Carlos brought down two knights in the blink of an eye.

He moved so quickly that neither knight registered his movements before they were sent sprawling to the ground. He lifted his head and wiped the sweat sliding down his jaw with the back of his hand. His thin shirt clung to his drenched body, tracing the hard lines of his musculature with unforgiving clarity.

This was more indecent than if he had stripped outright, and Knox could only grow pale in the face of the heat radiating from him.

Carlos never skipped his daily hour of sparring, but today three hours had already passed. Knox had been standing at the training grounds for over thirty minutes but hadn’t dared approach him to deliver his report. The killing intent pouring off Carlos was unlike anything Knox had ever experienced.

Because of that oppressive aura, even the knights sparring with him were unable to display their full strength.

When Carlos finally sheathed his sword, he turned to look at the knights sprawled across the ground.

“From now on, double your training hours.”

They were all men who had fought alongside Carlos on the battlefield, and they were by no means lacking in skill. However, compared to Carlos, they were inferior, although they were still strong enough to easily defeat imperial knights.

Nevertheless, they had lost to him. They rose at once, bowing their heads and accepting the order without protest.

“What is it?”

Only then did Carlos notice Knox, his brow furrowing. He had been so focused on sparring that he had not even realized Knox was there.

As his already hardened expression darkened further, Knox swallowed dryly.

“It was not an urgent matter, so I did not report immediately.”

“Speak.”

“Madam visited the annex.”

Knox continued his report.

“She brought back the paintings from the studio.”

“Is that all?”

Carlos ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair. After such prolonged sparring, his muscles stood out more sharply than usual and the fabric of his shirt was pulled so taut that it looked as though it might tear with even the slightest movement.

Knox did not dare lift his head.

“She carried an old box herself, and Amber brought one painting. It seemed those two items were the ones she cherished most.”

It was nothing significant, but Knox, who had been responsible for reporting on Annely for the past three years, was aware of that. When it came to Annely, even the slightest irregularity had to be reported.

Carlos never got angry with Knox, even when it truly amounted to nothing. It was better to be thorough and not overlook the smallest detail than to be careless and make a mistake.

As expected, Carlos did not dismiss it as trivial. He mulled it over quietly.

“Go.”

“Yes, my lord.”

After Knox had withdrawn, Carlos looked up at the sky.

Although the afternoon remained clear and blue, there were already signs that dusk was approaching. With autumn drawing to a close, it would take no more than an hour for the sun to set.

Judging the time, Carlos decided to bathe immediately before going to find Annely.

There was no need to knock. He entered at once and caught sight of her back as she leaned against the sofa.

Her hair was loosely pinned up, leaving her pale, flawless nape completely exposed.

Carlos came to an abrupt halt at the sight, his gaze fixed on the long, slender line of her neck.

A week had already passed.

A full week since they had spoken about parting. Time felt both fleeting and unbearably slow. To Carlos, it seemed as though it had happened months ago; yet, at the same time, the memory remained so vivid that it felt as though it had occurred only moments before.

He instinctively quietened his presence and stepped closer. Annely was rummaging through something. Disinterested in the old box, he rested a hand on the back of the sofa and bent down to examine her neck.

The mark he had once secretly left there had disappeared without a trace.

Displeased by this, he reached out and touched the spot where it had been.

Startled by the sudden contact, Annely flinched, turned her head and hastily covered her neck. When she realized it was Carlos, her eyes widened further still.

“Why are you here?”

Ignoring her reaction, Carlos straightened and took a seat across from her.

“It’s not like I’ve come somewhere I’m forbidden to be.”

Annely closed the box and looked at him with wary eyes.

“I told you not to come.”

“You told me not to come at night, didn’t you?”

Carlos gave a faint shrug and turned towards the window. Following his gaze, Annely looked up at the sky, where the sun had not yet set. Her expression slowly hardened.

She had not expected Carlos to exploit such a loophole.

What Annely had meant back then was simple: they would no longer share a bed. Without any other kind of relationship between them, she had assumed he would stop coming altogether.

As he hadn’t appeared for the past week, she had completely let her guard down.

Even so, she had no reason to drive him away. Steadying her racing heart, Annely let out a quiet sigh.

“…Why did you come?”

“I just felt like it.”

Unlike her own tension, Carlos remained utterly relaxed, unbothered. Annely gently bit her lip as she studied him, trying to discern his purpose—but finding no answer.

“…I have nothing to say to you.”

To be precise, she did not want to see him.

Perhaps because she had discovered the painting she had forgotten today, her emotions were already unsettled. With Carlos appearing on top of that, the tightness in her chest only grew worse.

“How are you feeling?”

Carlos brushed past her words and asked lightly. At the casual question, Annely realized how meaningless her heightened wariness had been and relaxed her stiff body.

“I’ve been fine for a while now.”

“You should recover quickly. If you’re still unwell by the next banquet, I might end up getting scolded by His Majesty again.”

Annely almost bristled at the cutting remark, but, remembering Tedor’s behavior last time, she kept quiet.

He had not relaxed his vigilance towards Carlos at all. If he had the chance, he would not hesitate to send someone to the ducal house.

Annely did not want to provide that opportunity.

Since Carlos was right, she nodded.

“Alright.”

Carlos’s brow furrowed when Annely accepted it without protest.

He had said it deliberately, to provoke her and test the wariness he knew she still felt towards him. Yet her unexpected compliance left him with a hollow feeling, as though he had thrown a punch at empty air.

Of course. It was only natural that she would rather not trouble the person she loved than argue with a mere bastard like him.

The urge to sneer by invoking Tedor melted away. Carlos looked away and picked up the box that Annely had put down, lifting the lid.

“This is…”

Seeing the assorted, unimpressive odds and ends—things far too trivial for Annely to treasure—an old memory surfaced.

“This is a secret I’m telling only you. I have a treasure box.”

Even though no one else was around, Annely had leaned close and whispered into his ear.

“They’re things filled with precious memories to me. I’ll show them to you someday.”

Carlos immediately realized that this must be that very treasure box.

Perhaps because she had grown up surrounded by priceless and extravagant things, Annely had always had this oddly whimsical side to her.

“Don’t touch it without permission.”

Annely took the box back and hugged it to herself.

While he had been lost in thought, Carlos thought he might have glimpsed a necklace inside—something strangely familiar, something he felt he had seen before, yet could not recall.

But under Annely’s sharp gaze, the image slipped from his mind before it could take shape.

“So you brought paintings back? Funny—I feel like I’ve never once seen you paint.”

“…I don’t like painting. I only did it occasionally.”

“Where are they?”

As Carlos rose from his seat and asked, Annely blurted out, flustered.

“You want to see them?”

“Why not?”

So shameless was his tone that Annely did not even have the presence of mind to feel indignant.

“…I don’t want to show you.”

Carlos, who had not truly expected otherwise, smiled lightly.

“Well, I wouldn’t know what I’m looking at anyway.”

Within the ducal household, Carlos was an unwanted illegitimate child who was not cared for. Consequently, he never received a proper education. By the time he was old enough to understand his situation, he had already been sent to the battlefield. It was only after he was granted a barony that he learned the basics of etiquette.

Even then, his training was brief. Music and art — the fundamental accomplishments expected of every noble — were things he had never truly learnt.

To Carlos, music was just noise and art was merely images. He knew nothing of either. He thought it was only natural that Annely would not want to show her paintings to someone incapable of appreciating them properly.

However, that was not the reason Annely had refused, and the misunderstanding left her feeling uneasy.

After a moment of hesitation, she finally let out a quiet sigh.

“I’ll show you.”

At her unexpected answer, Carlos looked up at Annely.