Carlos froze where he stood.

Eight years ago, during the war against the foreign tribes, he had beheaded the enemy king, earning him great merit. Because of that, the resentment those tribes harbored towards him ran as deep as their hatred for the Grand Duke of Chabette.

They had sent assassins and spies without cease, but Carlos, ever vigilant, had never fallen for their schemes. He had eliminated every last one of them.

After marrying Annely, Carlos became even more exacting about who was permitted to enter the ducal household. During this time, he uncovered individuals with ties to both Tedor and the Grand Duke. He managed everything with ironclad thoroughness — to the extent that if even a trace of foreign blood was detected, the person was not admitted.

So it came as a complete shock to him when he received the confidential emergency report that a foreign spy was already inside the ducal household.

“Where did this information come from?”

Knox lowered his voice even further.

“From the foreign tribes themselves.”

Just as they had tried to place spies around Carlos, he had done the same to them. The difference was that Carlos had succeeded, while they had failed — or so they thought.

This report proved that belief to be incorrect.

Of the dozens of spies Carlos had placed within the foreign tribes, only a handful held significant positions. Even those had no access to truly sensitive information. The spy he had placed in the royal palace of a foreign country served only as chief attendant in a minor residence.

Knox continued.

That attendant had a spotless background and was highly capable in his duties. However, the foreign king was extremely cautious and only accepted direct descendants of long-established tribes as his personal attendants.

Then, by chance, the attendant once helped a newly arrived servant who was being punished. This small act formed the basis of a connection.

As that servant attended the king directly, they passed on information that they had overheard to the attendant. Over time, the attendant was eventually able to conclude from these snippets of information that there was already a spy within the ducal household.

Even after Knox had finished speaking, Carlos did not respond.

He did not immediately order an investigation into the household. Instead, he replayed Knox’s words in his mind, sinking slowly into thought.

“…Are you certain?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

Most of Carlos’s subordinates were comrades forged on the battlefield — men who harbored a deep hatred of foreign tribes. Betrayal was unthinkable, and they were trained to only submit reports when they were absolutely certain.

Because he trusted his comrades, Knox could state this fact without hesitation. Carlos knew that, too.

“Shall we investigate quietly once more?”

“No. That won’t be necessary.”

“Do you have any idea who it might be?”

Knox recalled Carlos’s reaction when he first delivered the news. He had been surprised—but not shaken.

“…Is there someone you suspect?”

Because the guess was correct, Carlos said nothing and merely looked at Knox.

Meeting his gaze, Knox stiffened and waited for his words.

“…We’ll know soon enough. There’s nothing you need to do.”

Knox, assuming that someone else was already handling the investigation, bowed his head.

“I’ll take my leave.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Upon being dismissed, Knox left immediately. The door closed behind him, leaving the room silent. However, Carlos found himself unable to focus on the documents in front of him.

The presence of a foreign spy was not an especially grave threat in itself. Unless it involved Diego, there was little chance of delivering a decisive blow. This was why he could afford to remain unhurried.

Since he could no longer work and had no intention of wasting time, Carlos headed straight for Annely.

In the meantime, Annely had woken up. When he arrived, she was still wearing her negligée and leaning languidly against the sofa.

She blinked drowsily and turned towards him.

“You’re here?”

After almost a month, his visits had evolved from mere familiarity to a settled routine. Her voice remained calm.

Carlos brushed a light kiss against Annely’s forehead and sat down beside her. He would usually pull her into his arms at this point, but this time he did not. Instead, as soon as he sat down, he lifted Annely’s foot and rested it on his thigh, then began to press firmly along her calf.

As the tension from the night before had not fully eased yet, Annely let out a soft groan and relaxed her body. Carlos adjusted his pressure at once. Her calves were so slender that they looked fragile, so he took care not to hurt her with his calloused hands.

“Is your back all right?”

Annely opened her eyes. Even lying on the soft sofa, her lower back still throbbed faintly.

“I have to see my brother off tomorrow, so I’ll endure it today.”

