Daphne doubted her ears for a moment and asked again. Instead, Astaire asked back, like he’d said something he shouldn’t have.

Whether calling warm words so coldly could be considered a skill—if it was a skill at all.

“Stop biting that.”

Astaire pressed her lips firmly with his thumb. Only then did Daphne realize. She’d bitten her lips hard enough to draw blood.

When he saw Daphne unconscious.

Astaire felt his soul drain completely from his body.

“Daphne, Daphne!”

He grabbed his wife’s arm and shook it frantically. Even then, he couldn’t bring himself to slap Daphne to wake her up.

No matter how much he called, she wouldn’t wake.

That’s when it started.

Astaire carried her on his back again and ran toward the houses, out of his mind.

“There’s an injured person! Do you have any spare rooms?”

Even with an adult woman on his back, he showed no signs of exhaustion. He pounded on doors indiscriminately, and that’s how he was able to care for Daphne at the home of a woman who used to be a nurse and her husband.

“Daphne, wake up!”

“She seems to have lost consciousness briefly from exhaustion. She doesn’t appear seriously injured.”

“Shouldn’t we call a doctor!”

“Don’t worry, she just looks like she’s sleeping.”

He was practically in a state of lost reason then. His face calling her name looked devastated, like someone who’d lost everything.

“Her fever won’t break.”

Even after giving her fever medicine they had on hand and wiping her body with a wet cloth, her body remained burning hot like a fireball.

Astaire suffered anxiety every moment, like walking a tightrope on a thin line. He’d rather go completely mad.

The bird he’d been raising had died.

The thought alone was horrifying.

Rather, if he’d been the one to kill that bird.

He couldn’t stand the fact that some mere wild beast had hurt Daphne.

He should have put a bullet through its heart, not its eye.

Astaire glared at the single-shot revolver, now out of bullets, with burning eyes.

Click, click, click.

No matter how many times he pulled the trigger with his index finger, only empty sounds came out.

Even knowing that thinking about the past now was meaningless.

That woman kept making him dwell on himself.

Made him conflicted, made him agonize.

What was this woman anyway?

What was this woman to him?

He clenched his fist until his hand turned white.

He knew Daphne wouldn’t die.

But just the fact that the woman had her eyes closed, lying still in bed, drove him crazy.

Open your eyes right now.

Open your eyes and look at me.

Look at me with those sky-blue eyes.

If he could, he wanted to scream that.

That night, even as it grew late, Astaire couldn’t fall asleep. He lay in bed staring at the ceiling, then finally sat up.

In the darkness, his face had grown slightly pale. He’d lost a bit of weight, but because of that, his face had become even cooler and sharper than usual. Now even a dark air hung about him. 

Recently, shadows were beginning to form under his eyes.

Astaire rubbed his eyes and left the room, opening the door.

“…Daphne?”

The moment he saw light streaming from Daphne’s room, his destination was already decided.

Entering, Daphne had finally regained consciousness and was sitting on the bed.

“Are you okay?”

Suddenly, an indescribable emotion surged up inside him. The man buried this emotion he couldn’t even define deep in his heart.

No, she couldn’t be okay.

After going through such an ordeal.

And had she had nightmares while sleeping? Looking at her again, her lips had scabs on them.

Astaire quietly clenched his fist.

He was angry. Fury rose at Daphne for tormenting him. Everything would be solved if she just stayed by his side, but he didn’t like how she kept trying to run away instead.

His wife still needed to learn.

How harsh the world was.

How warm and comfortable his embrace was.

That the only place for her to stay was in his grasp.

This time, he would make it crystal clear.

“…That’s not liking someone.”

“Then what?”

“You just want to possess me, Your Grace.”

“What’s the difference?”

It was just wordplay that didn’t matter much anyway. Astaire narrowed his eyes, displeased with Daphne catching his words.

“It’s different, Your Grace.”

A bitter shadow crossed her face. What could that expression mean?

Why was she making that face?

Astaire grew angry even at her trivial changes that meant nothing.

“I’ve changed my mind.”

While she was unconscious, Astaire had thought a lot. In the end, if what she wanted was that d*mn love.

He would give her love. That love—he could give it a million times over.

The man still didn’t understand love.

An emotion neither visible nor tangible.

Such things were meaningless.

Rather, if love was defined as giving a million diamonds, he could understand that.

What did it even mean to love someone? Treating them kindly? Weren’t love confessions to lovers ultimately just sweet talk?

Everything was temporary.

Even family turned their backs in the face of money and power.

