Lars’s brow furrowed as he couldn’t take his eyes off Lucienne with his arms crossed. He sighed again. This was certainly different from his usual self, who rarely revealed his thoughts.

“Whether I accept or reject, there’s nothing Balshwin can do. As long as Cecilie Ohr lives, he can’t take another woman.”

“But everyone knows the countess’s health is poor. They say she could die at any moment. If the count intends to make Lady Bickman his wife, not his mistress, I don’t think it would be difficult for him to take action.”

Lars paused at his matter-of-fact words. He must have already considered this possibility. Yanken deliberately raised his tone and asked:

“You don’t think he would do it, do you?”

Lars let out a hollow laugh and lowered his gaze. His heavy voice resonated through the air.

“I thought it was strange that the Nix merchant group had grown so powerful. Balshwin is trying to consume the Nix merchant group through Lucienne. That’s why he’s left her alone until now.”

At those words, Yanken gaped, his mouth wide open. His eyes naturally turned to Lucienne.

“Then the moment you reject her, that young lady’s fate…… Not that you should accept for that reason. You must have your own ideal woman, and there’s always the option of escaping to a convent.”

Though the count could easily burn down all the convents in Edmus where Lucienne might flee if he set his mind to it, Yanken said this anyway. Lars’s expression, seemingly lost in thought, had hardened coldly. It was time to leave.

“It’s late, if you’re tired, you should call someone.”

At his careful words, Lars waved his hand lightly. His gaze remained fixed on Lucienne. Yanken bowed his head and left the room.

The decision was Lars’s. If it were him, he’d think he’d suffered enough to earn his title, leave Prince Pelowic to fend for himself, and flee to Freemont with Lucienne.

But Freemont’s civil war wasn’t someone else’s problem.

Though it wasn’t publicly known, Edmus’s current king, Dunkel III, was in poor health due to chronic illness. If he died and Pelowic inherited the throne, there was no telling what Balshwin might do. Recently, he had been actively meeting other nobles to strengthen friendships.

They had come to Edmus partly at Pelowic’s request to monitor Balshwin’s movements.

“My goodness. What a nasty rain.”

Walking down the corridor, Yanken clicked his tongue. The sharp downpour, as if piercing the ground, was intensifying with the deepening night.

* * *

She opened her eyes with a dreamy feeling. However, the bright sunlight pouring in was so dazzling that she soon had to turn over and bury her head in the blanket. Feeling something drop from her forehead, she looked to the side and saw a neatly folded towel had fallen.

About to call for Maya, she blinked blankly and looked around. Only then did the events of the previous night clearly come to mind, and she took a deep breath.

This was the royal villa where Duke Diconmeyer was staying.

The curtains around the large windows were drawn back. The heavy fabric had a subtle sheen, with the royal emblem embossed in gold, giving it a luxurious feel. She raised her head groggily and looked at the water basin placed beside the bed.

She remembered someone’s hand touching her forehead while she was dizzy with fever. It was a large, firm hand. A faint sigh and the sound of a towel being soaked in water had been by her side the whole time while she was sleeping.

……Could it have been you?

A splendid view spread outside the window. The sky was clear and blue after the rain, without a single cloud, and the wide garden and surrounding trees seemed to be showing off the liveliness of early summer. She sat up, gathering her languid body, and rubbed her face.

Good. At least Lars couldn’t drive her away. Since she had spent a night here, he could no longer flatly reject her proposal. If he did, he would be accused of toying with the lady of the Bickman family.

Unless he didn’t care about that.

As soon as she stepped down from the bed, she staggered, losing her balance. Her legs wouldn’t obey her will. Still, she stubbornly walked to the window and opened it wide. As the fresh breeze blew in, her mind seemed to clear.

Using Balshwin was a kind of last stand. It wasn’t just for show. She truly believed that if Lars pushed her away completely, that was the only path left for her.

With nothing more to hope for or expect, shouldn’t she at least get revenge before it ended?

But she had guessed that Lars wouldn’t leave her alone. Since he felt guilty about Kirhin’s death, he wouldn’t let her die too.

“……The question is whether he’ll accept me or not.”

Previously, he had tried to send her to a convent when she attempted to interfere in his affairs. She didn’t think things would be much different now.

Back then, she could prove her worth by managing the merchant group well, but what could she use to prove herself this time?

“He seems to have plenty of money himself.”

