“Ah…!”

Amelia let out a soft moan as her body tensed. By now, she should have grown accustomed to this, yet the initial moments of accepting Josef always felt overwhelming.

She felt Josef pause above her. Soon, his firm torso pressed against her, and his fingers gently sifted through her hair. With his other hand, he lifted her arm to rest over his shoulder.

Even in this moment, Amelia couldn’t shake the thought that she mustn’t leave any marks on the crown prince’s body. Yet Josef’s steady, probing movements instinctively made her grip him tighter.

His tongue slipped into her parted lips, exploring her mouth slowly, deliberately.

Josef was never content with just one night, something Amelia had resigned herself to. Yet no matter how many nights passed, she couldn’t grow used to them.

At times, she wished he would be rough, take what he wanted, and tire of her so he wouldn’t seek her out anymore.

But Josef acted contrary to her expectations. He observed her reactions, cautiously opening her up and delving deeply, as if there were still much more he wished to claim.

Only when Amelia, overwhelmed by rising waves of pleasure, clung to him in tears would Josef finally seem satisfied, releasing his desire into her. Until then, his relentless rhythm persisted.

Tonight was no different. Amelia’s breathing quickened, and at some point, her arms wrapped tightly around Josef’s neck.

Her body, initially unsure, began to move in harmony with his, responding instinctively to the pleasure coursing through her.

Held in Josef’s embrace, Amelia reached an intense, almost unbearable climax. Each time, it felt as though he was laying bare every inch of her being, and she hated it.

“Amelia.”

Josef’s face was close enough that their noses nearly touched as he spoke. Amelia’s languid eyes slowly turned to meet his.

“Say my name.”

She stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to draw some vitality from the faint light within the dim room.

“…Are you trying to turn me into a harlot?”

Her soft voice, hoarse compared to his, carried a hint of defiance.

“Do I have to stoop to that as well?”

Josef let out a silent laugh, seemingly amused. His hand continued to idly toy with her hair.

“Then treat me as you would a courtesan.”

Without waiting for a response, he lifted a few strands of her hair and kissed them. His lips then trailed down, brushing her forehead, her nose, and finally slipping beneath her chin. It seemed he had no intention of stopping at just once tonight.

***

“A war in Brienne?”

Marika’s eyebrows arched in surprise as she leisurely sipped her tea in the drawing room.

“It almost came to that.”

Seated across from her, Duke Mieschko set down his cup as he spoke.

“What was the reason?”

“That much remains unclear. It seems the crown prince resolved the matter effectively, though.”

The duke didn’t appear particularly interested in the topic.

Their conversation had veered into this territory only tangentially. Marika had been lamenting a delay in the arrival of a dress she’d ordered from a boutique. Her father had explained that shipments to stores had been delayed due to unrest in Brienne, which had nearly escalated into war.

“It seems His Highness is weary of war these days.”

“Pardon?”

Marika tilted her head, not fully grasping his remark. The duke chuckled at her puzzled expression, apparently finding it endearing.

“In the past, he would have personally led the cavalry to resolve such matters. Or perhaps he had other reasons for being concerned about a war in Brienne.”

“Do you think so?”

The word “concern” seemed ill-suited to describe Josef. Marika’s doubtful expression prompted the duke to respond offhandedly.

“After all, isn’t Amelia here as a hostage? That signifies Brienne’s pledge of loyalty to the empire in exchange for its protection.”

“…”

As her father drained his cup, Marika traced the edge of her teacup with her fingers, lost in thought.

Was Josef the type of man to honor such grand ideals?

He didn’t seem capable of empathy or leniency. From Marika’s perspective as his betrothed, having experienced only his rigid politeness, that much was clear. To gain something from him, one had to offer something of equal value.

But what could a mere princess of a minor duchy possibly offer him…?

Marika’s hand, which had been idly moving, suddenly froze.

“Surely not.”

Marika pictured Amelia—the aloof, demure woman who rarely smiled and often seemed detached from her surroundings.

If it had been some other young lady of the court, known for her boldness, perhaps it would be believable. But Amelia? That upright, stoic woman?

And even Josef responding to such advances? Unlikely. He had never so much as batted an eye at women more dazzling than Amelia, whether inside or outside the palace.

Yet fragmented memories began surfacing in her mind.

Josef and Amelia dancing a waltz at the debutante ball. Her ever-present figure in his line of sight during hunts and theater outings. His abrupt silences during formal conversations whenever the mood struck him.

The vague recollections started to take on clarity. Marika bit her lip.

***

Amelia’s days and nights followed the same monotonous pattern.

Late at night, she would drag her weary body back to her chamber and collapse into sleep. When she awoke late in the morning, she would remain languidly sprawled on the bed, staring blankly into space.

There were times when she drifted back to sleep until the sweltering afternoon breeze wafted through her open window.

She neither wanted to leave the mansion nor turn her attention to anything else. Her mind had narrowed to the tip of a needle, leaving no room to enjoy the summer.

Thanks to Betty’s silent adjustment to Amelia’s stagnant lifestyle, it took Amelia some time to realize she shouldn’t have let things be this way.

It was only when the sky turned crimson with the sunset that she descended to the mansion’s first floor as usual.

