“It’s only been a few days, but… everyone seems to be doing well.”

“I see.”

It wasn’t as shocking as Bleria had feared. She blinked slowly and muttered to herself.

“That’s good to hear.”

Daisy awkwardly changed the subject.

“Oh, right! Have you heard about the destination? We’re heading to Conercio in the north!”

“Conercio…?”

“It’s a small city, but there’s a port in the neighboring town, so many merchants and tourists come and go. It’s also a good place to lay low. The attention will fade in about half a year, and then you can cross the border.”

“Seems like there’ll be too many eyes.”

“That’s actually better. You might run into someone who remembers you if you go somewhere too remote. Personal connections could make things messy. With your distinctive hair color, though, you won’t arouse suspicion as long as you dye it.”

Daisy explained quickly.

“Of course, you must keep your face hidden, too. Even if it’s not the hair,… your face is too noticeable.”

“…”

“You must be bored. Shall we dye your hair the next time the carriage stops? I brought some dye—”

“I have some, too.”

Bleria took out a glass bottle she had prepared. It was a gift from Eos Liche the last time they met. Daisy’s eyes widened.

“Whaley-brand dye? That must have been hard to get in the Empire.”

At the mention of “Whaley,” Bleria froze momentarily but shook off the thought. At this point, the truth didn’t matter. Daisy carefully took the glass bottle and examined it.

“It’s not a flashy color, so this should be fine.”

“Can you tell the color just by looking at it?”

“Yes. It usually turns out a bit darker than the liquid’s color. With this, your hair will come out caramel-colored.”

Bleria couldn’t help but laugh.

Caramel again, after all this time—there was no escaping her roots. After struggling so hard for so long, she was back where she started.

It was absurd, but she also felt oddly relieved. Now, she didn’t have to wear someone else’s clothes anymore.

Daisy blinked her wide eyes.

“Lady Bleria?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, right. Come to think of it, you’ll need to decide on a name to use there.”

“Mel.”

Without hesitation, Mel Slopey said,

“My name is Mel Slopey.”

***

It was a day like no other. The fabric slipped away, bare skin touched, and the still, heated air filled with shallow breaths. As if it were natural, he reached to hold her face and kiss her, only for it to shift into someone else’s unfamiliar features.

Eos Liche spoke.

“It’s fortunate that the young duke isn’t sentimental. I was worried you might still be hung up on Bleria Heaven.”

A fleeting sense of floating, followed by a long fall and an overwhelming emptiness. When he finally opened his eyes, Gopher was awake from the dream.

“…”

He had fallen asleep on the sofa in his study.

A dream where Bleria turned into Eos midway through their time together—it was rare for Gopher, who hardly remembered even ordinary dreams, let alone nightmares. Was the dead Bleria trying to vent her frustrations on him?

Vent her frustrations, huh.

The idea had come to him absentmindedly, but it seemed plausible enough.

Even after Bleria’s death, Gopher Allnight was doing just fine. The only change in his life was that his fiancée had shifted from Bleria Heaven to Eos Liche—now Eos Heaven.

It was absurd, but Stella had worried herself sick, though the engagement was never broken. They had already received the Heaven family’s privileged prophecy—even if it held no practical value—and several businesses were intertwined. Not to mention, the Heavens had handed over the emerald mines in the process.

Stella had put it bluntly:

“You’re partly responsible for allowing it, so bear this much disgrace.”

Gopher knew things Stella didn’t, but he didn’t bother to argue. By now, it didn’t seem to matter who he was with.

After all, even after Bleria’s death, the world continued as if nothing had happened. If ghosts existed, it wouldn’t be surprising if she felt wronged.

He pressed his fingers to his temple and checked his pocket watch out of habit. There wasn’t anything on his schedule. After all—

“With all the talk, take a break from work for a while,” Stella had said.

It was unusual for her to suggest rest.

What should he do now? Gopher drummed his fingers on the armrest as if playing the piano.

He didn’t have hobbies to pass the time. Before adulthood, there had been no such thing as a day off, and afterward, he had spent his free time visiting Bleria.

Perhaps he should spend this time on her.

Should I make her a grave?