Then, narrowing her brows, she added.

“How can you not miss a single day?”

Carlos had not missed a single day since they started pretending, and this had continued for a full month.

During that time, Annely had visibly lost weight. Despite sleeping so much, she was still tired throughout the day. As Carlos took in the sharp line of her chin, he nodded to himself.

He had been running wild for two weeks straight, like a horse with loosened reins. If he pushed his luck any further, he might be barred from entering again.

Accepting this, Carlos focused on the massage instead. Annely melted back against the sofa once more, her body gradually relaxing beneath his hands.

“Did something upset you?”

It was a question she had wanted to ask ever since he walked in. His expression hadn’t changed much, but Annely could sense a subtle shift.

Without looking up from the mottled marks on her calf, Carlos replied.

“Mm. Something like that.”

“Oh.”

Annely pursed her lips slightly in response, but didn’t press further.

Carlos paused for a split second at her indifferent reaction, just as Annely sat up and began to look over the table.

“Did you see the embroidery frame?”

Focused on the table, Annely didn’t see Carlos’s expression. When she finally spotted the embroidery frame, her face twisted sharply.

“Ah…”

She hurriedly picked it up, but the black tea that had spilled from the overturned cup had already soaked more than half of the handkerchief. Thankfully, it hadn’t reached the embroidery itself—but the white fabric had been stained a deep scarlet, ruined beyond repair.

“Why?”
“It’s completely ruined.””

Biting her lip, Annely blamed herself. There was no need to think deeply about it — this was clearly the result of the chaos they’d caused here last night. She shot a sharp glare at the culprit.

“My brother is leaving tomorrow. What am I supposed to do now? This is all your fault.”

Carlos had rushed at her the previous night, casually setting the embroidery frame down on the table in haste. He had nothing to say in his defense.

Even though she knew it could not be salvaged, Annely wiped away the dampness. Nevertheless, the plain pine tree embroidery against the scarlet-stained cloth looked out of place.

“It would’ve been finished today…”

The memory of the dozens of times she’d pricked her fingers over the past two days made her chest feel tight.

“It’s fine. The first one was for your brother anyway. You can send one to His Grace separately.”

“I wanted to send them together.”

Annely rose abruptly and shoved Carlos away.

“Get out. Don’t even think about coming back today.”

Carlos could easily have withstood the push, yet he offered no resistance and allowed himself to be ushered out of the room. He hesitated, on the verge of asking what she intended to do with the ruined handkerchief, but then thought better of it.

It would reveal too much about his thoughts. Tomorrow would be soon enough.

After lingering outside her door for a moment, Carlos turned and returned to his office.

As she listened to his footsteps fading beyond the closed door, Annely lifted her head. The irritation from moments earlier had vanished without a trace, leaving only calm.

Only once the sound had disappeared completely did she return to the sofa. Sitting down, she picked up the ruined handkerchief and clicked her tongue softly.

‘It’s a bit of a shame, but…’

Although she had made it with the intention of ruining it, she was careful not to do so carelessly in case Carlos noticed anything was amiss. It was a shame to spill tea on something she had spent two days working on, but she did not regret it.

If she had not created an excuse like this, she would have spent today with Carlos as well.

She had coped reasonably well with the past two weeks, but over the last few days she had started to feel uneasy in his presence. Every time she saw him, she felt nauseous, leaving her with no choice.

As the discomfort rose again, Annely covered her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut. The faint scent of black tea lingered in the air, twisting her stomach. The tighter she closed her eyes, the stronger the aroma seemed to become.

Some time passed before she opened her eyes again. She loosened her grip on the handkerchief, which she had been clutching so tightly that it was almost torn, and rubbed her throbbing forehead.

Lately, her sense of smell had become unusually acute.

Not only that, but she had also been sleeping more than ever before — so much so that she could not ignore it. And then there was something else.

“….”

Annely’s eyes flew open. She slowly raised a hand and, dazed, placed it over her lower abdomen.