‘This is truly the end now.’

Carlos looked down at the head-of-house ring on his finger.

Sealed with his blood, it could never be removed unless his finger was cut off.

Finally, he had become the Duke of Da Vinci.

He had not lied to Annely the previous night. Taking his place on the ducal throne was something he had been waiting a long time for. And yet, now that it was finally his, it felt far less significant than he had imagined.

He knew why.

His rise had not been achieved by his own merit alone. Annely’s existence had been important.

His gaze drifted instinctively towards her, seated in the place of honor. She had never enjoyed banquets, and it had been a long time since he had seen her dressed with such care and attention to detail.

When he had gone to escort her earlier, he had been reminded once again, regardless of his own feelings, of how extraordinarily beautiful she was.

As he watched her now, a faint, unintentional scoff escaped him.

Her performance was flawless.

The only flaw was her beauty.

If she had been even slightly less beautiful, he might have believed that she truly loved him. But because she was so beautiful, he had never been deceived — not even by such perfect acting.

‘Should I be grateful?’
‘After all, it was thanks to her that I became a duke.’

The Grand Duke of Chabette would never have permitted his only daughter to marry a b*stard with nothing but a barony to his name. Instead, he swiftly elevated Carlos to the rank of duke.

It had been exactly as Carlos had expected.

For the past three years, he had paid the price for that elevation in full, without making a single mistake.

Now, he no longer needed to pretend to love her.

Having come to this decision, Carlos tore his gaze away from Annely without hesitation and continued with the rest of the succession ceremony.

When it ended, thunderous applause filled the hall. Carlos stood a step above the crowd, looking down at them.

No one here would have imagined—

— the wretched beggar who had entered the House of Da Vinci nearly twenty years ago would one day ascend to the ducal seat.

Exhilaration surged through him, and he unconsciously searched for Annely in the crowd.

He wanted her to see it.

She should see that the man who had spent the past three years awkwardly pretending to be affectionate was now a duke.

The man who had once been torn apart for daring to reach for a noblewoman’s hand now stood as a duke.

‘What kind of eyes will you look at me with?’
‘Will you still wear that damned expression of indulgent mercy?’

He wanted to tell her.

He wanted to tell her that the pitiful man who had married her, feigning love solely to deceive the Emperor, had finally become a duke.

But Annely was not looking at him.

While everyone else had their eyes fixed on him, she lifted her head and gazed up at the blue sky.

The triumphant expression on Carlos’s face slowly stiffened.

As she looked at the sky, he found himself looking only at her.

Without realizing it, he bit down hard on his lip. The metallic taste of blood spread across his tongue, but it no longer mattered.

There was no need to keep his eyes on her alone anymore.

The performance was over.

He was free.

Forcing his gaze away from Annely, Carlos drew his rigid lips into a smile.

***

“Duchess.”

At the familiar voice, Annely turned her head.

“Ronan.”

Facing the young man in his early thirties, Annely observed proper courtesy. Though Ronan was no more than a baron by rank—far too low to warrant such formality from her—he was Emperor Tedor’s closest aide and the chief chamberlain of the imperial palace.

“Have you been well? His Majesty specifically instructed me to ask after the Duchess’s condition today.”

At the mention of Tedor, a smile formed at Annely’s lips.

“I’ve been well. And His Majesty? Has his health been all right lately?”

The Emperor’s health was not usually a topic for casual conversation. However, as Annely, the Emperor’s only cousin with whom he had grown up in the palace, was asking, Ronan merely lowered his voice slightly as he answered.

“He is doing well. However, he hasn’t fully recovered from the previous cold he caught, so he’s been coughing quite a lot.”

Remembering how much Tedor had suffered from coughing in the past, Annely could not help but worry.

“Is it severe? What did the palace physicians say?”

“He’s been taking medicine, and the coughing has eased somewhat. I believe he should recover fully within a few days.”

“Even so, he must be careful. One shouldn’t underestimate a cold. Please make sure to tell His Majesty that.”

Ronan nodded with a smile.

“I will. Though I may need to make use of the Duchess for that. His Majesty scarcely listens to anyone else’s words.”

Annely found her thoughts drifting back to old memories — memories of her cousin, who had always cherished her.

