After a warm bath filled with a soothing scent, Helia sat as the maids guided her to a chair. A faint floral aroma lingered on her skin—lilac infused in the bathwater. The relaxing effect of the lilac made her feel drowsy, so she forced herself to sit straighter and tense her shoulders. The maid drying her hair, sensing her tension, cautiously asked,

“Is there anything else you need?”

Helia shook her head lightly.

“Everyone leaves, except for Lina.”

Lina? A name the maid hadn’t heard before, but she quickly realized Lina must be the royal maid Helia had brought along. She glanced around, spotting Lina standing quietly in the background with dark brown hair and nearly black eyes. Lina didn’t have a noticeable presence, yet as the princess’s sole handmaid, she was likely cherished. Fortunately, she didn’t seem the type to assert her status, which reassured the other maid.

Lina stood at attention once the duchy’s maids tidied up and exited.

“Lina.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Lina bowed respectfully, her posture without flaw.

“Make sure your room is as close to mine as possible.”

“Understood.”

“Only the setting has changed. Just do your job and continue to serve me well.”

“Yes.”

Their conversation was formal, with none of the warmth or solidarity one might expect from those relying on each other in a foreign place. Helia issued her orders coldly, and Lina responded dutifully, accustomed to the tone. To an outsider, their exchange would seem more like one between a commander and subordinate knight than a noblewoman and her maid.

“Dismissed.”

“Yes.”

At Helia’s curt dismissal, Lina left the room, closing the door behind her. Helia stared at the door briefly before collapsing onto the bed. The cool, plush fabric pressed against her cheek.

Helia peeked around the room, taking in the decor—a mix of classical elegance and practicality. Antique furniture, vases of bright flowers, and plants scattered throughout the space made the duchy’s preferred aesthetic instantly clear.

This is where Ruben Effenberg was born and raised.

Warmth spread through her, starting from her toes. Just being here was a comfort to her. It was the only solace.

Turning her head, Helia buried her face in the pillow. She couldn’t fall asleep.

—

Following Will’s guidance, Helia entered the banquet hall.

Ruben’s mansion had separate dining and banquet rooms, the latter used for hosting guests. Helia was a royal guest and was shown at the banquet hall.

The room’s grandeur—from its expansive table and chandeliers to the intricate wall carvings and marble floors—left no detail unattended, yet it felt too vast for just the two of them. The imposing space reminded Helia of the distance Ruben kept from her. Glancing across the table at Ruben, seated at the far end, the feeling grew more assertive.

Ruben had arrived before her and was waiting. When she entered, he rose and escorted her, pulling out her chair and waiting until she was seated before returning to his place. Not a word of greeting passed between them, filling the spacious hall with a heavy silence.

The courses began with a lightly spiced soup containing mushrooms and meat. The head chef of the duchy had prepared a mild menu, as they were unaware of the guests’ tastes. Still, Helia found no flavor in it. The reason was simple—the host across from her silently eating his soup without even a casual inquiry into her preferences.

“It must be tiring to sit through a dinner you don’t enjoy, Duke,” she remarked.

“…”

At this, Ruben looked up, his gaze landing on her bowl of soup. His face tensed slightly when he saw her spoon set aside after only a few sips.

“Is the soup not to your taste?”

“I simply don’t have much of an appetite,” she said, dabbing her mouth with a white napkin. Had her appetite always been so poor? Ruben found himself trying to recall but stopped short.

“I heard you skipped breakfast as well.”

“It’s an honor that you, a busy man, would even know that.”

“…”

She was ready to argue after only a few words. To finish the meal in peace, Ruben ignored her remarks.

Helia gazed at Ruben as he resumed his flawless table manners, lifting spoonfuls of soup composedly. After several more sips, she set her spoon down again, seeming genuinely full. Ruben remained silent; she’d eaten so little that he wondered how she could function.

“If you’d like anything, please let me know anytime. While not on par with the royal chefs, our cooks are quite skilled.”

“I can’t think of anything, really.”

Helia’s response was aloof, and Ruben let her words slide as the next appetizer was served. He assumed she’d make her preferences known in due time; she was accustomed to giving orders and, no doubt, had rarely faced refusal.

Ruben reflected on how such an environment could deeply distort a person, as he witnessed with Helia herself—her ever-stiffening posture and upright stance revealed how unchecked greed could warp a person.

Helia was a woman of insatiable ambition; the world had to yield to her desires. Ruben recalled a rumor circulating among the noblewomen in the kingdom when Zeroth was confirmed as the next in line for the throne.

“Apparently, she even demanded the kingdom be given to her.”

“How outrageous.”

“Though she’s His Majesty’s only blood, isn’t that excessive?”

“Especially when Prince Xeroth is already named as the next heir.”

Helia had shown just how far one’s expanding desires could go. Realizing he was entangled in her ambition filled Ruben with nausea, yet he understood where her obsessive hold over him stemmed from.

‘It must have been her first experience with rejection,’ he thought.

When he had broken his vow, it must have shocked the sheltered flower who had never been denied anything. He could understand how this shock had manifested into such relentless obsession, but understanding and accepting were two different matters. Understanding her obsession did not oblige him to indulge it. Wrong is wrong, and acknowledging one’s flaws and working to correct them makes one human.

“By the way, I do have a request, Duke.”

The lofty, crystalline voice broke through his musings. Incongruous with the nature of her words, her voice was almost hauntingly beautiful. Ruben sometimes thought her voice was too refined for her.

“Go on.”

“I’d like a room that no one can enter.”

A room that no one can enter?

Ruben felt a surge of curiosity. What could she intend with such a place? But he quickly dismissed the thought, recalling her considerable luggage and the servants’ complaints about its weight. Likely, she wanted a place to store her luxury items. Ruben answered dryly.

“As you wish.”

“You’re the master of the house, after all.”

Helia looked down slightly, speaking quietly. Her eyes, partially obscured by shadow, appeared a soft brown.

“That’s of no concern. While you’re here, this house is at your disposal.”

“I don’t think you quite understand my request.”

Helia looked up, meeting Ruben’s gaze steadily. Her golden eyes shone like sunlight, and for some reason, Ruben wanted to look away.

“I’m asking for a space you cannot even enter.”

Ruben halted, his actions momentarily frozen. Though he had no intention of visiting her room, not going by choice and being unable to go were two entirely different matters.

This was Effenberg’s estate, and he, Ruben Effenberg, was its master. In his domain, there should be no place he could not enter. Yet here she was, asking for a space that even he would be barred from.

Ruben was dumbfounded. Was she trying to claim ownership of the estate?

He stared at Helia, who appeared as unbothered as if she were requesting a curtain change.

“May I ask what you intend to do in such a room?”

“Oh, if I were going to tell you, I wouldn’t have asked to keep you out in the first place.”

Helia replied in a high tone as if he had asked a ridiculous question. At that moment, Ruben felt oddly as though she were the one rejecting him, and a strange surge of frustration rose.

‘Ridiculous.’