Chapter 8

Rabiana widened her eyes and lifted her head. Julia, who had casually looked at her, was struck by the sight of her empty pupils.

“Coming to an unfamiliar place at such a young age—oh? My Lady, your eyes are so beautiful.”

Realizing her eyes were exposed, Rabiana reflexively turned her head away. Then, as Julia’s words belatedly registered in her mind, she felt a bit embarrassed.

“B-beautiful? They’re hideous.”

“Huh? Who says that?”

“…Aren’t they?”

When Julia reacted in shock, Rabiana grew even more flustered.

When she mentioned overhearing the maids at Lawrence’s estate, Julia huffed as if she’d been insulted herself.

“That’s nonsense. They’re nothing but beautiful! Didn’t the Duke ever tell you?”

She thought back to the moment in the carriage—when Alberto had grabbed her chin as she tried to hide her eyes and muttered something short.

“Dunno. Can’t say.”

Still, that didn’t exactly mean he thought they were beautiful… Rabiana shook her head lightly.

“We didn’t marry for love. I first met him at the wedding.”

That was no secret—everyone likely already knew. As expected, Julia wasn’t surprised.

“Even so. Life’s long, you know. If your husband stays that indifferent, how are you supposed to survive in a strange land? You won’t last.”

“No. I…”

The words “I don’t need to last that long” caught in her throat. She had resolved to end her life eventually—but every time she remembered that, a bitter loneliness spread through her chest.

Don’t think about it.

That moment will come when it comes.

Rabiana forced the emotion down and gave a small smile.

“I’ll be fine.”

Julia, resting her chin in her hand, suddenly launched into a detailed account of Alberto’s daily schedule. Rabiana, caught off guard, flusteredly tried to stop her, but Julia wouldn’t be silenced. Instead, she dragged the reluctant Rabiana all the way out to the walking path.

“He’ll probably be passing by soon. The Duke is someone who lives strictly by schedule. He takes walks to clear his head.”

“No, really, I’m fine.”

Rabiana was truly at a loss. She didn’t want to grow closer to Alberto, who had made it clear that all he expected from her was a child.

That statement alone had felt like, “So don’t cross the line.” Her mouth was dry.

But Rabiana couldn’t stop Julia, who had thrown herself into some unknown sense of duty to bring the Duke and Duchess closer.

“When you bump into him here by chance, just suggest having tea together. Got it?”

In Julia’s mind, Rabiana must have been stamped as a timid wife who wanted to approach her husband but couldn’t. Otherwise, Julia was just someone with a nosy personality.

Unable to stop Julia from disappearing on her own, Rabiana stood there awkwardly.

She couldn’t go back alone either.

Caught in between, the wind brushed across her forehead. Swoosh. The sound of the wind rustling through the leaves reached her ears.

Suddenly, she realized this was the first time she’d ever had a moment like this. She’d always clung to Lawrence—never once had she felt the wind on her own like this.

As she closed her eyes and let the unfamiliar yet peaceful breeze wash over her, she heard footsteps that felt strangely familiar.

Was it Alberto? Couldn’t it just be someone else passing by?

Tensing at the approaching steps, Rabiana turned her back.

“Where are you going?”

Ah. Of course—it was Alberto.

“Uh, I, I was just out for a walk. And what about you, Your Grace? Ah, the weather is really nice today.”

Rabiana had never told a lie in her life. With her back to Alberto, she rambled clumsily, hands fidgeting all over the place.

Alberto’s brow furrowed, annoyed that his walk had been interrupted.

Rabiana was far too visibly flustered for this to seem like a coincidence. It wasn’t like she found him intimidating, and yet she was clearly shaken just from seeing him. That kind of reaction made no sense to Alberto.

“Were you waiting for me?”

“…”

Rabiana’s silence only confirmed Alberto’s suspicions. She had come here on purpose. Feeling a tinge of annoyance, he scratched his brow and let out a small sigh as he stood, keeping a set distance from her.

“Do you have business with me?”

“…N-no.”

“Then why?”

