But he was aware he shouldn’t answer like that.

Constantine interpreted those words as ‘I don’t want to be linked with rumors about the duke.’

Given her iron wall until now, he couldn’t interpret it any other way.

So Constantine carefully answered in a way that would reassure her.

“And as you know, I only studied this as a hobby, so I’m not sure how well I can do it. I’ll try my best, but I can’t guarantee a perfect translation.”

“That part isn’t a big concern either. Just doing what you can is enough.”

In truth, the interpretation was just a means.

No family head had accomplished this in hundreds of years. He naturally didn’t expect it to be interpreted in his generation.

“I don’t want to pressure you with deadlines. You can proceed at your own pace. However, since this item cannot be taken outside… you’ll need to come here to work whenever you have time.”

What he wanted was to meet her regularly. That was all.

“Ah, then… shall I visit weekly? Which day would be convenient?”

Weekly! He wanted to shout in joy inwardly but managed to answer like a cultured person by exercising the patience he had built up.

“Since only I can open this box… you’ll need to visit when I’m here. Is that… inconvenient?”

That’s right. Only I can open it. Well, I could leave it open in advance, but since it’s an item requiring security, we must be together.

“Not at all. Um… you must be busy, so I’ll try to stay quiet and leave.”

“…That’s not necessary. Your visits bring me joy as well.”

He meant it sincerely. Ignoring her bewildered reaction, he declared the day.

“Wednesday would be good.”

Wednesday.

And so Wednesday became the day he looked forward to most each week.

* * *

As several Wednesdays repeated this way, Saena’s wariness, which had been like that of a sensitive stray cat, softened considerably.

That was fortunate.

Though he felt somewhat guilty seeing her approach so seriously what was essentially busywork he had created just as an excuse to meet.

Watching her diligently taking notes while turning the jewel this way and that, and searching through thick books, he realize anew — ah, she’s truly an Arles-Promesa enthusiast.

She was so serious that he felt guilty for having given her the translation work as just a pretext.

‘…I simply can’t find the right timing to speak.’

For the first few weeks, they just sat together in the office, worked, and parted ways. Around the time he started self-deprecating about what exactly he was doing here like some rookie, he noticed an opening.

He felt her gaze on him.

It was close to observation, even seeming to examine some part of his face. For some reason, his mouth went dry at that gaze wrapping around him.

Though he maintained the pretense of working, the contents of the documents Constantine was reading had long since evaporated from his mind.

Constantine seized the moment and spoke.

“Shall we have some tea?”

Finally, a chance to exchange some words.

“…Pardon?”

But her reaction was a bit strange. She asked back, slightly startled.

Like she was asking how he could make such a suggestion.

Though internally flustered, years of ingrained composure allowed Constantine to act naturally.

Despite the initial odd reaction, fortunately she soon accepted.

Constantine quickly sent a messenger to the butler using his Guardian Spirit’s power, instructing him to prepare refreshments.

He led her to sit on the sofa, and shortly after, Royter arrived with a tea set.

Royter, who had keenly noticed that he considered Saena’s weekly visits quite important, had clearly prepared the refreshments thoughtfully in advance.

— Master… don’t sit too close. Men and women should maintain proper distance. And I need food too…. When will you replenish my provisions….

For some reason, Caligo’s tone was unusually weak today. Ignoring his grumbling, Constantine picked up his teacup.

“Wow, this is really delicious.”

Thanks to Royter, he could watch Saena munching enjoyably on the desserts.

Just as he was internally praising Royter’s preparedness, as Saena’s attitude seemed to have softened somewhat due to the sweets–

“Duke, please try some too.”

She offered them to him as well.

He froze for a moment.

“…I don’t particularly care for sweets.”

Just thinking about sweet things melting in his mouth made him feel nauseous without realizing it.

Actually, in normal circumstances, even this sugary smell would have been revolting.

That’s how strong his aversion to sweets was.

Childhood. The candies and cakes given like compensation when he woke up crying from the pain of having patterns carved into his back. Sweet things.

Sweetness was nothing but a medium that reminded him of those powerless and painful childhood days.

