Even now, he was suffering like this.

Daphne—how much pain must she be in?

Astaire felt like his chest was being torn apart.

Still, he couldn’t explain to Daphne how the situation had turned out this way.

Why he’d kept Reina close.

“Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.”

Reina was both a friend and his enemy.

Had his relationship with Daphne been twisted from the start because he’d simply kept her nearby and watched?

It was like trying to find the beginning of a tangled ball of thread.

His mind was foggy like mist. Even reaching out, he couldn’t grasp anything.

He had to admit it now.

But he didn’t want to admit it to the very end.

Daphne.

That woman. No, that girl was his only failure.

She was the first person to hand him defeat in his battle against fate.

Knock knock.

“…Come in.”

Truthfully, Astaire didn’t want to let anyone in right now. Still, he held a small hope that perhaps Daphne would appear behind the door.

What a foolish thing to do.

“Your Grace, it’s me.”

As expected. The person who appeared wasn’t Daphne, but the head butler.

“…”

The head butler stood before him for a long while without speaking.

Somehow, the head butler couldn’t look Astaire straight in the eye. Only after Astaire frowned and silently urged him did the elderly butler finally open his mouth.

“Surely, there must be some circumstances.”

“…”

“The Duke I know wouldn’t be that kind of person.”

“Ha.”

If it were anyone else, he would’ve asked who they thought they were to give him advice.

But his counterpart was the head butler who’d looked after him since childhood. Perhaps he’d raised him more devotedly than his parents had. Someone he’d trusted for so long.

“…What should I do?”

For the first time, Astaire asked the head butler for advice.

That day, Daphne skipped dinner and went to sleep.

When she opened her eyes again, it was morning.

D*mn day. D*mn next day.

No matter what heart-wrenching events occurred, time flowed cruelly and faithfully, always leading her to the next day.

Somewhere at this moment, there must be someone experiencing their happiest moment.

Even while she was going through the worst moment of her life.

That day, Daphne found it especially painful to open her eyes.

“…I wish it had been a dream.”

Maybe she’d gone crazy from thinking too much about Astaire.

She even had thoughts like that.

Of course, this couldn’t all be a dream.

As soon as she left the bedroom, she could sense the unusually silent and cold atmosphere blanketing the estate.

Especially when she saw the head butler unable to meet her eyes while facing her.

“Good morning.”

“…Did you sleep well, my lady?”

Daphne deliberately acted like nothing was wrong.

Truthfully, it was closer to her heart being completely emptied out.

Seeing how her chest still ached like this, she must have held some hope for Astaire after all.

Now she truly had not a single expectation of him.

From now on, she would stop at nothing to bring Astaire down.

This too, she’d learned from him.

“You went to sleep without eating yesterday, so I’ll have the kitchen prepare breakfast.”

She wanted to tell the head butler, sweating profusely while looking at her, that he didn’t need to do that anymore.

Daphne smiled brightly.

It wasn’t a forced smile at all.

“By the way, His Grace.”

“Yes?”

“Did His Grace have dinner and sleep last night?”

The head butler’s pupils shook violently, his complexion pale. Understandably so.

After what happened yesterday, the next morning the Duchess was smiling brightly and asking after the Duke’s wellbeing.

The head butler wouldn’t find it strange to think the Duchess had finally lost her mind.

That’s right.

Daphne had completely lost it now.

“…I don’t think he did.”

“What about going to work?”

“I believe he has no schedule today.”

Daphne quietly raised an eyebrow. This too was unlike Astaire.

Based on her experience serving close to Astaire in the past, the man was so obsessed with work that he’d show up late even on the day a ducal relative held a funeral.

Thorough and relentless.

Yet now such a man was doing something he’d never done before.

She couldn’t understand it, but any attempt to understand Astaire even slightly had vanished after yesterday’s events.

The moment Daphne pulled up the corners of her mouth to smile, she saw the head butler flinch.

Like he was worried she might give him some outlandish order.

The head butler, who’d served at Duke Seyfried’s estate for so long, was skilled at controlling his emotions. No matter what he saw or heard, he always managed his expressions carefully.

The same was true for Daphne.

She too had lived nearly half her life controlling and regulating her emotions.

That’s why she could see so clearly how carefully the head butler was managing his expression.

Though even this was laughable now.

Was this truly the nobility’s pretense?

“I’m sick of it now.”

She was sick to death of nobility.

Though the head butler must have clearly heard Daphne’s quiet whisper, he still couldn’t say anything.

Daphne looked at him again and smiled sweetly. Then she said:

“If His Grace hasn’t had breakfast yet either, let’s have it together.”

“…Yes, I’ll convey that.”

The head butler quickly bowed and answered, hiding his surprise.

