

The head butler took the young lord’s hand and received the bird in his place as he answered.

“Because if the bird is happy, you’ll be happy too, Your Grace.”

“…I don’t get it.”

Right.

At that young age, he might not understand.

The head butler thought this and decided not to dwell on this incident deeply.

Young Lord Astaire Seyfried was still young. So as he grew, his strange selfishness could change.

But his family environment didn’t help.

“Astaire, what is all this!”

One day.

Daniela Seyfried, his mother, burst into Astaire’s room and shouted in a soul-drained voice.

When the head butler rushed over, the floor was a complete mess.

Burst paint tubes, torn canvases, a broken easel.

Daniela Seyfried flew into a rage when she heard that Astaire wanted to become a painter rather than a duke.

In response, Astaire demonstratively destroyed his art supplies right in front of the Duchess.

Only then did the Duchess leave satisfied.

In the midst of it all, she even assigned a watcher in case her son still harbored lingering attachment to art.

What could Astaire have learned and seen living like that?

He was an outwardly perfect duke.

But to the head butler who had served him for so long, the man was full of deficiencies.

Astaire had considerable obsession with targets he decided were his.

Even if they weren’t objects, but living, breathing creatures.

To him, Duchess Daphne Seyfried was no different from a bird with a broken wing.

Thinking of that long-ago incident, the head butler secretly sighed.

The bird with the broken wing that had been in Astaire’s hands back then overlapped with the current Duchess.

What had made this man like this?

Then and now.

The head butler didn’t know.

* * *

“This isn’t love.”

Finally, Astaire, who had been looking out the window, slowly turned around. Then he muttered.

By then, evening had arrived. Beyond the horizon hung the red and yellow glow of sunset.

The sunset light fell behind the man like backlighting. Half his face glittered red. In this moment, this exceptionally beautiful man looked exactly like he was receiving God’s blessing.

Even the head butler was momentarily mesmerized by the sight.

But he swallowed. Having experienced everything over decades at the ducal estate, he knew.

Duke Astaire Seyfried.

That man received not God’s blessing, but the devil’s blessing.

“No, is it love?”

Astaire muttered, spreading his hand open.

The head butler had the illusion of seeing that bird with the broken wing from long ago placed on his empty palm.

Astaire clenched his fist without hesitation.

If he squeezed like that, the bird would suffocate and die in his fist.

“It doesn’t matter either way.”

He muttered.

“Whether this is d*mn love or possessiveness.”

“…”

“What matters is that I need that woman. Daphne—that woman was my excellent informant.”

The doll stored in the closet had walked out of the closet on its own.

“That information could leak out. Think coldly.”

Though Astaire’s face clearly glowed red with the sunset light, a chill flowed that would freeze one’s hand at a touch.

A chilling energy flowed down the spine. The head butler was seized by the urge to leave his study immediately.

“…What would you have me do?”

“Nothing.”

Astaire looked out the window again.

“Ah, no way.”

Then he muttered.

In that moment, some thought flashed through Astaire’s mind.

“Haha…”

The man raked his dazzling blonde hair with his hand and laughed foolishly.

“Really funny, really funny.”

No. It wasn’t funny at all.

The Duke suddenly muttering to himself like a madman looked truly half-insane.

* * *

Though she’d left the estate recklessly, she felt lost.

She should have at least made minimal preparations before leaving.

Regret came too late. Just like how Astaire had done something irreversible to her.

Daphne resolved once more.

This is the beginning now.

She decided to visit her father, Viscount Brandley, first.

Of course, since they were divorced. She didn’t mean to live with her father like before.

She wanted to tell him not to look for her.

Besides, she was concerned that Astaire might do something to her father.

But from now on, her father also had to live his own life independently.

She had to tell him not to even dream of borrowing money using Astaire’s reputation now that they were divorced and would become strangers.

A shabby public carriage entered. It was a scene that didn’t fit the capital’s glamorous wealthy district.

Daphne got off the carriage and looked for the largest house on the street.

The house Viscount Brandley had obtained from Astaire.

Soon her father would have to find a new place to live separately.

To do that, she needed to give him notice.

But she heard shocking news from the butler of Viscount Brandley’s estate when she arrived.

“What? Father isn’t at the estate?”

If he wasn’t at the estate at this hour, surely not.

And ominous hunches tended to be right.

* * *

Golden lights scattered from the ceiling. It was so bright she couldn’t open her eyes properly.

Colorful lights wrapped around the air and shone, and cigar smoke spread faintly indoors.

In the hazy smoke, people anxiously rolled dice or held cards, holding their breath waiting for results. Each time cards slid across the table, a moment arrived like time had stopped.

A clock hung on the wall, but no one cared about the time.

Only casinos had such strange spaces in the world.

