“Your Grace. I am here to serve the deputy high priestess and simply to do my duty.”

Liana’s calm voice seemed to urge him to look around and see the obvious.

Who else, in this room, was meant to pick up a fallen tart and clean shoes from the floor? Was it Giselle Marlhein—the great deputy high priestess called a living saint? Or Shed Lester, head of a prince-elector’s house and undefeated hero? Or was it Liana Serpens, the new maid who had followed them both here to serve?

It was a question to which anyone would know the answer without hesitation.

Liana simply couldn’t understand what Shed wanted from her. To her, it looked like nothing more than petty cruelty.

If he had just left her alone, she would have cleaned up quietly and withdrawn. Why stop her, then waste time over something as trivial as a tart? Was it just to force her to confront her place even more starkly?

In that moment, Shed appeared to be more callous than Giselle, who had deliberately dropped the tart.

Just then, an elegant voice called out from behind.

“Liana. That’s enough—take the tart out. I need to speak privately with His Grace.”

Giselle, arms folded, watched them both closely.

“Speak privately?”

Shed’s brow furrowed.

Giselle only smiled as she replied.

“Well, we need to talk about our wedding, don’t we?”

“Giselle—!”

“Your Grace.”

At that, Liana brushed off Shed’s large, firm hand from her arm.

His broad hand fell away.

“I’ll take my leave now, Deputy High Priestess.”

Liana said, bowing her head. She knelt once more, retrieved the tray with the tart, and stood.

“Liana—”

“If you need me, please call.”

Liana ignored Shed’s call and quietly left the room.

As the door closed with a sharp click, she heard a soft laugh escape Giselle.

Shed turned to Giselle with a cold glare, but Giselle only shook her head, legs crossed.

“Do you realize how pathetic you just looked, pining for that maid?”

She openly ridiculed her fiancé for being so easily shaken in front of that woman.

Unlike the calm and self-controlled maid, the duke had let his emotions show far too plainly—as if Liana was his one weakness, as if the slightest touch to that nerve would lay all his feelings bare.

“You could have stayed silent… if not for yourself, then at least for her.”

Didn’t he realize that the more attention he paid to Liana, the more he was provoking his fiancée? Of course he knew — he wasn’t that much of a fool. But he had now reached a point where he simply couldn’t hide it any longer.

He was as clumsy and awkward as a boy experiencing his first love.

“Do you love her?”

Giselle leaned her chin on her hand as she asked the question, her voice laced with anger and irritation.

She wasn’t so saintly that she could easily forgive her fiancé for harboring feelings for another woman. But she wasn’t vulgar enough to grab a maid by the hair, either.

What fault could that girl possibly have?

Giselle was wise enough to know that hurting Liana would achieve nothing. If anything, it would only provoke Shed further, as it had just now.

She had no intention of letting herself be swept away by petty jealousy and doing something beneath her.

“Did you call Liana here just to confirm it?”

Shed, who still hadn’t sat down, looked down at Giselle.

Giselle’s eyes narrowed with annoyance.

“Of course I did. I need to know for sure. Marriage is one of the most important decisions of my life—maybe even for the entire empire. If my partner in this momentous event starts acting foolish, that’s a problem.”

“So what is it you want from me?”

“What could I possibly want? Just keep your head down and focus on preparing for our marriage, quietly and properly.”

It irritated Giselle to have Shed repeat questions to which he already knew the answer.

“You know, if it weren’t for you, I’d have fallen for that girl. She really is my type. So don’t give me any reason to hate her because of you. I’m rather good at hating people when I put my mind to it.”

She looked up at him with a beautiful but coldly impassive face.

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

Liana stood waiting in the colonnade lined with white pillars. She was waiting for Giselle to appear. Through the pillars, she could see the lemon tree in the courtyard. Bathed in sunlight, the white bell tower seemed to watch over the entire temple. Faded paintings of paradise that she had read about as a child adorned the ceiling.

The scene was tranquil: sunlight streamed in, and birds came and went in the peaceful temple. It was all so calm — so unlike her.

The composure she had maintained before meeting Giselle felt as though it was beginning to crack at the edges. Liana pressed a hand to her tight chest and forced herself to breathe slowly.

“We need to talk about our wedding, too, don’t we?”

Compared to the tangled and stifling mess of her own life, Shed’s world seemed to move forward elegantly, untouched.

Marriage. Yes, it used to be something that people did, didn’t it? Ordinary people talked about love and family and their shared future. But for her, what should have felt normal and natural seemed oddly distant and unfamiliar.

All she wanted was to leave this place with Eclace as soon as possible.

Just then—

Click.

She heard the door to Giselle’s office open.

Liana straightened her posture.

“Liana.”

A low, steady voice called her name.

Shed Lester was the only one to leave the office.

“…Safe travels, Your Grace.”

Liana said, bowing politely with her hands folded neatly at her waist. But Shed strode towards her and stopped right in front of her.

“Why are you even here?”

His voice was low, brimming with cold anger.

“Because I was ordered to.”

She was fully aware of his anger, yet remained calm. Her black shoes pressed down hard on the white marble floor.

Above all, she understood better than anyone else why Liana had no choice in the matter. Having been a slave herself, she knew only too well what it was like to lose one’s freedom.

But this did nothing to lessen the storm of feelings inside him. What angered him most was the unshakable serenity in Liana’s eyes and the way she stood there, seemingly unconcerned.

“I can’t understand you at all…!”

He ran a rough hand through his black hair, the strands tumbling through his long fingers.

Even this small gesture struck a chord in Liana’s chest. But it wasn’t enough to faze her — not after everything she had seen, and not after reality had been laid bare.

Liana dropped her gaze.

Under Shed’s shoe, a small dandelion blooming from a crack in the stone had been crushed flat.

“If there’s nothing else you need, I’ll take my leave, Your Grace.”

She bowed again, utterly composed, and Shed’s insides roiled.

On that day, when all his savage desires had come pouring out and he had burned so hot, she had only grown colder.

If only she would get angry. If only she would blame him, rail at him, show him something of what she was feeling. If only she would let him see even a little of what was in her heart.

Shed’s hand tightened into a fist—a hand he no longer dared to reach out with.

“If this is because of that night…”

“I know. I heard about it from Lord Eclace.”

Shed’s lips trembled as he began to speak, but Liana cut him off first.

“You…know?”

“It was just because of the rut.”

She whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear, as if afraid someone else might overhear.

Shed froze in place.

“It was an accident. That’s all. So… I’d rather not talk about it anymore. You’re about to be married, Your Grace, and it’s not a pleasant memory for either of us.”

A wry smile briefly crossed Liana’s lips as she spoke. The whole situation was almost laughable — having to bring up this conversation again and reopen a wound that should have been allowed to heal over time.

Wouldn’t it be better to just let it fade away?

“You once said there was nothing you’d regret.”

Liana continued, wearing that same mask of composure.