Daphne headed to the dining room first.

In her mind, she was weaving plans like a spider’s web on how to leave this house.

How to make that man, Astaire, let his guard down.

She considered that the key.

* * *

Daphne thought perhaps Astaire might refuse her proposal to have breakfast together.

But the man didn’t.

The dining room, far too spacious for two people, was endlessly silent without conversation.

Both being well-educated nobles, not even the small sounds of utensils moving could be heard.

Suffocating silence.

Daphne was the first to speak.

“Did you sleep well?”

A question she would never normally ask.

Astaire quietly raised his head and looked at Daphne.

“…Yes.”

Absolutely unlike Daphne’s behavior.

And absolutely unlike Astaire’s behavior.

That day, both of them engaged in strangely uncharacteristic actions.

Astaire silently put down the knife he was using to spread jam on bread and looked at Daphne.

A gaze burdensome just to receive.

Though Daphne knew, she deliberately pretended not to and focused only on picking up salad with her fork.

Then, the moment the man’s words fell:

“I’m sorry.”

Daphne nearly dropped her fork. But she calmly and quietly set down her utensils and looked at Astaire.

Making his apology meaningless, he was looking at her with endlessly dry eyes.

Meeting Astaire’s eyes, Daphne wanted to mock him.

Were those truly the eyes of someone apologizing?

It was hard to suppress the hollow laugh trying to escape.

“What are you sorry for?”

As expected, the answer didn’t come for a long while. Just when she thought so, Astaire opened his dry mouth.

“…Many things. Everything.”

Daphne blinked silently.

She knew too.

That he wasn’t just talking about yesterday’s events.

But.

“I envy you, Your Grace.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because you can dismiss everything with just a word.”

Astaire opened his mouth like he had something to say, but Daphne didn’t give him the chance.

“I’m not criticizing you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just understand you.”

“…”

“And I envy you too.”

Because he was born into that environment and lived his whole life that way.

An environment where ‘wrong’ didn’t exist.

An environment where even if he made mistakes, a single “I’m sorry” would solve everything.

For the first time, Daphne truly envied Astaire.

Because she’d never been given a second chance in her life.

Daphne continued with a sweet smile:

“Don’t worry about what happened yesterday.”

Suddenly, the green eyes facing her widened.

“Because I’ve forgotten it all now.”

Those words were sincere.

She’d decided to forget now.

Forget the past where Astaire existed, and only look forward.

“Your Grace.”

The voice calling him was endlessly peaceful without trembling.

Strange even to her own ears.

“No, Astaire.”

The widened eyes now even trembled.

Why are you looking at me with those eyes?

Daphne recited words that wouldn’t reach him internally.

Once upon a time, he told me…

“I told you many times that forms of address become habits.”

“It’s okay to call you this, right?”

“…Yes.”

Astaire answered a beat late.

Daphne picked up her fork again.

Then Astaire, who’d been watching, also began picking up his utensils again.

A relationship that suddenly seemed overturned.

Daphne was seized by a strange feeling.

But this wasn’t the end.

“Could you pass me the bread?”

Though she could reach out and get it herself, Daphne called to Astaire.

The man brought her the bread without complaint.

Daphne cut off a piece of bread and chewed it.

It was tough, like chewing rubber. Though surely the head chef’s carefully baked bread couldn’t be like that.

Before she knew it, Astaire was looking at her again.

Watching her eat bread.

Then, Daphne reached out her hand holding the piece of bread.

She brought it to the man’s mouth.

Even then, Astaire didn’t realize what Daphne was doing or saying. He just quietly raised his eyebrows.

And finally, Daphne said:

“The bread is delicious.”

So what about it?

But.

“Would you like to try some?”

Astaire was so surprised he unconsciously opened his mouth wide.

When she should be furious, she was saying the bread was delicious and offering him some.

He was confused by Daphne’s sudden change.

The wildly swinging emotions were brief.

Daphne pushed the piece of bread into Astaire’s open mouth.

“…It’s delicious.”

Surely it was the same bread as usual.

Strangely, it felt sweeter and softer than usual. Was it because this woman fed it to him?

Quietly, Astaire and Daphne’s eyes met in the air.

The moment her slender, soft fingers touched the flesh inside his mouth.

Astaire felt an intense dizziness for a moment.

He knew a woman’s fingers would be this soft, but somehow this time felt different.

Was it because the fingers belonged to Daphne?

“…It’s delicious.”

Astaire very slowly, leisurely chewed the bread Daphne had fed him.

Somehow, the more he chewed, the sweeter it became. It felt regrettable to swallow it down like this.

Was it because Daphne gave it to him?

It felt special.

This woman’s characteristic warm fragrance filled the dining room.