Annely used her illness as an excuse to stay in bed and calmly organize her thoughts.

She did not want to act on impulse. This was why she was considering everything carefully, one step at a time: when to demand a divorce, and what reason to give.

Annely habitually rested a hand just above her scar, curling inward.

If she had one regret about travelling through time, it was the timing.

Carlos had not been affectionate, but outwardly, he had been an exemplary husband. He always made time for her and put her first. At night, he held her with a fervor that left no room for doubt.

Sometimes it was overwhelming, but those moments — when she was in his arms — were what Annely cherished most. They were the only times the usually cold Carlos became warm, and the moments when she felt most clearly that she was loved.

Because they shared his bed so often, Annely conceived quickly — within six months of their marriage.

The problem was that she fell down the stairs before she could find out about the pregnancy.

All that remained was the scar on her abdomen.

Although she had miscarried, Annely did not dwell on the loss. She was sad, but they were still young. She believed they had plenty of time.

Yet until the moment she died, no angel ever visited her again.

The miscarriage had damaged her womb, making pregnancy difficult — that was the reason.

So, when Ribesha appeared before her with a swollen belly, Annely was overwhelmed with emotion.

‘If only I could go back to that time…’

How wonderful that would have been!

Anneli squeezed her eyes shut, then slowly opened them again. Contrary to everyone’s concerns, she had recovered quickly from the miscarriage.

Was it because she had never even known the child existed? Or because she believed she would conceive again soon?

She could no longer remember the reason clearly.

All she knew was that, afterwards, she found it difficult to look down from high staircases, and she developed the habit of gripping the railing and descending one step at a time.

“Annely.”

At the sound of a dry voice, a deep shadow fell over her body.

“I heard you haven’t left your room since yesterday. Are you really all right?”

It sounded almost genuinely concerned, and Annely nearly let out a scoff at herself.

‘Get a grip. Even at this very moment, that man loves the woman in the imperial palace.’

“I’m just… a little tired.”

Annely unfolded her curled body and turned her head.

Just as she had seen the day before, Carlos was sitting by the bed. Fortunately, he was standing with the light behind him, obscuring his face.

This gave Annely courage.

She reached out towards him. When her fingertips touched his warm skin, she felt him flinch.

“And you? Are all the preparations for tomorrow finished?”

“…Yes. They are.”

Carlos took hold of Annely’s small, lukewarm hand that rested against his cheek and gently pulled it away.

Watching him naturally release her hand, Annely smiled.

“How do you feel?”

“From tomorrow on, you won’t have to love me anymore—how does that sound?”

“….”

“…What does it feel like to become a duke?”

“It’s something I’ve waited for a long time. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Aren’t you happy?”

‘You don’t have to love me anymore—aren’t you happy?’

“Well. I suppose it feels less significant than I expected.”

At his indifferent answer, Annely finally laughed.

It really was just like him.

“Will my father be coming tomorrow?”

It was Annely’s father, the Grand Duke Chabette, who was responsible for guarding the borderlands. Beyond this desolate, freezing territory lived foreign tribes, and the border had long been unstable. Consequently, Annely was raised in the imperial palace, far from her family.

In truth, she had scarcely seen her family at all.

The only request she had ever made of her father was to marry Carlos.

Tomorrow was the day of Carlos’s succession ceremony. Grand Duke Chabette had more than sufficient reason to attend.

“I sent a letter to His Majesty, but I haven’t received a reply yet.”

It was the same answer as before.

If she hadn’t noticed the faintest flicker in his eyes, wavering for a split second before settling, she would have believed him without doubt.

Just as in the past, Annely pretended not to notice.

Instead, she tightened her grip and guided Carlos’s hand to her cheek.

“My love… will you hold me?”

Annely had never forgotten that moment.

After embracing Carlos the night before the succession ceremony, she did not sleep in his bed again for two years.

Being with him was pleasant. More than anything, she did not have to think about anything at all, and at that time, that was what she needed most.

Carlos was not particularly startled by her sudden request. Over the past few days, his behavior must have made her feel uneasy. She had also recently been unwell. It was only natural that she would seek reassurance from him.

