“Well, that might mean she’s that desperate.”

Lars turned his head at Yanken’s retort. Eyeing him with a displeased look, Lars raised his eyebrows.

“What’s this? For someone who doesn’t particularly like her, you’re taking her side?”

Yanken chuckled and scratched his rough, bearded chin before speaking:

“After experiencing two wars and getting older, I’ve become sentimental. Everything in the world changes with time, but if there’s something that never changes, perhaps it should be treated specially.”

Lars didn’t counter the weighty words delivered in a gruff voice that seemed embarrassed; he just swallowed a sigh. Yanken’s lips loosened as he stretched his neck to check outside the window.

“A carriage is coming. Well, let’s see what move the desperate Lady Bickman has made.”

Finally, a sigh escaped from between Lars’s teeth.

He also knew that Lucienne wouldn’t just let this go. In his heart right now, there coexisted a desire for Lucienne to give up at this point and a hope that she wouldn’t. Even as he wished for her to live comfortably somewhere unrelated to him, the desire to keep her close and protect her would suddenly rear its head.

Was it responsibility, or guilt?

Rubbing his face, Lars recalled Lucienne looking at him with blazing eyes. Her proposal was smoothly packaged in words like a gift box, but her gaze was intense, as if issuing a challenge.

Come to think of it, it had always been that way. Lucienne was a delicate girl, but she always looked at him as if she would devour him. With eyes like a small beast ready to pounce and bite his nape the moment she saw an opening.

……The problem now was that she no longer appeared as a small beast but as a proper woman.

From the moment it was decided to go to Edmus, no, even before that, Lucienne had clearly occupied a place in his mind. That’s why, as soon as he returned, he instinctively rode to the Bickman mansion.

As familiar scenery passed by, a tender feeling spread in his chest. He knew from Hardy’s letters that Lucienne was doing well, but he still wanted to confirm it with his own eyes. Only then would he feel at ease.

Because it was late, the Bickman mansion was surrounded by silence. One of the rooms with lights on was the all-too-familiar office, which made him sigh.

When he entered the room, Lucienne was asleep, slumped over her desk. Her snow-white nape was clearly visible beneath her hair, which had become shorter like a child’s. Fatigue was evident in her tightly closed eyes.

How could he explain the emotion of that moment when he saw she was safe?

That feeling of absolute relief.

There had been several moments on the battlefield when he felt death’s breath on his nape. An arrow that came flying when he let his guard down had torn his eye corner, and a sword he failed to block had sliced his side.

Strangely, in those moments when death drew near, Lucienne’s face always came to mind. That intelligent, vibrant face.

‘If that person liked me, I wouldn’t care if I never married. As long as he let me stay by his side.’

Those lovely eyes that spoke those words.

After gently stroking her head while suppressing countless desires that welled up inside him, he left the room. He believed she would continue to do well, just as she had until now. Until he saw her in distress, appearing at Fatura’s banquet in men’s clothing.

He had forgotten how reckless Lucienne could be when faced with a goal.

“Commander. Dario has arrived.”

At Yanken’s words, Lars slowly emerged from his thoughts and turned his gaze. Dario, holding his hat with both hands, seemed somehow restless.

“I’ve returned, master.”

“Good work.”

“Um……”

As Lars was about to turn away after speaking briefly, Dario cleared his throat, stopping him. His voice leaked out, tinged with tension.

“Lady Bickman is in the carriage right now.”

“What?”

It was Yanken who raised his voice. He immediately burst into laughter. Seeing Lars’s brow furrow, Dario hurriedly added:

“Well, she said she absolutely had to ask you something, and that you would think it was something you’d have to face eventually. I told her you were unwell and couldn’t come out, but she didn’t care and got into the carriage……”

Yanken crossed his arms over his chest and nodded his head vigorously. He looked as if he might applaud. At his expression of great admiration, Lars rubbed his throbbing forehead. It seemed Lucienne’s assertiveness had grown stronger during their time apart.

“It looks like you need to prepare for a touching reunion, Commander.”

Yanken’s tone was full of amusement. Not letting that voice sway him, Lars gathered his thoughts and slowly opened his lips.

“……Send her back.”

“What?”

Both Yanken and Dario opened their eyes wide. Despite their gazes that seemed to reproach him for being too harsh, Lars continued without moving, his eyes gradually hardening.

“The sun is setting. If I let Lucienne into the castle alone at this hour, we won’t be able to stop rumors from spreading. It’s better to send her back now, even if we have to make up an excuse about a plague.”

