“Your Grace.”

Ruben glanced at him, waiting for his inquiry. Enoch opened his mouth as if to say something but then reconsidered. “It’s nothing,” he muttered. A bitter taste lingered on his tongue.

Enoch had secretly met with Ikael not long ago to request an investigation into Marquis Hewells. During their meeting, Ikael had left him with a cryptic remark.

“How is the princess doing?”

“Why bring her up now?”

“Just a thought. You should keep an eye on her.”

“On her?”

“Yeah. Just in case.”

Though Ikael’s words unsettled him, Enoch still dismissed Helia as a foolish princess oblivious to her place. However, given Ikael’s keen and accurate judgment, Enoch decided to investigate. He assigned someone to observe her movements, particularly her visits to a room off-limits even to dukes. Reports came back that her attire changed between entering and leaving the room. Predictably, Enoch sneered. ‘A vain and clueless princess, lost in luxury. The world would be better off without her.’

A knock on the door interrupted their thoughts. Ruben responded calmly, “Come in.”

Will entered cautiously. “Your Grace, a messenger has arrived.”

“A messenger?”

“Yes, sent by the Saintess.”

Ruben’s brow twitched at that. Perhaps she was finally heeding his request to meet outside? However, the messenger’s following words shattered his expectations.

“The Saintess plans to visit the Duke’s estate tomorrow, accompanied by Marquis Caros.”

‘What?’ Ruben was stunned. It wasn’t the unilateral notice itself that shocked him. The issue lay with her companion.

“Is my godfather in the capital?”

Veron Caros. The renowned protector of the royal family and the guardian of the northern fortress. He had also declared himself the godfather of Ruben and the Saintess after their parents’ deaths. Typically, he stayed in his territory and rarely visited the capital. But now, it seemed he had made an exception. Ruben, delighted, turned to the messenger.

“When did he arrive?”

“He’s been staying at his residence in the capital for three days.”

“In that case, tomorrow…”

Ruben’s expression darkened instantly. He was momentarily at a loss for words, having just remembered who was staying at the duchy.

Ruben hesitated. Could he really bring these two to where Helia was? Could he introduce them to her? He felt uncertain about it all. It would be better to excuse himself and meet them outside instead. He didn’t want to bring them here, specifically not near Helia. These two people were precious to him.

Sensing his hesitation, the messenger added, “They also mentioned that they’d like you to be at the estate, no matter how busy you are.”

Ruben let out a bitter smile. The message’s meaning was likely different from what the messenger conveyed; Lette probably added it, knowing he might suggest meeting elsewhere.

It seemed Lette was indeed determined to meet Helia. Ruben nodded quietly. If this was her choice, he had no right to stop her. It was something Lette had to face and accept herself. Still, he couldn’t help but worry.

After the messenger left, Enoch asked in concern, “What do you intend to do?”

“What can I do? The Saintess and my godfather are coming; I can’t exactly turn them away, can I?”

“Your Grace!” Enoch called out, trying to dissuade him, but it was futile. Though he understood Enoch’s concerns, no one could change Lette’s mind once she decided.

“We can’t let Her Highness the Princess and the Saintess meet!”

“So, can you convince the Saintess to change her mind?”

“Well…”

“It’s pointless. Lette will not be swayed.”

“…”

“It would be better to prepare for what lies ahead.”

Ruben pulled on the bell cord, and Wil, waiting outside, entered.

“How is the princess faring?”

“She is resting at the Star Residence.”

“And tomorrow?”

“To my knowledge, she has no specific plans.”

It would be convenient if she’d made arrangements to attend a tea party or something, but, of course, things never went as he wished. Ruben sighed lightly.

It’s best to give her a heads-up.

Enoch appeared resigned. Meanwhile, Ruben instructed Will, “Inform Her Highness that the Saintess and Marquis Caros will visit tomorrow. She may come to the Sky Residence in the morning if she wishes to join. But also let her know she’s not obligated to attend if she prefers not.”

Will nodded and left. Ruben sighed, turning to gaze out the window. He’d included a final line out of faint hope, but Helia would show up tomorrow. It looked like it would be a difficult day.

—

“What?”

“The Saintess and Marquis Caros will visit the Duke tomorrow and join him for lunch. He asked if you’d like to attend as well.”

Helia looked as if she’d just heard the world was ending. Even hearing it again, she couldn’t believe it: the Saintess coming here, and Ruben actually intending to let her meet him.

“But he also said there’s no need to attend if it would make you uncomfortable, so you can decide as you wish.”

‘Ha, of course.’

Helia muttered to herself. That part was probably Ruben’s true intention; he, of all people, would not want her and the Saintess to meet.

She quietly recalled Lette. That first encounter with the Saintess was also their last.

She remembered the shock of seeing her for the first time—the small girl walking toward her, pure excitement lighting up her blue eyes yet concealing a strange, murky depth and a heavy shadow by her side. And yet the girl called herself a saint. Helia was repulsed by her unbreakable dignity and relentless poise, even as she deceived people with that title.

And she recalled how Ruben Effenberg had stepped in to shield Lette from her. His unyielding green eyes had looked down at her with disdain.

But it hadn’t ended there. He opposed her—where she could see it and where she could not.

Every time, it shattered her heart. It was heartbreaking to see him glaring at her with such contempt while shielding someone else. She had wanted to scream, ‘Don’t look at me like that!’ How could he care for others so profoundly while remaining indifferent to her? His coldness drove her to despair. There was a time, long ago when she had only hoped he might look back at her just once. But now, all that remained was the desire to wound each other.

‘This is your fault,’ she thought.

Even if it happened just once, she would have been content with that alone.

“Your Highness?”

The servant delivering Ruben’s message called her softly. Helia nodded slightly to show she was listening. Thinking about how Ruben was probably expecting her refusal filled her with irritation and defiance.

“If the Saintess is coming, of course, I’ll attend. Tell the Duke not to worry—I’ll be there without fail.”

Helia spoke lightly, raising one corner of her mouth into a sly smile like a scheming witch.

Now, all that remained was for them to wound each other. And that was something Helia Bailey excelled at.

✥✥✥

The following day, as previously notified, Helia visited the Sky Residence early.

“You have arrived.”

Ruben greeted Helia courteously. Her blue dress boasted a full skirt with a petticoat, adorned with a pearl-woven belt. Her sapphire necklace and ring dazzled in the morning sunlight. Although a bit excessive for welcoming a guest, it was none of Ruben’s concern.

Helia smiled slightly. The firm smile held an air of determination.

“It’s getting tiresome exchanging these same greetings after so long.”

“…”

“When will the guests arrive?”

“They should be here before lunch.”

“Then let’s go inside and wait.”

Helia walked into the Sky Residence as if it were her own home. Her familiarity with the place was so natural that Ruben could only respond with a dumbfounded chuckle.

She sat on the drawing room sofa, and Ruben quietly took a seat across from her. Though facing her was a bit uncomfortable, it was still far better than sitting beside her.

Will prepare a few cookies as light refreshments. Tea would be served when the guests arrived, and they’d just finished breakfast, so it was a practical choice. However, even after everyone left, neither of them touched the cookies.

“I heard the Saintess has a companion with her.”

As usual, Helia broke the silence first, seemingly with genuine curiosity. Ruben answered without much reaction.

“It is Marquis Veron Caros.”

“Veron Caros?”