“Your Grace…!”

For a moment, Simon thought he must have misheard.

There was no way that Rian could have uttered the word ‘marriage’ otherwise.

Since Dearlin’s departure, countless unmarried noblewomen had fantasized about becoming the Duchess of Sinaster.

And yet Rian had never shown the slightest interest in any of them — not even enough for a casual relationship, let alone an engagement.

As the years passed, concern among the vassals only continued to grow.

At this rate, they feared he would miss the best time to marry, endangering the family’s succession.

“…You intend to make her the Duchess?”

“Yes.”

Rian’s answer was simple and direct.

He didn’t bother to explain himself to Simon.

Simon was just a servant whose job was to carry out orders. Even if Simon objected, Rian wasn’t going to listen.

“But she married the King of Orva!”

Everyone who needed to know was already aware that Rian, formerly devout, no longer believed in the gods following the events of five years ago.

Nevertheless, desiring another man’s wife was considered a grave sin — one that challenged divine authority itself.

No matter how powerful House Sinaster was, it could never escape the temple’s wrath completely.

What was so special about that woman?

Simon could not understand why Rian was so hopelessly obsessed with her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

As though he had been waiting for this moment, Rian handed Simon the documents lying on the desk.

Simon hurriedly checked their contents. They were official documents annulling the marriage of Dearlin and Arthur.

The High Priest’s official seal was stamped at the bottom.

Who would have thought that His Grace would go to such lengths for a woman who had abandoned him?

A hollow emptiness crashed over Simon like a wave.

“She is unfit to become the Duchess.”

Until now, Simon had deliberately avoided mentioning Dearlin’s name in Rian’s presence.

Mentioning that name was taboo for him; he did not want to risk worsening his master’s temper.

But this time, he could not remain silent.

Was it not a loyal servant’s duty to guide a master who had made the wrong choice back onto the right path?

“And why is that?”

Rian did not get angry.

This alone brought Simon a small sense of relief.

Looking into Rian’s quiet, calm eyes, which were like a perfectly still sea untouched by even the faintest ripple, Simon forced himself to gather the courage to continue speaking.

“She gave up her status as an imperial noble to become a citizen of another kingdom. No one knows what kind of life she led there. Having a woman like that as the mistress of the Empire’s sole ducal house would be completely unheard of.”

Not a single word he said was wrong.

House Sinaster was not just any noble family.

It was the Empire’s most prestigious family, second only to the imperial family itself.

Even when Dearlin was the cherished only daughter of Count Shuvachen, many did not consider her the ideal candidate to become duchess.

And now, her circumstances were nothing short of disastrous.

“Is that truly the only reason?”

Rian’s golden eyes sank low and deep.

It felt as though Simon were staring directly into an abyss.

“Y-Yes… that is correct…”

Simon, who had remained confident until Rian asked that question, flinched slightly before lowering his head deeply.

“His Majesty has revoked House Shuvachen’s naturalization, so Dearlin remains the daughter of an imperial count. And since the marriage was never consummated, the High Priest personally annulled it. I fail to see what the problem is.”

It was not that Rian was not angry.

As his voice filled the room, Simon found himself frozen in place, unable to move.

The overwhelming pressure of pure noble blood—of someone born a ruler from the moment he entered the world—was far too much for a mere butler to withstand.

“Tell me, Simon. Do you still believe Dearlin is unworthy of becoming Duchess?”

If he continued to object, his life would be in danger.

No one needed to say it aloud. Simon understood it instinctively.

He also knew, painfully well, that even this question was Rian’s final mercy.

“N-No, Your Grace… Everything you say is correct.”

Even Simon’s unwavering convictions became fragile in the face of death.

“How fortunate. If you, someone I regard as almost a father, insisted on opposing this marriage, it would have deeply wounded me.”

Rian lightly patted Simon’s shoulder, his expression relaxing as though nothing had happened.

Simon awkwardly lifted the corners of his trembling lips.

“Prepare everything perfectly. I don’t want even the smallest flaw.”

“Understood, Your Grace…”

Rian waved a hand, dismissing Simon as he bowed.

