“Please, madam. You are standing at the edge of a cliff right now. I beg you—do not involve yourself in any form of gambling from now on.”

Still feeling confused, Eliza looked at him again.

Seeing Deonar like this reminded her of the statue of a male god that Rose Silmera had once purchased at an art auction — a n*de sculpture, no less.

Deonar carried the same elegance and nobility. He spoke quietly and kindly, and was willing to risk his life to save others; yet he lived his own life with reckless abandon.

Even after living through two lifetimes, Eliza felt that she would never truly understand him.

More importantly, she reminded herself that she shouldn’t try to.

This led her to a deeper realization.

‘I couldn’t even understand the husband I once loved… so what right do I have?’

Still, that was one thing, but the memory of how she had trembled at the racetrack was unbearably embarrassing.

So her voice shrank, growing quieter and quieter as she spoke.

“I… don’t even know how to play card games… I don’t go to places like casinos.”

“…Ah.”

This time, it was Deonar whose face flushed red.

He was the sort of man who would laugh it off even if his trousers fell down in the middle of a banquet hall—and yet now, he was seized by guilt, as though he had layered hardship upon hardship for her.

‘D*mn it… my sins just keep piling up.’

In a subdued voice, he said,

“Please forgive my inappropriate misunderstanding. I dared to presume how you would conduct yourself… Forgive me.”

“No, no—it’s alright, my lord.”

“…Deonar.”

‘This man, honestly…!’

Suppressing a different kind of rising emotion, Eliza said,

“It was a situation that could easily be misunderstood. What happened that day—and your concern today… thank you.”

“….”

Her gratitude was sincere.

To Deonar, it felt as though a knife had been driven into his chest. A very small knife.

Instead of saying goodbye, Eliza asked.

“Did you place a bet on ‘Blue Daisy’?”

At that, Deonar straightened his posture and replied proudly,

“I did. One derk. And I won ten.”

“…O-one derk?”

One derk was the smallest coin, while a single newspaper cost five derks.

It was such a small amount that it was almost strange for a wealthy nobleman like Deonar to even have such a coin.

‘Why…? You were handed the answer, and you still wasted it!’

Eliza looked at him with tearful, disbelieving eyes.

And Deonar realized one more thing he had wanted to see.

This face.

Eliza snapped,

“Why? Did you not believe me?”

“No.”

He chuckled softly and walked toward the door.

“I thought it would be more amusing to leave your debt unpaid. Well then.”

‘…What did he just say?’

Only then did Eliza feel as though she had been toyed with. Just remembering the debt from her previous life made it hard to breathe, and now he was saying what?

She called him firmly.

“My lord!”

“…?”

“I told you the result of the race to repay my debt from that day. It was your choice to accept only ten derks’ worth of repayment. In that case, there is no reason for you to claim that I still owe you anything.”

Deonar stopped and turned back. Avoiding her gaze, he said, a little playfully,

“Ouch. Don’t hit me with words.”

Eliza was so dumbfounded that she couldn’t even say, “Pardon?”

“Next time, I’ll make up for today’s mistake.”

Deonar smiled at her, gave a polite nod, and headed for the door.

Eliza suddenly felt dizzy and covered her forehead with her palm—only to sense the air in the room turn cold.

When she lifted her head in unease and confusion, James was standing beyond the door Deonar had opened.

The two men stood facing each other like reflections in a mirror.

‘Aaaah!’

Eliza screamed inwardly, feeling as though she had been struck by lightning. Meanwhile, the two men were too busy glaring at each other to notice her.

Despite the internal chaos, the room was filled only with silence.

James had never met Viscount Goodwin before, so he did not recognize the man standing in the tea room.

The handsome stranger, who had intruded upon a space reserved for his wife’s rest, radiated boundless hostility towards James.

‘What… is this?’

Deonar, on the other hand, fell into deep despair all over again, certain that now James had appeared, Eliza would never forgive him.

Didn’t she look as though she might be killed every time she mentioned her “husband” just moments ago?

Fixing Deonar with a sharp stare, James asked in a slow, deliberate tone,

“And who might you be?”