“But no matter what, she came all this way in that uncomfortable luggage carriage, shouldn’t we at least let her wet her throat—”

“Do you think she came all this way just to have a cup of tea with me?”

As Lars shook his head with a sigh that resembled a lament, the chilly atmosphere softened slightly.

“She came intending to spend the night here. To strengthen her proposal.”

Watching the two men gape simultaneously, he waved his hand dismissively.

“Once she comes in, she won’t leave until tomorrow morning no matter what excuse is given. We can’t force her out, so the moment she enters, we’ll be caught in Lucienne’s trap. So send her back now.”

“Yes, yes.”

Dario, who had answered reflexively, couldn’t erase his troubled expression as he headed outside. Yanken muttered with a deep sigh:

“To think that little… Lady Bickman came with such calculations, and that you noticed and rejected them, you’re both truly remarkable.”

“Change to the largest carriage and prepare a horse to use as a guide. The return journey will be dark, so it would be safer to have someone lighting the way ahead.”

After speaking quietly, Lars walked down the corridor while Yanken stared blankly after him, his mouth working.

“Surely you don’t mean to go yourself?”

To think there was someone who would send away a woman who came to see him, yet offer to guide her home.

“What kind of plague is this,” Yanken muttered, but fortunately his voice wasn’t heard by anyone. Only the sound of tree branches swaying in the strong wind was loud.

* * *

When Dario was young, his neighborhood was famous for bull fighting.

He had often gone with his father to watch these fights, and each time he would imagine something strange: the referee announcing the start of the match getting caught between the bulls charging from both sides.

With two older sisters, he often found himself caught between them, so it was a natural imagination. But such situations happened quite frequently in his life. He had been caught between two best friends who were fighting, and between two women who claimed to like him.

But he could say with certainty that this moment was the most difficult of all his “caught in the middle” experiences.

Because Lucienne Bickman was listening to the news he delivered without batting an eyelash.

When he came outside, Lucienne had already left the carriage. She had entered the landscape where dusk was beginning to fall and was calmly looking around.

Her appearance might have seemed relaxed, like someone out for a stroll, but to Dario’s eyes, it wasn’t like that at all. She looked like a general contemplating where to shoot the single arrow she carried in her heart.

“……It seems he suspects a contagious plague and cannot leave his room. He said he will certainly greet you when his condition improves, but tired as you must be, it seems you should return now. If you wait a moment, we will prepare the largest and most comfortable carriage for you.”

Though he had been nervous, Dario was confident he had finished speaking quite smoothly when he suddenly heard a low laugh and looked up.

Lucienne’s beautiful lips were curved crookedly. Her ash-gray eyes shone as if she knew everything, making Dario clench his fists unconsciously.

Lucienne was certainly very beautiful, but she also looked very cold. She was the kind of person who made one fear what words might come from her mouth. He could understand why people called her “the cursed ice flower fairy.”

“A plague, how terrible. Of course, you’ve informed His Highness Pelowic of this fact?”

“What?”

Dario’s eyes widened at the unexpected question. Lucienne kept her gaze fixed on him as she spoke.

“I understand the duke met with His Highness Pelowic recently. Since His Highness was said to have offered prayers at the temple today, it doesn’t seem he caught it from the duke, but conversely, he might have passed it to His Highness, so shouldn’t you inform him in advance?”

“No, I, well……”

“If it’s difficult, I can help. Through the merchant group, I could deliver a letter to His Highness today.”

Dario swallowed hard, like gulping down a stone. The certainty that he could never deceive this woman by himself weighed heavily on his shoulders. Cold sweat trickled down.

“Ah, th-that’s fine. We will inform His Highness from our side……”

“You couldn’t be faster than the Nix merchant group. Unless you send word right away.”

“Well, he probably already knows. I, I heard the news late……”

“A plague.”

The ice-cold voice pierced his ears, making Dario straighten his back. Lucienne took a step closer, staring at him with sharp eyes, and continued elegantly:

“Spreads invisibly. You might have been infected today while receiving instructions from the duke, and since you’ve been with me in the carriage the whole time, the same goes for me. Though I may seem insignificant, I handle numerous affairs of the Bickman family and lead the Nix merchant group. If there’s a possibility I might be ill, I need to know what disease it is and what symptoms appear.”

He was wrong. No matter what he said, he wouldn’t be able to convince her. Far from convincing her, with each word he spoke, he felt like he was crawling deeper into a trap.