It was early summer, when even the infamous Sopore Gorge—known for its harsh climate—was brushed with a warm and pleasant breeze.

— Screech.

The wheels ground noisily against the earth as a carriage abruptly slowed. At the moment the black carriage, tinged with a cold silver sheen, stopped in front of the Sopore Marquisate, the sound rang sharply in the sunlit air.

“Hoo…”

Irene, the butler who had already come out to greet the news, straightened her back and drew a deep breath. Though the weather felt like a blessing after so long,

’Why does it feel as though a bitter wind is blowing instead…?’

Seeing the much more tense servants in front of the stopped carriage, Irene straightened her posture again.

Her family had served the Sopore household for generations, but ever since she herself became butler after her father, not a single day had been peaceful.

To be exact—ever since that accident.

— Srrrk.

In line with its reputation for possessing exquisite and powerful magic, the door of the black carriage opened without a sound.

The carriage, moved by the will of the Marquis of Sopore, required no coachman or servant’s hand. It was the skill of the Marchioness, born of an old and noble family of magicians.

Yet, despite her talents, the Marchioness had never bothered to silence the sound of the grinding wheels.

‘She said it was to leave a warning noise, lest the carriage go too fast…’

The Marquis of Sopore had never objected. He was not a man to rush, nor one to oppose his wife’s words without cause.

And so, today Irene witnessed for the first time the rare spectacle of the carriage lurching with a sudden stop—but it did nothing to stir her curiosity. It only heightened her tension.

No sooner had the door opened than a man stepped out, his expression hard and urgent.

“You’ve returned, my lord.”

To the servants bowing respectfully, he offered only a brief nod before striding past them.

Daniel Blackwood.

He was the man who held dominion over the Sopore Gorge, the Empire of Roxbeth’s foremost frontier—and the subject of fervent rumors that he would soon be granted the title of Duke of Gnotician.

‘But right now… he is only a husband rushing to his wife.’

Irene thought to herself as she watched the man approach her with long, purposeful strides.

Daniel’s jet-black hair gleamed as dark as midnight even beneath the blazing sun. His green eyes, tinged with blue, were as cold as ice.

Perhaps it was simply his foul mood that made his features look harsher than usual today.

“You’ve returned.”

He had already reached the mansion’s grand entrance in what felt like a single breath. The fleeting glance of his green eyes before she bowed was deeply sunken.

“Where is Katrina?”

Unlike his usual warm greetings, Daniel’s voice was low and heavy as he brushed past her without pause.

As expected, his steps led straight into the mansion. Irene hastily followed.

“My apologies, my lord, but the Marchioness has requested some time alone—”

“Then where is she?”

For once, Daniel cut her off, demanding a precise answer. All the while, his pace never faltered.

His uncharacteristic impatience revealed his emotions all too clearly.

“She is in the study.”

Understanding his state of mind, Irene finally yielded with a straightforward answer.

“The study…”

Daniel needed no further explanation. He strode directly for the staircase.

No doubt he was heading to the Marchioness’s study on the second floor.

“Please, calm yourself, my lord. As I said, the lady requested that no one disturb her at this time.”

Irene, having somewhat expected things to unfold this way, followed him up the stairs, hurriedly adding her words.

Still, she didn’t rush enough to catch up with the man taking the steps two at a time. In truth, she was grateful that he had run straight here the moment he heard the news.

Because today was… the most miserable day since that accident.

“Don’t even mention it. They were desperate to mock her, you know? At least we realized it in time. Otherwise, she would have just kept smiling, pretending not to notice.”

“There’s a limit to gossiping behind someone’s back. How could grown adults be so petty? I nearly cried just watching her put up with it.”

“It would have been better if she really hadn’t understood anything… What worries me most is that the Marchioness must have ‘heard it all.’”

Recalling what the maids had told her, Irene swallowed a sigh as she stared at Daniel’s back.

Though she hadn’t been there herself, the reports from those who were there made it sound unbearably cruel.

‘The Marchioness surely knew, yet pretended not to. She’s the kind of person who smiles even after hearing such words…’

By now, it was an open secret.

Among the nobility of the Bloodyfield region, Katrina had a secret nickname: the Deaf Marchioness.

Officially, she was always addressed as the Marchioness of Sopore. Yet even those who had once been close to her began, at some point, to call her the Deaf Marchioness in private.

When the Marquis of Sopore recently learned this by chance, he was furious.

But Katrina herself hadn’t been much bothered. Far from being offended, she had gently soothed her angry husband.

‘Sigh… I should have just let it go back then.’

As Irene replayed the maids’ testimonies in her mind, Daniel, too, ascended the stairs with long strides, recalling that very day.

***

『 Don’t make trouble over something so childish. 』

Katrina had patted her husband’s arm with her left hand while swiftly writing a sentence with her right. Daniel exhaled a deep sigh as his eyes fell on the words she’d written.

Even dashed off in haste, her elegant cursive gave a sense of grace.

It was writing that resembled Katrina herself—warm, cheerful, and thoughtful.

『 But— 』

When Daniel began to scribble something hastily in reply, Katrina gently covered his hand with hers, “interrupting” him with kindness.

She had grown quite used to conversing through writing.

In truth, Katrina found her current life—where she no longer had to watch her manners in speech—more comfortable and free than before.

Of course, she never confessed such a thing to her husband, who was always pained for her sake.

『 And besides, I am deaf. It’s not even a false rumor. 』

『 That’s not a term of respect, that’s why. 』

『 It’s fine. Everyone says things like that. What’s the point of forced respect? 』

『 But the Marchioness shouldn’t have to yield like that… 』

『 Instead of wasting time on this, let’s talk about something nicer. My hand hurts. 』

『 Then stop writing. 』

『 That’s mean. 』

『 That’s not what I meant— 』

Daniel set the pencil down on the vanity and lightly tapped the back of her hand. As if to say, enough with the paper—look at me now.

Only then did Katrina lift her head and meet his eyes.

‘What is it?’

There was no voice, but her round, brown eyes seemed to ask the question. The sight was so innocent, so endearing, that Daniel couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“…For us… another… lan… guage… my love.”

At last, he spoke. But it had been so quick that Katrina managed to catch only a few fragmented syllables.

Realizing this, Daniel exaggerated the movements of his lips and pronounced the words again, slowly and clearly.

“F-or. U-s.”

Katrina focused intently on his mouth, sounding out each syllable in her mind as she pieced together the sentence.

“For. Us… an-other… lan-guage… my… love…”

When she finally understood, she lifted her gaze with a sidelong glance.

‘We have another language too, my love.’

The hidden meaning laced within the words made her want to laugh, but she bit her lip instead, feigning a pout.

Daniel held her gaze in silence.

‘Honestly… he’s so shameless.’

Her prim expression and sparkling eyes almost made him hear her chiding voice in his mind.

He gazed at her face for a long time. Even her sulky look was as clear and lovely as watercolor.

Though their conversation had been serious, all focus scattered when he looked into Katrina’s eyes. His mind and heart felt dizzy.

At last, he exhaled deeply and quietly raised a hand. With the back of his fingers, he brushed aside a strand of red hair that had fallen over her round forehead.

Not tucking it back, just brushing lightly—enough to tickle.

“My love… Kat.”

Daniel softly called her name.

Kat. That short syllable was the one word Katrina could recognize from the shape of his lips alone, and it was a nickname he used for her.