After pacing around the room and casually opening a large wardrobe door, she paused. Inside hung several men’s clothes and coats.

After blinking calmly, she immediately ran to the bed and buried her nose in the blanket, sniffing. She finally detected his scent, like warm sunshine on his green eyes.

He put me in his own bedroom? Not a guest room?

Before she could consider what that meant, her heart had already started pounding. She felt her temperature rising again and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. Though she told herself it probably meant nothing, she couldn’t help feeling excited.

There must be dozens of rooms, so why put a woman who proposed to him in his own bedroom?

“If you’re going to do that, you might as well lie down with me.”

As she grumbled, trying to keep her foolishly loosening lips firm, something suddenly crossed her mind.

She walked back to the wardrobe. Among the hanging clothes, a neatly tailored coat caught her eye.

As she slowly caressed it, she felt a soft texture tickling her palm. A warm material with a firm weave. This was definitely……

“Rung goat wool from the Kendal region.”

The answer came automatically to her lips. A conversation she’d had with Nix came to mind.

‘So someone with this would likely be a nobleman from Freemont?’

‘I’m not sure. It’s not particularly favored by nobles. They prefer light and warm materials. They’re not interested in durability.’

Suddenly, she felt goosebumps on the back of her neck. The image of the man subduing sailors at Fatura’s banquet was still vivid in her mind. And the fantasies she’d had about that figure.

“……Was that really you?”

Feeling dizzy, she collapsed where she stood.

Had he been watching her there too? Since when? Why?

Her heart was about to burst. Beyond his current cold, inscrutable face, she saw the beautiful smile from the last day he had visited her.

He cares about me, definitely. Maybe there’s some hope after all.

As she got up from the floor and reached for the door, intending to run to him immediately, she heard a knock.

“Miss, are you awake?”

At the respectful tone of an older woman, she stepped back a couple of paces. The door opened to reveal a neatly dressed woman with white hair. With a warm grandmotherly impression, she carried appetizing food and clothes.

“Oh my, you shouldn’t be up. You had a fever all night.”

“No, I’m fine……”

“Come now.”

With a tone that strangely brooked no argument, she herded her to the bed like a shepherd. As she reluctantly sat on the bed, the woman covered her legs with the blanket and skillfully arranged soup, bread, and tea on the table.

The delicious smell made her stomach growl, and she quickly pressed her hand against it. With a composed face, she spoke:

“Where is the duke? I need to see him.”

“First eat and regain your strength. It would also be good to freshen up.”

As the woman replied with a slight smile, she finally became aware of her state. Someone had removed her outer dress, leaving her in just a white petticoat, and her neck felt sticky from the sweat she shed throughout the night. If she had encountered Lars looking like this, she might not have had the courage to face him again.

Awkwardly adjusting her clothes, she watched as the woman smiled and poured tea.

“I am Nadine, working at this villa. If you need anything, just tell me. I’ll prepare bath water while you eat.”

Following the woman with her eyes as she rolled up her sleeves, she carefully asked:

“Is this room, by any chance, the duke’s room?”

“Yes. It’s the master’s bedroom.”

As I thought.

She deliberately furrowed her brow, making sure her lips didn’t spread into a grin.

“I wonder if it’s appropriate for me to be lying here.”

“You collapsed yesterday after getting soaked in the rain. The duke himself carried you to this room. It’s the bedroom he always uses, so the fire is kept warm in the evenings. We don’t have many guests, so it would have taken time to heat another room.”

Oh, so that was the reason. She felt deflated. With a strangely bitter taste in her mouth, she took a spoonful of soup. It was a rich blend of potatoes, butter, and milk.

Watching her eat the soup slowly, Nadine smiled with wrinkled eyes and said:

“Still, I didn’t expect him to stay by your side all night.”

“What?”

“There are plenty of servants, but he wouldn’t let anyone in. He nursed you himself all through dawn, changing the water basin several times. He must truly care for you.”

The deflation seemed to reverse, and she cleared her throat with a “hmm.” Her face felt itchy somehow, and after racking her brain, she finally changed the subject.

“I should send word to the mansion. They’ll be worried that I haven’t returned.”

“A message was sent at daybreak, so don’t worry and rest. You’re just like the master, always thinking too much.”

When did that happen?

A smile finally escaped her lips. She could clearly picture Maya dancing with joy.

She shook her head and began tearing at the bread. Though simple, every dish was delicious.