But for some reason,

Seeing her satisfied expression made him think his own distaste didn’t matter.

Perhaps that sweetness had somewhat melted her iron wall.

“Um, Duke, why do you always wear gloves?”

…Perhaps it melted too much.

To think she would strike so directly.

Constantine had noticed before, but this lady was quite bold despite her appearance. Though she seemed passive, she was definitely neither timid nor introverted.

Of course, that aspect made her even more charming.

‘What should I do.’

Usually, he didn’t need to answer such questions. Just staring at the questioner would make them withdraw the question and apologize.

But he couldn’t do that to her. He had to make a choice.

Should he speak honestly? Or make up something suitable?

‘Let’s test first.’

As silence lengthened and regret began to show on her face.

He spoke again before she could take another step back.

“I…”

He looked down at his hands.

Hands he couldn’t carelessly extend to anyone or let them touch.

Those hands seemed to whisper to him.

‘You’re someone who can’t connect with anyone.’

‘I wonder if she would be alright… hm?’

Saena was staring intently at his hands. With an expression full of expectation.

What’s with that expression? Surely not…

— Master! What are you doing! That woman is strange! Get away! Get away! Shoo!

“Would you like to see?”

She asked why he always wore gloves. Was she curious about what great secret lay beneath this leather?

“If you want to see, I can show you.”

Looking at those sparkling, even enthusiastic eyes, somehow all the worrying until now seemed trivial.

He began removing his gloves.

“Take them.”

This was a gamble. Wasn’t this also the question he most wanted answered?

— No, this woman! Shoo! How dare she casually take an unrelated man’s hand! Don’t you know proper etiquette! Get away!

“You’ll find the answer to your question.”

Take my hand and let me know.

Tell me it’s alright.

— Master! This woman must be targeting you for social advancement! This flirting! A person to watch out for…

And then her hand touched his.

Like spring breeze striking winter-frozen icicles, her warmth touched him.

Though that feeling was intoxicatingly good, this wasn’t the state to mindlessly savor it. Constantine observed her expression while internally extremely tense.

“……”

She didn’t seem to find it cold… or unpleasant either.

Saena tilted her head and then began actively feeling the hand she had been holding…

“Are you alright?”

Are you really not affected at all?

“It’s a bit cool… but isn’t that because Your Grace is from the North?”

“…Well. Others say my skin is not just cold, but chilling to the touch.”

That expression still showed she didn’t understand what he meant.

“You’re really alright?”

She was completely fine. Being in contact with him was fine.

He felt pure joy. An uncontrollable smile bloomed on his face.

“Then… may I stay like this a little longer?”

And now he could purely enjoy this sensation, this feeling.

“My body temperature is low, but your hands are warm…”

For that, he needed her permission.

“Just a little longer… may I?”

He asked, almost pleading. He didn’t mind appearing pitiful.

Though his excessive humility as a duke towards a noble lady must be burdensome, he didn’t care as long as he could maintain contact with that skin.

And Saena didn’t disappoint his expectations.

As soon as she nodded, he closed his eyes and observed his state.

This stark sense of tranquility…

Caligo’s voice had completely subsided, and even the chill that usually flowed through his entire body seemed to dissipate, as if wrapped in some warm membrane.

Ah, how could this be? How was this possible?

The fundamental question arose, but truthfully, the answer didn’t matter.

If only he could continue to stay in contact like this.

Constantine felt the urge to pull that small hand touching his and imprison it in his embrace, but he controlled himself with all his might.

“Ha…”

With just that small warmth at his fingertips, Saena had given him a peace that didn’t exist in this world.

Then he must never let this warmth go.

He felt desire—greed for a woman rising and awakening within him.

It was a persistent and tenacious desire he had never felt for anyone before, intense enough to surprise even himself.

‘Must not show it.’

He endured while restraining the fierce sensations that began to rampage within.

Packaged gentleness.

Requests wrapped in courtesy.

He had gained permission to be close by weaponizing the pitifulness of a man who seemed to have a story.

That much was fine. He could do that much.

For this warmth.

* * *