Rabiana didn’t answer. Alberto preferred being alone. One of the reasons he had delayed marriage with other women was because they were always pestering him with demands—but more than that, he despised the interference that came with the institution of marriage itself.

He had thought that a blind woman with no will to live wouldn’t be the type to bother him.

But in many ways, she required even more effort.

“You seem to be mistaken.”

After confirming no one was around, Alberto loosened his tie.

“All I ever wanted from you was a child. And maybe, while we’re at it, not acting disgracefully enough to shame that child.”

“…”

“Is there something you want from me?”

His voice carried fatigue, and Rabiana shook her head.

It wasn’t a lie. She didn’t want anything. Even before Alberto had bluntly said he only wanted a child, nothing had been different.

Perhaps the rumors were true—that she truly had no attachment to life. The fact that she’d been pushed into coming out here today said everything.

Rabiana could clearly feel Alberto’s mood. The slow, heavy breath, the deeper tone in his voice—it wasn’t how he normally spoke. Even someone lacking awareness would know those weren’t empty words.

“Just… maybe we could take a walk together—”

Still, she gathered the courage to ask, thinking it might be okay just once. But before she could even finish her sentence, Alberto cut her off with a voice lowered even further.

“You must not understand. I meant that I don’t want anything to do with you except sleeping with you.”

It felt as if Alberto hadn’t just drawn a line—he’d pushed her into a pit he had dug himself.

‘You’re not allowed anything. Once you have my child, you won’t even have worth as a person.’

That’s what his words sounded like. Her eyes grew hot.

She was thankful her back was turned. If she showed the tears that her wounded heart couldn’t help but shed, Alberto would surely mock her.

“Go back.”

“…Yes.”

“Don’t come here at this hour again.”

Alberto began to walk, seemingly ready to leave. He wasn’t getting closer—only moving farther away. He really was going to walk off just like that.

Rabiana wiped the tears from her cheeks and tapped her cane forward. But then, a wave of sorrow rose in her chest toward the man who spoke only cruel words.

Why was he like this to her? What had she ever done to deserve being hurt like this from the very first time they met?

Maybe it was a strange impulse, but she wanted to bother him. A petty desire surfaced—to annoy him, even just a little, for all the hurt he had caused.

“A letter.”

Alberto’s footsteps stopped.

“I want to write a letter to Lawrence, but I can’t write it alone. Could you… write it for me?”

It was Rabiana’s timid form of revenge. Alberto didn’t answer. Whether he was considering it or at a loss for words, she couldn’t tell.

“You said… I should ask for help.”

“…”

“Please help me.”

Her fingertips trembled. Rabiana gripped her cane tightly to hide the shaking.

Alberto turned back to look at her. He couldn’t understand her at all. Her face always wore that look of someone who wanted nothing, yet every time she was hurt, it showed. She never demanded nor hid it.

She was impossible to grasp. One moment she acted like someone who didn’t know how to rely on others, full of pride—and the next, she reached out and asked for his help.

Alberto reevaluated her. She really was unreadable.

“No.”

Alberto was forced to face the result of a decision he had once thought simple. It was dreadful. Having to help someone else—it was something he fundamentally couldn’t accept.

Whatever her reasons, the fact that Rabiana had worked up the courage to ask was admirable. But the person he’d meant when he said “ask for help” had never been himself. Even if he didn’t say that out loud.

“I’ll send Julia. She’ll write it for you.”

“Can’t you… do it yourself?”

“I’m not so free that I can spare time to write letters for others.”

His tone was cold, clearly telling her not to bother him further, but Rabiana didn’t back down.

At first, she had just wanted to irritate Alberto. But on second thought, it didn’t sit right for a servant to know the contents of her letter to Lawrence. Julia was different from the maids at Lawrence’s estate, but Rabiana still couldn’t fully trust her.

Alberto, on the other hand, was of similar status—and the kind of man who wanted his wife to maintain a proper image. At the very least, he wouldn’t go around sharing the contents of her letter with others.

“It’ll only take a moment. Lawrence is a friend, but if someone else hears, it could be misunderstood…”