In the peculiar atmosphere where time seemed frozen, people challenged countless slim odds with hollow eyes. Only the chips in their hands were the last hope remaining to them.

Daphne walked around the casino, holding her breath because of the stale cigar smoke. She checked people holding dice or cards one by one, looking for her father, Viscount Brandley.

She finally found him.

“Father!”

Her father, Viscount Brandley, startled at the sound from afar and raised his head.

The moment he confirmed it was Daphne, the chips in his hands spilled out. Then people around swarmed like bees and snatched those chips.

Viscount Brandley began running away hurriedly like someone caught stealing.

“Father! Father! Where are you going!”

Daphne chased after her father.

Throughout the chase, her heart hurt more than her aching legs.

What had he done this time?

She had nothing to say. She could tell just from the fact that he’d touched gambling again, which he’d sworn never to do.

Even after ruining their peaceful family by going into debt through gambling, her father still hadn’t come to his senses.

“Father!”

Up ahead, Viscount Brandley stopped, exhausted, and panted. Daphne mustered a bit more strength and finally succeeded in grabbing her father’s arm.

“Daphne, let go!”

“Father! You promised me!”

The promise never to gamble again.

The promise never to cause trouble for her and Astaire again.

Her father, Viscount Brandley, had broken both promises simultaneously.

“Oh my, your father is dying, dying!”

Viscount Brandley whined at the strong grip. Only after cornering her father did Daphne finally release the arm holding him.

“Father, I’ll speak bluntly.”

“Wh-what?”

Viscount Brandley looked at Daphne anxiously. Daphne took a deep breath before speaking.

“I left Duke Seyfried’s estate.”

“What, what do you mean, Daphne!”

“I’ll never return to His Grace again.”

“Daphne!”

Viscount Brandley’s face turned bright red. He huffed repeatedly, seemingly knowing only his daughter’s name.

Her father was disappointing.

Rather than saying she did well and asking how much she’d suffered, he got angry first without trying to listen.

But it wasn’t surprising.

He’d always been this kind of person.

She had to acknowledge the bitter truth.

“Come to your senses now.”

Daphne held her father’s hand and spoke seriously.

She looked at Viscount Brandley, who had passed down sapphire-like blue eyes to her.

“You can’t entrust your life to someone else.”

“…”

“Father, you need to stand on your own now too.”

Abandon the habit of relying on her or Astaire.

And Daphne was about to turn around.

“Hey, I was having fun—where’d you go!”

Her father’s casino friend approached them.

“Even if you lost money, how can you suddenly jump up and run away!”

Daphne was disappointed once more.

Her father’s gambling debts had actually grown this way. A person with a terribly avoidant disposition. He didn’t repay debts he owed, just ran around, and the interest grew unbearably until he finally had to file for bankruptcy.

Even after being hit so hard, her father couldn’t quit gambling.

Brandley soon looked at Daphne with desperate eyes.

Eyes that seemed to beg her to save him from drowning.

Daphne hesitated for a moment.

No matter how pathetic a gambling addict he was, he was the father who had given her his blood.

An indescribable silence flowed between them for a moment.

Daphne soon decided.

“Handle your gambling debts yourself from now on.”

She snapped that and turned away coldly.

She heard Viscount Brandley desperately calling her name from behind, but Daphne never once looked back at her father.

The moment she emerged from the dark, stuffy underground casino, bright light poured down.

Though a passing shower had been falling just moments ago, the gray clouds had already cleared and dazzling sunlight was beating down on the world.

Daphne raised her head and faced the bright yellow sunlight head-on.

She felt refreshed.

The feeling after finally shaking off Astaire and Viscount Brandley, who had each grabbed one of her ankles, was an indescribable elation.

Now only one task remained.

The problem of how to resolve her debt and live well going forward.

* * *

Meanwhile, at Duke Seyfried’s estate, the Duke still remained at the estate without even going to work at the trading company.

Watching him, the head butler wore a worried expression but ultimately couldn’t say anything.

Astaire seemed deep in thought the whole time.

Then suddenly, he commanded.

“Write a letter.”

“Yes. Where shall I send it?”

“To Second Prince Phaios’s palace. Send an official letter requesting a meeting.”

“Yes… What?”

The servant was stunned hearing that.

Regardless, Astaire was unmoved.

“What are you doing?”

“…I’ll go send it.”

Thinking he couldn’t understand what the Duke was thinking, the servant moved hurriedly.

Shortly after, a reply to the official letter came from the Second Prince. It was an official document permitting entry to the palace.

As soon as he received the document, Astaire called for a carriage.

“To Second Prince Phaios’s villa.”

Astaire seemed to have something else already planned. Perhaps that’s why everything was resolved swiftly.