“…”

The door to Helen’s room down the hallway was half-open. Just as she found this unusual, Betty stepped out from behind the door.

“Betty?”

“…My lady.”

Betty quickly approached, her hurried steps different from her usual brisk pace. The shift in atmosphere made Amelia’s chest tighten.

“What’s wrong?”

“My lady, Helen isn’t well.”

Amelia’s face turned pale in an instant. Betty anticipated her reaction and swiftly elaborated.

“She’s been looking unwell for a few days now, but today, she hasn’t left her room all day. When I checked on her just now, she had a fever.”

Amelia barely nodded before rushing into Helen’s room.

“Helen? Are you unwell?”

Amelia clung to the side of the bed, but Helen, lying down, could barely open her eyes and didn’t have the strength to lift her head from the pillow.

“…My lady.”

Amelia placed the back of her hand against Helen’s cheek. It was so hot that it was impossible to dismiss as mere summer heat.

“Helen, why didn’t you…”

‘Why didn’t you tell me earlier?’ But Amelia stopped herself. She realized she had no right to say such things. After all, she had been the one secluding herself, leaving Helen no chance to speak up. The realization jolted Amelia’s sluggish mind back into focus.

She lightly stroked Helen’s hair, now more white than gray.

“I’m sorry. I should have paid more attention.”

“My lady, please don’t say such things…”

Helen gave a weak smile.

“There’s no need for you to concern yourself with matters like this. This old body of mine was bound to falter sooner or later.”

“Helen, don’t say that.”

Amelia scolded her with a stern expression.

“As you said, your body isn’t what it used to be, so we can’t take a fever lightly. Betty, we need to call a doctor.”

“Yes, my lady. I was about to suggest that, but…”

Betty looked troubled.

“Thinking about it, the doctor at the village monastery is quite a distance away. We’d need a carriage or a horse, and it would take some time.”

As Betty pointed out, this was the imperial capital, not the duchy of Brienne, where her father’s physician was always nearby.

“I don’t feel comfortable leaving Helen alone. We should monitor her condition closely.”

“You’re right. A sudden fever spike could be dangerous…”

Amelia sighed softly. Outside the window, the sun was setting. The traces of the sunset between layers of clouds were beautiful but carried an oddly pressing sense of urgency.

“In that case, I’ll go to the village myself.”

“You, my lady?”

“Yes. It’s too late to summon a carriage. I’ll head to the east gate and ask the guards to lend me one of the patrol horses. That should be faster.”

“My lady…”

Betty, her face filled with concern, followed Amelia, who had already made up her mind and was leaving the room.

“My lady, you don’t have to push yourself so hard. Helen’s fever might subside by morning.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Amelia forced a faint smile.

“Honestly, I need to do this for myself. I feel so anxious that I can’t just sit still.”

“If that’s what you’ve decided, there’s no stopping you…”

Betty nodded but continued to watch her intently.

“…You haven’t been looking well lately.”

“…”

“Please, don’t overexert yourself.”

Amelia offered a faint, wordless smile before stepping out of the room.

Betty, who often assisted Amelia with her baths, sometimes found the lady heading to the bathroom late at night, only to return to find the tub filled with warm water and candles lit—a silent, comforting gesture left behind by Betty.

Betty knew why Amelia left her room at night. She didn’t ask, pretending not to notice. If Amelia ever wished to talk about it, she would listen. Until then, she respected her silence.

This unspoken understanding brought tears to Amelia’s eyes as she rushed out of the mansion.

***

Amelia stepped out of the mansion with hurried steps. The crescent moon was already hanging above the watchtower. Tonight, the seemingly endless summer day felt dishearteningly short.

As she walked along the outer wall, something caught at her ankles—Josef’s voice, beckoning her to the bedroom as if it were only natural.

“…”

Amelia turned her body toward the quiet garden. Beyond it lay the crown prince’s residence. Would he understand if she explained the situation to him?

“No.”

Of course not. At best, he might respond with indifference: So what? If Helen were ill—or even if Amelia herself were—Josef wouldn’t so much as lift a finger.

Amelia decided not to think too far ahead. Experience had taught her that things rarely unfolded as she wished.

Her thoughts returned to Helen, now consumed by worry. What if it was something serious? What if it wasn’t just a minor cold? Would the guards lend her a horse? Perhaps she should have brought some gold coins just in case.

Lost in thought, Amelia suddenly halted when she saw Josef near the east gate.

“…!”

The sight of him standing in an unexpected place stunned her. For a moment, she nearly called out to him.

But she quickly closed her mouth and took a step back, though the sound she made had already caught his attention.

“…”

Josef, standing by the carriage, turned around. In her daze, Amelia finally noticed her surroundings. He had just finished helping Marika into the carriage.

When Amelia tried to turn and leave, Josef was already approaching her, leaving her no choice but to give up the idea.

“What are you doing here?”

“…”

Josef stood still and gently tilted her chin upward, his fingers brushing against her temple.

“Have you been crying?”

He asked curiously.

“What’s with that expression?”

“…Your Highness…”

“What’s wrong?”

Josef’s hand left her face as Amelia hurriedly stepped back, her gaze shifting beyond him to the carriage.

Inside, Marika sat quietly, her eyes fixed on the two of them.