Annely rose to her feet without noticing Carlos’s gaze on her. Heading toward the door, she turned back when he didn’t follow.

“Aren’t you coming?”

“…I will.”

Carlos followed her out of the room. As the third floor was mostly empty, Annely had stored her paintings in the adjoining room.

As she stepped inside, she was glad she had kept Carlos’s portrait separate and tucked away in her dressing room. If she hadn’t, he would have seen it, and she didn’t want to imagine the consequences.

This was the first time she had ever shown her paintings to anyone, and she glanced at Carlos awkwardly.

“They’re just sketches I did casually. I’m not very skilled.”

But to Carlos, they were far beyond anything he could ever hope to imitate. As he slowly took in the paintings, something caught his attention, prompting him to step closer.

“The North?”

“That’s right.”

Standing a couple of steps away, Annely looked at the painting Carlos was studying.

“When I first started learning to paint, I was told that the north was incredibly beautiful in winter. The first painting I ever made was of the north.”

She liked that painting, with its northern landscape blanketed in pristine snow, but she never painted it again. Even as a child, she could tell that the late emperor and empress disliked it when they saw it.

Lost in those memories, Annely drifted closer to the painting without realizing it. She stopped beside Carlos and studied the image with an unreadable gaze.

She had always believed that she was indifferent to the north. But now, upon reflection, she realized that she had liked it since childhood.

The northern scenery. The untouched white snow. The warmth of fur-lined clothes.

However, because those in power within the imperial family disliked anything associated with the north, Annely had, at some point, begun to turn away from it.

‘So I did… like it.’

At that first, quiet realization, Annely blinked slowly.

“There are only landscapes.”

Carlos said, having finished looking through all the paintings.

“You don’t draw people?”

“…I’m not good enough to do portraits.”

Annely deliberately pushed the image of an unfinished portrait out of her mind.

“You’ve seen everything, so let’s go.”

The moment she acknowledged that she had once liked the North, unease crept into her heart. As if fleeing, Annely opened her bedroom door, then looked back at Carlos.

“I won’t see you out. You should go now.”

She turned as if to leave, but Carlos stepped closer, causing her to falter and retreat. Still holding the doorknob, she was pushed back as the door swung open.

Carlos slipped through the gap and sat down on the sofa as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Annely blinked in shock, then suddenly came to her senses.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I told you not to come at night. I never said you couldn’t stay until night.”

“You—!”

Annely was momentarily at a loss for words at his shamelessness. While her lips parted uselessly, Carlos lay back on the sofa.

“I’m sleeping here, so do as you please.”

With that, he closed his eyes.

Realizing it was pointless to reason with him, Annely summoned Amber. When she entered the room and saw Carlos sprawled across the sofa, she froze with surprise. However, when Annely offered no explanation, Amber quietly helped her to get ready for bed.

After finishing her bath, Annely peeked out from the bedroom, her gaze drifting towards the sofa. All she could see was his head resting against the armrest and his long legs extending far beyond it.

She let out a silent sigh, blew out all the candles, and slipped into bed. Even though Carlos was in another room, it felt as though he were right beside her.

Unaccustomed to sharing her nights, Annely tossed and turned in discomfort before finally drifting off. Just before her heavy eyelids closed, she thought she glimpsed a blurred shadow, but she soon sank into a deep sleep.

Huff. With a faint rush of air, the light went out.

At that same moment, Carlos opened his tightly shut eyes.

He turned his head to watch Annely feel her way through the darkness before she disappeared into the bedroom.

The faint scent of her perfume lingered in the air. Carlos blinked slowly, breathing it in as it gradually faded.

When he focused, he could sense Annely tossing and turning in her sleep. It took quite some time before she finally settled. Only once her breathing had steadied did Carlos rise from the sofa.

The bedroom door was closed but not locked, making it far too easy for him to go to her.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he looked down at her, asleep and curled up.

“Is this trust… or just innocence…?”

Lowering his head, Carlos lightly sucked at her neck, then grazed it with his teeth.

“Mmm.”

As Annely flinched and pulled her shoulders up in an uneasy gesture, Carlos leaned in and gently kissed the skin just above her shoulder blade.

Her skin was soft and warm, and smelt faintly of perfume, teasing his senses. He pulled back and slipped into the bed as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Only when he drew Annely into his arms did the hollow feeling inside him finally ease, as if something long missing had at last been filled.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck and closed his eyes.

Just before sleep claimed him, a sudden realization surfaced: contrary to what Knox had reported, one painting was missing.

***

Ronan walked down the silent corridor.

The ornate hallway, befitting the dignity of the imperial palace, stretched on in solemn grandeur, but he moved briskly through it, paying it no attention.

When he reached the office doors, he knocked in a measured rhythm. He waited briefly, then opened the door and stepped inside.

“We’ve received a report from the agent stationed in the main building. The duke visited the young lady again. Additionally, she suddenly went to the annex and collected her paintings.”

Inside, Tedor was listening to his subordinate’s report. Without acknowledging the exchange — as though he had seen and heard nothing — Ronan quietly approached Tedor’s side and poured ginger tea into the now-empty cup.

“Hm.”

Tedor nodded slightly and lifted his cup.

A week ago, on the day of the banquet, Carlos took Annely by the arm and hurried her back to the ducal residence. Even without a report, it was clear that the two had argued.

As expected, Carlos did not visit Annely afterwards, and their cold war ended exactly a week later.

Tedor flicked his fingers and slowly closed his eyes.

‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have sent the ointment…’

He was fully aware that it had been an impulsive decision. Yet the vivid red mark left on Annely’s pale neck was so striking that he could not stop thinking about it.

Lost in thought, Tedor finally waved his hand towards his subordinate.

“You may go.”

Only after the subordinate withdrew in silence did Ronan take a letter from inside his coat and place it on the desk.

“It’s from Lord Fedric.”

“Oh?”

Tedor raised an eyebrow and opened the letter.

Written in a light hand that perfectly reflected Fedric’s personality, the letter was brief—but its contents were anything but simple. Even so, Tedor read it carefully without much change in expression.

[It seems the barbarian king is finally making his move.]

[They’ve been lying low for a long time, waiting for the right opportunity.]

By nature, the barbarians waged wars large and small every year. However, eight years ago, when Carlos killed the previous king and a young successor ascended the throne, they had fallen quiet while reorganizing.

[This winter may be the last peaceful one for a while.]

For several years, reports from the Grand Duke had indicated that the movements of the barbarians were becoming increasingly unusual. Tedor sensed it instinctively: the time had finally come.

The child king, who had waited silently for so long, had grown up. It was time for revenge.

Due to his frail body, Tedor would never be able to take part in the war himself. The Grand Duke had long been the North’s shield, but war was never something to be welcomed by a ruler.

Tedor gave a light cough, then swallowed his ginger tea instead of sighing. Ronan gently pressed his hands against Tedor’s shoulders.

“The next time you meet the young lady, you won’t have to endure her scolding.”

Aside from a lingering dry cough, the illness that had plagued him for months had improved considerably.

“She’s younger than I am, yet she nags endlessly.”

As Tedor thought of Annely, the corners of his mouth softened.

“And next time, she’ll be too busy meeting her family to have time to see me.”

Though Fedric’s letter lay open on the desk, his eyes did not dare drift toward it.

After calculating the timing, Ronan asked.

“So His Grace the Grand Duke and Lord Fedric are coming up?”

“Yes.”

Imagining Annely’s delight, Tedor let a faint smile form on his lips.