Astaire was still confused. He hated that confusion. He had to do everything perfectly as much as possible. He’d lived his whole life that way. And he planned to continue living that way.

“What is love, Daphne?”

Looking down at the woman who once craved love from him, Astaire whispered quietly.

As expected, that question seemed difficult for Daphne too.

Daphne sat silently with a distorted expression.

“You don’t need to answer, Daphne.”

If mere worries like this would upset her.

Astaire raised his hand and lifted the corners of her mouth.

“Smile.”

“Why?”

“Because when you smile, I feel good too.”

Then Daphne’s face contorted. Like she was asking if what she heard was real. Her brow furrowed, but Astaire lifted the corners of her mouth, creating a strange expression.

“Looking at you makes even smiles that were about to come out go back in.”

“Why?”

This time it was Astaire’s turn to stiffen his expression. He showed a genuinely shocked face.

“I trust you know why.”

Daphne didn’t readily tell him the reason. Like it was a problem Astaire had to solve himself.

Heavy silence descended between them.

Only their even breathing filled the quiet room. Somewhere outside the window, insects chirped.

Suddenly Daphne asked. “Why did you bother saving me?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“…Even if I’d just been torn apart by that bear, it wouldn’t have mattered to you, Your Grace.”

“Why do you think it wouldn’t matter?”

Astaire unconsciously tensed his fist. He didn’t want to imagine such a thing.

The option of abandoning Daphne had never existed from the start.

Because he was certain he could live with her.

If he couldn’t protect her from one wild beast, he would have neither the qualification nor value as ‘Astaire Seyfried.’

That’s what he believed.

Even if he died someday, he was certain it wouldn’t be from something like a mere bear attack.

“But then all the many secrets of yours that I know would also become nothing.”

Ah.

Only then did Astaire understand her words and let out a short sigh.

So what?

He’d never once thought Daphne would betray him.

Even if she left him.

“…You said you didn’t trust me.”

Astaire was momentarily dazed.

Right.

He didn’t trust her.

But even so, he’d never thought she was the kind of person who would reveal the ducal family’s secrets for gain after leaving him.

Completely unlike his usual behavior of always suspecting people and thoroughly investigating even after they left to ensure no security leaks.

Why on earth?

He didn’t trust this woman.

Yet he naturally assumed this woman would keep his secrets.

Astaire found it hard to bear this contradiction in himself.

He stared at Daphne for a moment, then grabbed her chin and took her lips.

“Mmph!”

Daphne let out a heated breath at the sudden kiss.

Astaire pressed their lips together again, like even that breath escaping was too precious to waste.

Soft flesh took in even softer flesh. A rough tongue swept over gums and teeth, then entwined with another tongue.

Daphne tried to escape from him for a moment. The more she did, the more fiercely Astaire pursued her.

Finally, Daphne was caught by him.

Astaire had no intention of ever letting her go.

This would be the only escape.

And now that she’d returned to him, she would become completely his.

Even if she hated it, this woman was his.

Astaire could know anything he wanted to know. But only this woman’s heart remained unknowable.

Why on earth?

What was this woman?

For some reason, he needed to know why.

He thought it was just that kind of obsession.

This couldn’t be that d*mn love people talked about.

“Haa.”

Daphne grabbed his collar and pulled.

Astaire supported her with his firm hand so her waist wouldn’t bend too far back.

On the wall, two shadows that had been apart merged into one.

More than a month had already passed since Daphne left him.

During that time, Astaire didn’t hastily satisfy his thirst for this woman, but advanced slowly, one step at a time.

Daphne also realized anew.

How much she’d lived conditioned by this man.

When she pulled his collar, Astaire was naturally drawn to her.

Likewise, when he pulled her nape, she naturally pressed against him.

When kissing, they kissed like only each other existed in this world.

She felt the warmth starting from their mouths gradually flowing through her entire body.

Suddenly Daphne came to her senses.

She mustn’t forget.

That this man was completely insane.

Yet she couldn’t stop right away.

At least this time, for the first time, this kiss felt sincere rather than an act.

It was ironic.

Now, after running from him and being caught, she was experiencing sincerity in a kiss with this man.

Suddenly, Daphne wondered if Astaire was thinking the same thing as her right now.

The moment his lips dug into her soft lips, her head filled completely with this man.

This feeling wasn’t very good.

She needed to be on guard.

She mustn’t be swayed by him.

“…Stop.”

Daphne expected Astaire to push forward even if she said that. But he didn’t.