“Gelevan is awakening, isn’t it?”

“I can’t be certain, but I can’t leave the fortress empty.”

“I understand.”

“…Would you truly be all right with going to Faradel?”

He asked again. Now he understood why she had once been so desperate to escape. For this reason, he could not bring himself to force her.

Luise did not answer immediately. Instead, she gazed at the faint sunlight resting on the table.

She could not claim it would be easy. Faradel was still filled with painful memories. With Dietrich there, the discomfort would be unavoidable.

But—

“I’ll be fine.”

She nodded once, her face set with quiet resolve. She had already returned once before; there was no reason she could not go again. If Giselle was coming, then no place—not even here—would be safe.

“When Gelevan awakens, a harsh winter will follow. We must be prepared.”

Luise reminisced about the winters in Ideana as she spoke.

In its mild climate, snow rarely fell, even in the depths of winter. When it did, it would only lightly dust the ground before melting away.

However, if Gelevan stirred, blizzards would follow.

Whenever the thorn of guilt suddenly pierced her, Luise found she could not meet Shed’s eyes. It always felt as if everything was her fault.

“Even without aura, I can manage as much as a Sword Master. Isn’t the blood of Lupus meant to be useful for things like that?”

Noticing her unrest, she spoke offhandedly. He had crossed blades with a Sword Master without hesitation in the war with Blancas. There had been danger, but he had won in the end. So what did it matter if he no longer had an aura?

But to Luise, his words were cutting. It sounded as though his life was only valuable when it was in danger.

Shed saw the shadow fall across her face. The eyes that had burned with energy while discussing preparations for winter now dulled the moment the talk turned back to him, as though drenched in cold water.

“…Whenever the subject turns to me, you always wear that look.”

The words slipped from his lips in a low, blurred murmur. He knew. She was only here to protect Eve. It was only because of her secret that she was bound to this place against her will.

Yet, as humans are ever foolish, greed crept in. He shamelessly wished that she would walk into his arms of her own accord.

Unaware of his fleeting desire, Luise fidgeted with the hem of her skirt before speaking a beat too late.

“Your Grace… are you truly well?”

The hand that had been idly stroking the armrest stilled.

“What do you mean?”

His sharp eyes narrowed into slits. A faint flush colored her pale face.

“I was only worried, that’s all…”

“Worried about what? The aura? Or… the rut?”

His head tilted carelessly.

At his detached question, Luise felt a sudden surge of heat in her chest. Yes, every time she looked at him, she had wanted to ask about it. Was it still happening? Did the sedatives work? And had he spent those nights with other women?

But that wasn’t what she meant just now — it was his health, his condition after the curse.

“I’ve already explained about the aura… so is it the rut you’re curious about?”

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

She had tried to bury those questions about the rut deep inside.

Shed looked at her reddening face and let out a faint laugh. Whether it was bitter amusement or self-mockery, she couldn’t tell.

“You needn’t worry about that either.”

He spoke in a flat, uninflected voice, intending to reassure her. He understood why she was worried about his rut. The night when his bestial desires had overpowered him had shocked him, too.

But, whether by misfortune or blessing, it had never happened again. Since that night, they had not returned.

He could not pinpoint exactly when that turning point had come.

Perhaps it was because he had exhausted all his desire on the night he spent with Luise, or because the heretic’s curse had stripped him of his aura and his lupus nature. Whatever the reason, it never returned after that night.

And yet, one word troubled him.

‘Bondmark.’

The symptom that stabilized when a Lupus in rut found a mate. The mark that, once broken, left its bearer without the will to live.

Shed gazed silently at the woman sitting across from him.

‘Impossible.’

For a Bondmark to form, three conditions were required. First, he must have entered rut. Second, he must have bitten his partner in that state, tasting her blood. Third, he must truly love her, with a heart that wished to protect her.

But his very first rut had been only four years ago. By all rights, the Bondmark should have been impossible.

Still… if, by some chance, the fear gnawing at him was true—if such a mark had been formed without his knowledge—

Shed held his gaze on Luise, turning the old question over and over again. Even he could not be sure.

At last, he rose without a word. He crossed to his study desk, opened the topmost drawer, and took something out of it.

Luise’s eyes widened when she saw what lay in his hand.

It was a small dagger, barely longer than a palm. Its sheath was adorned with intricate silver filigree that gleamed in the sunlight.

She froze when she saw the engraving etched into the metal. It was an unforgettable sigil: a lemon tree enclosed within a round seal — the crest of the House of Ideana.

The Ideana dagger glimmered in his hand, reflecting the light.

“That is…”

It must have been one of the relics left behind in the fallen lands of Ideana. A family treasure unearthed during its restoration, now in his possession.

Shed quietly extended the dagger to her.

“If such a moment ever comes again…”

If I lose myself and desire you—

“Then… stab me with this blade, and run.”

A faint ripple shivered in her lime-colored eyes as they met his.

“But…”

“Don’t worry. Even if you manage to escape, I promise that I won’t reveal your secret or the child’s to the world.”

With a bitter smile, Shed made his vow.

Such measures were necessary in order to subdue the beast raging with l*st. But he wanted Luise to do it. After all, a beast in rut terrified him just as much as it terrified her.

“Even if not for me, with a child at your side, it would be wise to carry one for protection.”

The silver-filigree-adorned dagger waited in still silence for her hand.

Her fingers, clasped tightly together in her lap, hesitated. Stab him? Such a thing was impossible…

And yet, those deep violet eyes flicked towards her once more, urging her on.

For his sake and Eve’s, it was only right that the dagger should pass into her care.

She could not avert her gaze from his piercing stare. At last, her pale hand, weighed down by hesitation, reached for the Ideana blade.

As her fingertips closed around it, they brushed against the warmth of his palm. In that fleeting touch, he found himself thinking that if death ever came for him, he would not mind if it came by that dagger’s edge.

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

The journey from Recherdam to Faradel took a whole day. By the time the Duke’s entourage arrived, night had fallen on the short autumn day.

Yet Faradel, revitalized in recent years, was aglow. Its protective barrier shimmered like an aurora across the sky. Even at this late hour, the streets were crowded with people buying and selling, laughing and talking, and enjoying food and drink.

The air itself felt charged with festivity.

Luise’s attention was drawn to the straw ornaments hanging from doorways. She remembered an old Indiana custom from her childhood: weaving straw into bird-shaped charms before the Harvest Festival to give thanks for the year’s bounty and pray for blessings in the year to come.

‘I had forgotten… that such things even existed.’

As she unpacked in one of the smaller rooms at the Duke’s Faradel estate, she was flooded with nostalgia at the sight of familiar surroundings.

The mansion had a new look. The desolate, almost ruinous air of years past had vanished. Now it stood with stately grace, befitting nobility.

Much of what Luise Ideana had once known had been erased by renovations, expansions, and restorations. The house felt wholly different until, unexpectedly, fragments of the old, familiar past suddenly appeared in an unexpected corner.

“Mommy, are we going to live here again?”

Eve’s voice, drowsy with yawns after the long journey, drifted up.

“For the time being.”

“For the time being?”

She stumbled over the phrase, saying that it was difficult. Was ‘for the time being’ a short or long period of time? She couldn’t grasp it.

Luise laughed softly at her daughter’s words. She was right. Because she, too, could not truly measure how long ‘for the time being’ would last.