No answer came. Of course, it was a rhetorical question.

Her body had been burned, so there was no coffin to make. He could gather what remnants he could, bury them, set up a headstone, and leave some flowers. Ah.

She didn’t like white flowers.

Then, what flowers did she like? Nothing came to mind—flowers or anything else.

Because of her fixation on appearing noble, Bleria had rarely shared much about herself.

She ate what others ate and wore the clothes that suited her best. She had once liked baby’s breath but soon came to despise it.

Gopher paused and searched his memory, finally recalling one thing.

“I want you to love me.”

It wasn’t worth much now, as he wasn’t offering himself up. Looking back, she had never outright said she loved him either—only hinted at it indirectly.

Gopher lowered his gaze to the floor momentarily, then resumed his thoughts. He needed something to leave at the grave. Ah, perhaps it would be written there.

He rose from the sofa, his body feeling sluggish, perhaps due to his lack of training. Dragging himself, he moved deeper into the study and soon returned to the couch, carrying Dewey Robe’s journal.

Though he had read it once, it was years ago, and he could hardly recall its contents. The words inside felt entirely new to him.

「…

Norma’s little kid is fascinating. Such a tiny body, yet it scurries around with ease. Her hands are incredibly nimble for someone so small—it’s like they’ve spent their whole life doing housework.

Now that I think about it, maybe she really has. With parents who practically lived at the gambling house, how well could they have cared for the kid? Probably locked them up alone in the house.」

「…

It seems Norma barely fed her scraps, but she gained some weight. Hmm. When she was just skin and bones, I didn’t notice, but now her face is instead…」

「…

It had been a while since I last saw Norma’s brat, and I almost thought they’d kidnapped someone else’s kid. Even the parents’ faces, though haggard, were passable, but how could something this pretty exist? A commoner born with such a face—it’s as if she weren’t meant for an easy life. I wonder how much she’d fetch when she’s grown—several golds, maybe?」

「…

Haha. She walked around with her head bowed like a chicken with a broken neck. When I asked why, she was told not to show her face. Haha. Were they afraid someone might kidnap her if they showed it? Hmm. Though, I suppose it’s not entirely ridiculous.」

「…

When the kid smiled a little, someone hit her, and I was so startled I intervened. Do they realize how much it would cost if a scar formed on that face?」

「…

The kid almost died, and I wouldn’t have even gotten my investment back. Was she hiding her illness out of shock from being abandoned by their parents? When she was smaller, she used to say she was sick right away.

Come to think of it, back then, she kind of liked Norma. Being picked up when they had nowhere else to go made them follow Norma around like a little chick.

Does she only hide things from people she doesn’t trust? I’ll need to keep a closer eye on this.」

At that passage, Gopher paused.

Memories of the past surfaced unexpectedly. After waiting all day for him, Bleria had left the next day, looking unwell, according to the butler. Yet, she had shown no sign of struggle.

She left while he was away and, for some time, used the excuse of illness to cut off contact entirely.

The next time they met was at the Allnight year-end banquet. She seemed healthy, so he hadn’t given it much thought.

Perhaps it wasn’t an excuse after all…

He had always known Bleria didn’t fully trust him, but this was the first time he saw tangible evidence.

She had shown signs of poor health before their trip to hear the prophecy. She appreciated his concern and even brought him a pendant. What had changed after that?

“Then, the pendant…”

“After inquiring about your affairs from the nanny, guiding me toward that person, deceiving me, making me uneasy, and then acting as if you were offering goodwill—was that not betrayal?”

Was that the issue? Was it that the root of her mistrust ultimately stemmed from…

“Young Master, the Duchess is calling for you.”

The sound of a knock and the following voice snapped Gopher out of his thoughts.

She’s already dead; thinking about this is meaningless.

Ultimately, no single line in the journal mentioned what Bleria liked.

He returned the journal to its place, stood, tidied his disheveled appearance, and left the study, where Stella’s servant awaited him. Gopher cleared his mind and followed.

Nearby, the faint murmurs of other servants reached his ears.

“Is he still upset about that incident? He hasn’t smiled at all.”

“Exactly. It’s terrifying to see someone who always smiles acting like this.”