Having entered countless relationships over the past three years without any emotional attachment, kissing her this time posed no difficulty.

Yet, at that moment, Carlos felt that same sense of déjà vu once more.

As before, he failed to grasp its cause, choosing instead to surrender to the pleasure that washed over him.

***

Annely dragged her heavy body around as she finished getting ready.

The succession ceremony was due to begin during the day, followed by a banquet, so she had to get up at dawn. Opening her eyes, which she had kept closed due to exhaustion, she saw a familiar woman reflected in the mirror.

“Milady, you look absolutely beautiful today!”

Amber exclaimed as she adjusted Annely’s clothing.

Gazing at her reflection, Annely lifted a hand to her cheek. The woman in the mirror — with golden, melt-in-the-touch hair and delicate, violet eyes — was undeniably beautiful.

Yet another face surfaced in Annely’s mind.

Brilliant crimson hair, overwhelming in its splendor.

Intense green eyes.

The sharp, catlike gaze of Ribesha.

Thinking of her, Annely felt that it was perhaps a blessing that she looked nothing like that woman.

If there had been even the slightest resemblance, she might have deluded herself into thinking that Carlos had agreed to the marriage because of her appearance.

Compared to such a fantasy, the truth — that it was for the sake of the ducal title — was far easier to accept.

“Are you all ready?”

“Yes. The duke will be here shortly!”

Before Amber could finish speaking, the sound of the door opening echoed through the room.

In this ducal residence, there was only one person who could open Annely’s door so freely.

“Annely.”

Carlos approached her, calling her name. Annely swept her gaze over him. Unlike usual, he was wearing his ceremonial uniform, with his dark hair slicked back to reveal his broad forehead.

The line from his forehead to the bridge of his nose was both masculine and refined, and his slightly upturned eyes and thin lips were undeniably attractive.

Yet Annely’s attention was fixed on the handkerchief in his hand.

Seeing the embroidered red rose, she reached out and took it from him without hesitation.

“That doesn’t suit you.”

She had thought the same in the past but had never acted on it. Had she known that the woman loved red roses as much as she did, however, she would not have pretended not to notice.

Ignoring Carlos’s reaction, Annely opened a drawer and took out another handkerchief. She slipped the handkerchief embroidered with violets — a gift from her past self — into his br*ast pocket, then lifted her gaze to meet his.

“I hate roses.”

She had thought the same in the past, she simply had not bothered to reach out.

Even then, if she had known that woman liked red roses as much as she did, she would not have pretended not to see.

Carlos looked down at her with an unreadable expression.

“Today is a very important day for me too. Let’s use this one.”

“…You hate roses?”

Carlos murmured her words, seemingly unconcerned that she had changed the handkerchief at will.

“I thought you liked roses.”

Annely’s body stiffened.

For a moment, anger nearly surged up her throat. The words—Are you really confusing your first love’s tastes with your wife’s?—rose to her lips, but she swallowed them down.

“I hate them. I hate roses most of all.”

Nodding firmly, Annely linked her arm through Carlos’s.

“Let’s go now. Everyone will be waiting.”

“How are you feeling?”

As they left the room, he asked a question and Annely’s thoughts naturally turned to the previous evening.

Perhaps because she knew it would be the last time, she had clung to him more than usual that night.

Carlos had always held the upper hand in their relationship. Early in their marriage, Annely had fainted several times, and after that, Carlos had been careful to restrain himself, ensuring that it would never happen again.

It was the first time Annely had ever reached for him first.

That was why there had never been a night like the one before, when they lost all reason and became so completely entangled.

Only after Annely finally lost consciousness did Carlos realize his mistake.

Seeing her like this, with fatigue still visible despite the makeup, he asked without thinking.

“I’m fine.”

Annely responded with a smile, and the pair soon arrived at the location of the succession ceremony.

Seated in the place of honor, Annely blinked slowly as she watched Carlos walk away. The surrounding noise faded, leaving Carlos alone in her field of vision.

When she finally saw him slide the signet ring of the House of Da Vinci onto his finger, she released the breath she had been holding.

Now—

It was truly over.