Although she was of royal blood, growing up in the palace without parents had not been easy. Nevertheless, the frail crown prince, seven years her senior, insisted on keeping her by his side as his playmate. Thanks to him, she was able to live safely within the imperial palace and was treated with greater care than a princess.

Tedor had been born delicate and plagued by illness from an early age. With his sensitive temperament, even the late Emperor and Empress had found him difficult to manage.

Yet to his only cousin, Tedor had always been unfailingly kind.

At some point, it became Annely’s responsibility to check on his health and ensure he took his medication. She continued this habit for so long that it never faded, even after she married and left the palace.

“If there is ever anything concerning His Majesty’s health, please feel free to call on me. And if he refuses to listen, tell him I’ll come in person to scold him, so he’d better be prepared.”

Ronan smiled at her words, then studied Annely more closely.

Although Tedor had asked him to enquire about her, Ronan knew that he was looking for more than just a simple reply.

Annely looked tired. For some reason, she seemed drained of vitality.

Ronan recalled that Carlos had not visited her for several days, citing his busy schedule. He suspected that was why her complexion looked so poor.

‘So she truly loves the Duke.’

Thinking of his master, Ronan could not help but smile bitterly.

After all, this was precisely what his master had wanted.

He wanted Annely to meet a healthy man, fall in love and live happily ever after.

All Ronan had to do was report that Annely was doing well.

Eager to please his master further, Ronan tried to find out more about Annely’s current life.

“Duchess, is your hobby still the same—”

“Annely.”

At that moment, a low voice cut off Ronan’s words.

Carlos—who must have approached without notice—wrapped a firm arm around Annely’s shoulders.

“Were you talking with a baron?”

Startled, Annely’s eyes widened as she looked up at him.

“Why—…”

The word slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it.

Although Ronan acted as the Emperor’s eyes and ears, the succession ceremony had already concluded without incident. There was no reason for Carlos to behave this way now.

Even during the past three years, when everything between them had been an act, he had never displayed such overt intimacy in public. Annely’s body stiffened instinctively.

“Annely, what’s wrong? Are you still not feeling well?”

As he spoke, he tightened his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer to him. It was then that Annely came back to herself.

Carlos seemed to have decided to maintain the pretense rather than change his attitude outright. He had no intention of inviting rumors of discord in a public place.

So Annely played along.

“No. I’m just a little tired.”

Ronan, who had been observing them carefully, bowed toward Carlos.

“My congratulations to you, Duke of Da Vinci. His Majesty sent me to convey his felicitations.”

“I see. You were speaking only with Annely, so I thought you’d come to see her rather than me.”

Carlos disliked Ronan.

Annely knew that well, so she gave Ronan a small glance of apology and took hold of Carlos’s hand.

“My love, let’s return to the banquet hall now. Everyone will be waiting.”

Holding Annely’s hand, Carlos walked past Ronan.

Ronan raised his gaze from where it had been lowered and followed them with his eyes.

At first glance, the two men appeared to be a perfect match.

Carlos had been a renowned figure even before becoming the young Duke of Da Vinci. In a society that valued pure bloodlines above all else, his rise to the status of war hero had sent shockwaves through the empire. Furthermore, Carlos was the first illegitimate child in imperial history to be granted a title directly by the Emperor. Despite his blemished lineage, he inspired envy and admiration with his unforgettable face.

Meanwhile, Annely was the Emperor’s only cousin — the daughter of the late Emperor’s younger brother, Grand Duke Chabette.

The affection shown to her by the Emperor and Grand Duke was well known throughout the empire. Nobles admired Annely for her flawless bloodline, beauty, and gentle disposition.

Their marriage attracted immense attention and blessings.

The couple, whose every action once sent ripples through high society, now walked before his eyes.

Whenever Annely spoke, Carlos bent slightly at the waist. In response, she rose onto her toes just a little. Neither of them seemed to be aware of this, yet they were unconsciously adjusting to each other.

They looked like the perfect couple.

And yet, the world around them would not leave them in peace.

Ronan swallowed an inexplicable sigh as he watched them walk away.

One was his master.

The other was his master’s wife.

Neither was someone a mere chamberlain like him could afford to speak of — or even think of — lightly.

Soon after, Ronan followed them into the banquet hall.