“What the f***, I swear, if I ever get my hands on them—!”

“You think just talking will do anything? I’m going to rip that mouth of yours wide op—!”

“You goddamn son of a—!”

Rather than birds chirping, a string of expletives, the kind that made one want to scrub their ears clean, pierced through the morning air.

So, another day had begun.

Lady Mifaro, trapped in a small house roughly the size of her original bedroom back at the count’s estate, opened her eyes.

“Ha… This is some real bull—.”

Every morning, as soon as she woke up, she was greeted with a barrage of shockingly colorful profanity that she had never encountered.

And considering her miserable circumstances, it was only natural for similar curses to spill freely from her lips.

Lady Mifaro grimaced and slowly raised her body, unconsciously pressing her fingers to her furrowed brow before letting out a hollow laugh.

“You shouldn’t frown! It’ll leave wrinkles on your forehead!”

Her personal maid’s voice rang with a sharp clarity.

Stretching her arm from the small bed, she sipped tea on the nightstand beside her. The scent was harsh and cheap, nothing like her favorite tea.

At least she could use her arms freely now.

The knight had seen the wounds on her wrists and, absurdly enough, had looked utterly devastated before untying her.

Who was supposed to be devastated here? How could the one who kidnapped her make such a face?

Just recalling it made her blood boil.

To make matters worse, her ankles were still securely bound with a ribbon.

Like every other day, she instinctively tried to strain her foot and snap the ribbon, but as expected, it didn’t budge.

A hoarse voice, so rough she barely recognized it as her own, escaped with a sigh.

“Ugh. No matter how long I drink this, I’ll never get used to the smell.”

Despite her complaint, she didn’t leave a single drop of the tea behind.

Boiled potatoes, overcooked red beans, and a few scraps of mashed meat from an unknown part of some animal.

That was all she was given to eat here.

The only thing that didn’t make her nauseous was the boiled potato, so it was difficult to endure the hunger unless she drank the awful tea.

“I’m sorry,” the knight said, bowing his head deeply, his tone dripping with regret.

“Please endure it for just a little longer. I wish I could bring you food that suits your taste, but such luxuries aren’t available here.”

Lady Mifaro said nothing.

There was nothing to say.

Even if she were feasting on the grandest delicacies served to the emperor himself, the mere sight of him would make everything taste like ash.

She swallowed those words, pressing them down.

She knew better than to provoke him when she was already kidnapped.

“My Lady, young master, remember this. If bad people take you away and lock you up somewhere, just do as they say.”

“But they’re bad people! Why should I?”

“Because whatever they demand isn’t as important as your safety. That’s the most crucial thing.”

At the time, she hadn’t understood those words; afterward, she’d forgotten them.

Until she was kidnapped like this.

Lady Mifaro set down the teacup and buried her face against her drawn-up knees.

Would she ever return?

Every night, as she drifted off to sleep, she wished that when she opened her eyes, she would wake up in her room as if this had all been a lie.

But nothing changed. Every morning, she was met with an unfamiliar ceiling and a stream of curses that had once felt alien but now felt almost routine.

She pressed hard against the corners of her eyes, suppressing the tears that threatened to spill.

She refused to cry over something like this.

Lifting her head, she ran her fingers through her hair, which had been left unkempt for days.

There was no comb, no maid to assist her, so her fingers were the only means of tidying herself. But even that gave her a small sense of control.

She dusted off her clothes, straightened her posture, and declared loudly,

“They must be looking for me.”

And they would find her.

A direct descendant of her noble house had disappeared—there was no way her family would sit idly by.

Even if she set aside sentimental notions of parental love or affection, they would never let this slide for the sake of their prestige as an esteemed count’s household.

So just a little longer.

Once she escaped from here, she would tear that bastard to shreds—

Her thoughts spun into unspeakably brutal imaginings, so vividly detailed that they almost felt tangible.

Lady Mifaro pressed her palms against her face when her blurred gaze sharpened with renewed focus.

“What am I even thinking…?”

She had never imagined herself capable of such ruthless thoughts in her wildest dreams.

And yet, here she was, painting such a scene in her mind, and all it brought her was an exhilarating sense of clarity—no guilt, no remorse.

She clenched her teeth.

Why was she the one who had to suffer through this?

He had spewed nonsense about love and reduced her to this state, yet he was out there, walking around with a perfectly composed face.

Why was she the only one left to burn inside?

Her insides churned with rage; her vision tinted red.

Breathing heavily, she seethed in silence—until the creak of the door opening made her shoulders flinch.

Only one person ever came in and out of this place.

The knight who had kidnapped her.

No longer a knight nor a guardian—just a criminal.

Somehow, despite the place looking utterly crude, there had been no intruders.

If only a thief would break in, she could at least beg for her life or throw money at them to help her escape.

“My Lady, it’s time for your meal.”

The knight placed a plate in front of her.

Since her ankles were tied, her movement was mostly limited to the bed except in urgent situations.

Lady Mifaro accepted the plate without even looking at him properly.

Boiled potatoes and red beans—she didn’t need to check to know the rest was the same as always.

Her already meager appetite completely vanished, but her instincts told her that if she didn’t eat, she wouldn’t last. Forcing herself, she moved the spoon mechanically.

She had never been a big eater, and there was only so much she could shove down her throat against her will. In the end, she left more than half untouched.

“Would you like to have a bit more?”

“I’m done.”

She had long abandoned the formal respect meant for the shield that protected her family and the sword that struck down their enemies.

The knight, who had intended to urge her a few more times, shut his mouth.

In the dreadful silence, only the clinking of utensils echoed.

Struggling to suppress the nausea that threatened to make her vomit at any moment, Lady Mifaro curled into herself.

Looking at her with concern, the knight hesitated and raised a hand as if to pat her back—only to hover uncertainly above her.

Eventually, his hand never reached her, and the dark shadows under his eyes deepened.

Having finished what could barely be called a meal, Lady Mifaro, as always, sat in silence. When the knight got up, ready to leave, she suddenly asked,

“Why are you doing this?”

She truly wanted to know.

What exactly was he thinking to commit such madness…?

The knight’s eyes burned with a passion that contained only her as he answered,

“Because you deserve to be loved!”

He truly believed that.

He was convinced that the person who gave her that love was none other than himself.

At the very least, he thought he was a better choice than the fiancé she had complained about—one who had rushed things too quickly.

Of course, he had never asked her, but wasn’t the answer obvious?

“You also have the right to live freely as you wish.”

Yes. She had the right to love someone freely, not just the person her family had chosen for her.

And that someone would be him.

His emotions, fueled by constant self-justification, could be summed up in one word—‘anxiety.’

If Raylin had seen him, she would have nodded in understanding.

After all, it was a feeling that criminals inevitably carried.

The joy of success was fleeting, but the burden afterward—one that might last a lifetime—was far heavier.

Fear of being caught, helplessness from being unable to turn back time, regret…

The knight was no different.

He thought everything he had wished for would magically come true once they were alone together.

But reality had strayed far from his fantasies.

She had refused to run away with him, and even after arriving at their first hiding place, she never stopped trying to escape.

“Let me go! It’s not too late! If you release me now, I won’t have you pursued.”

Her tear-streaked face and desperate voice clung to his ears like an unshakable curse.

Could it be… she had absolutely no feelings for him at all?

Every night, as he lay on the floor beside the bed, watching her exhausted face as she slept from struggling all day, the thought took over his mind.

And each time, he trembled.

No, his entire body shook.

‘What have I done?’