Knowing that staying any longer would only risk displeasing him further, Simon quietly left the room.

“I’ve brought the clothes for you to change into.”

After Simon left, a maid entered to attend to Rian’s clothing.

“Leave them on the desk.”

Unlike other nobles, Rian greatly disliked being attended to by maids, so “attending to his clothes” rarely involved much work at all.

The maid stood near the door with her head lowered, unable to bring herself to look at Rian as he changed into a comfortable shirt.

“You there.”

Rian, who had shown no interest in the maid until then, suddenly called to her just as he was nearly finished changing.

“…Yes, Your Grace.”

Having witnessed Rian and Dearlin exchange sharp words in front of the servants the moment he returned, the maid was completely frozen with tension.

“What is Dearlin doing?”

“She is in her bedroom.”

Once again, Rian asked about Dearlin’s whereabouts.

Whenever she was not within his sight, anxiety surged through him with frightening speed.

The thought that she might disappear without a word again, just as she had before, consumed his mind.

“Did she eat dinner?”

“She said she had no appetite, so…”

Was this another childish refusal?

Dearlin had been frail since childhood, yet she still skipped meals without considering her own condition.

Rian hated that.

“Tell the chef to prepare a light soup and sandwiches, then bring them to Dearlin’s bedroom.”

After fastening the last button on his shirt and smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric, Rian opened the bedroom door.

He naturally headed towards the room across the hall — Dearlin’s bedroom.

He stopped in front of the tightly shut door.

His hearing was far sharper than most people’s, and he could make out faint rustling sounds coming from inside, despite the silence.

When he confirmed that Dearlin was indeed in the room, as instructed, some of the tension eased from his nerves.

After taking a few slow, measured breaths, he lifted his hand and knocked on the door.

“It’s me.”

After a brief moment of silence, Dearlin finally invited him into the bedroom.

The moment he opened the door and stepped inside, the familiar scent of Dearlin filled the room.

Even Rian, who had entered with steady confidence, faltered for a moment.

Dearlin was sitting on the bed.

Judging by the large stack of books piled beside her, she had been reading again.

Even after all these years, she hadn’t changed.

Whenever she was alone, she still sat quietly in one place with books for company, just as she had done when they were children.

“…What is it?”

Dearlin looked up at Rian, who was standing stiffly in front of the bed, and asked cautiously,

“What’s wrong?”

Though she had probably not intended to show it so openly, the resentment and hurt that she could not fully hide lingered clearly in her eyes.

Rian clenched his jaw tightly.

Whenever he looked into her eyes, he felt a pang of guilt.

‘Who was the one truly at fault in our relationship?’

Unlike Dearlin, who appeared calm on the surface, it felt as though he alone was constantly affected by her.

And that realization filled him with bitterness and irritation.

“Why didn’t you eat?”

“……”

Dearlin stayed silent.

Even faced with such obvious refusal, Rian had no intention of letting the matter go.

“What, are you protesting because of what I said earlier?”

“It’s not like that…”

Dearlin, who had been staring directly at him from the bed, lowered her gaze and mumbled quietly.

“Then what is it?”

“I just didn’t feel like eating. Is skipping one meal really such a terrible thing?”

Perhaps because she was upset, Dearlin spoke faster than usual, and her voice trembled slightly.

“What if you collapse?”

“You don’t need to worry about that. It’s only one meal.”

The way Dearlin stubbornly pushed back irritated him.

Rian rested a hand against his waist and let out a long sigh.

“Stop being so stubborn.”

His gaze fell on her slender wrist, visible beneath the sleeve of her dress. It looked so fragile that it seemed as though it might break under the slightest pressure.

She spent nearly all her time shut away in her bedroom, and now she was skipping meals as well.

It was as if she no longer cared what happened to her body.

“You’ll be standing before many people from now on. You need to eat properly, Dearlin.”

Rian gently brushed aside the strands of hair that had fallen across her face as he spoke softly.

“What… do you mean by that?”

Dearlin’s eyes shook uneasily at Rian’s vague words and refusal to explain himself clearly.

“I instructed Simon to begin preparing for the wedding.”

“What?”

“We’ll soon become husband and wife.”