“……”

Deonar, being a noble from one of Athern’s long-established families, was not accustomed to being addressed so bluntly by a stranger.

But given the circumstances, he forced himself to endure it.

“I entered the wrong room. My apologies.”

Yet as he tried to leave, James stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

“This is a women’s tea room. Not exactly a place one enters by mistake.”

“James!”

Eliza hurried to the door. She had no intention of watching her life fall apart before she had even gathered enough funds to escape.

“He said he came to the wrong room. He was just apologizing to me and about to leave.”

“Just as she said.”

Deonar replied, turning naturally toward Eliza—and in the process, he even gave her a subtle wink.

It was meant to reassure her, but to Eliza, it felt as though the last thread of her sanity—already worn thin—was snapping apart.

James did not yield an inch.

“No, Eliza. I should call someone to confirm whether this man is suspicious.”

“James, this is the Swan Club. There’s no way someone suspicious would be here. It was simply a mistake—”

“Stay out of this.”

James’s voice cut sharply through the room, and Deonar’s expression hardened in earnest.

James was well aware of the disorderly side of nobles and the wealthy, so to him, this was only the natural response of a husband.

‘How dare he…’

And Deonar burned with anger at James’s domineering attitude toward his wife.

‘How dare he!’

Watching the two of them, Eliza felt her vision go dark.

‘…I’m done for. This is over!’

At that moment, a staff member rushed in.

“Is something the matter, Viscount Goodwin?”

At the unexpected name, James repeated it in disbelief.

“Viscount Goodwin?”

“That’s right, Mr. Ashton.”

“……”

“No, it’s nothing.”

Deonar replied to the staff member with the easy composure typical of blue blood, then turned to James.

“Then may I take my leave?”

“I apologize for the misunderstanding.”

“It’s nothing. Goodbye.”

Deonar left, and James stared after him until he disappeared from view.

Beside him, Eliza, watching his profile, felt her legs tremble.

Yet James calmly extended his hand to her.

“Let’s head back. Miss Winclaire already left with the young marquis.”

“…Yes, James.”

As she slipped her arm through his, Eliza felt as though her heart might burst.

But there was nothing she could do except hold her breath and act as though nothing had happened. Inside, however, her thoughts were in complete chaos.

‘They met. He saw him! Oh no…!’

When she cautiously glanced at James’s profile, it was so composed that everything that had just happened felt almost unreal.

Even in a situation like this, he revealed nothing of his thoughts—and that realization filled her with a renewed sense of despair.

Outside the club, Lorina stood by the carriage, waving cheerfully as usual.

“Eliza, I’ll come visit for tea soon!”

Finding her act almost nauseating, Eliza waved back with a smile.

“Of course, Lorina!”

After Aedrin departed, James placed his arm around Eliza’s shoulders and guided her toward their carriage.

“Let’s go.”

“…Yes.”

Even after their carriage set off, James remained silent for a while.

‘Is it just going to pass like this?’

Anxious, Eliza stole a glance at him.

Then he spoke.

“Once this matter is settled, it might be good to take a vacation.”

It sounded almost like he was speaking to himself, so Eliza simply thought he must be tired.

‘Yes, please do that! You’ll soon be rich enough to start your own bank anyway.’

Then, in the same calm tone—as if casually discussing a holiday destination—James said,

“Eliza, tell me exactly what that man said. Not a single word omitted.”

“…!”

Eliza froze.

At that moment, she was almost grateful that her natural disposition tended toward timidity and hesitation.

It made her stammering lie seem all the more natural.

“H-he didn’t even stand there for ten seconds, James.”

But whether he heard her or not, James simply stared out the window.

“Eliza.”

“Yes!”

His voice turned cold as he gave an order.

“If you ever cross paths with him again, do not exchange a single word.”

‘I don’t want to either!’

Eliza screamed inwardly, but the way James seemed unwilling to even speak Deonar’s name stung her.

After all, in terms of character, James had no right to judge Deonar.

Muttering under her breath, she said,

“He’s the heir of a distinguished family, James. He’s not some kind of criminal.”

At that, James sharply turned his head to look at her.

“Deonar Goodwin. Do you know what his nickname is?”