“A love letter? To me?”

“Yes. Here.”

Roen hurriedly placed a pink envelope on the table.

The elaborate envelope, decorated with roses and gold leaf, was such an embarrassing shade of pink that anyone would recognize it as a love letter.

Jean stared at the pink envelope with a frown, as if he were looking at an insect.

“I can’t believe this. That you would think to visit me carrying another woman’s love letter.”

His tone was strangely sharp. Something seemed to have touched a nerve.

Roen quickly spoke with a slightly flustered expression:

“Well, naturally, since it was a commission I received…”

His expression hardened even more at her explanation. He also seemed somewhat disappointed.

What’s going on? Why is he angry?

Roen trailed off, startled by Jean’s piercing gaze.

She couldn’t understand why, but her instincts warned her not to say anything more.

“Have you already given up? You boasted that you would make me the husband of the Duchess of Roxburgh. Did you realize it would be too difficult?”

Jean unpleasantly flicked the letter on the table with his fingertip, causing it to fall to the floor.

“Wh-what?”

Flustered, Roen quickly bent down to pick up the envelope. Then, with a dissatisfied expression, she spoke sharply:

“Aren’t you being too harsh? It’s not like she sent you a challenge to a duel—she sent a love letter because she likes you. To treat it so carelessly…”

“Who asked for it? I’d prefer a duel challenge.”

“What? How can you say that?”

“I don’t need it. Whether it’s a duel challenge or a love letter, they have nothing to do with me. I have no reason to respond to emotions that others have fabricated based on their own fantasies about me. Above all, it smells as foul as a sewer, which is dreadful. So would you please remove it?”

Roen’s hand holding the envelope tensed.

What should she do?

Suddenly, she realized what might be wrong.

Unlike his usual self, he seemed unusually sensitive and angry—perhaps the perfume she had dropped on the envelope was irritating him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprayed perfume on the envelope. I didn’t know you disliked perfume.”

Though she knew full well that no amount of wiping would remove it, Roen wiped the perfumed area with her sleeve.

“Who said I dislike perfume? What makes me unbearably irritated is…”

Jean trailed off and glared at Roen. His silver-blue eyes sharpened with displeasure.

He clearly had something to say but was holding back.

No, rather than holding back, it seemed he himself wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted to say.

‘This is difficult. He’s truly impossible to read.’

Roen bit her lip as she tried to guess his intentions, but she couldn’t figure him out at all.

“Please finish what you were—”

“Don’t ask! It’s irritating.”

Roen was bewildered as he now shouted at her.

‘Judging by his foul mood, his outing must have gone poorly. He might have met with the Emperor.’

Roen looked at Jean with cool eyes, suppressing her rising anger.

If he had met Edwin, the Emperor would have questioned him about the Duchess of Roxburgh’s public marriage proposal.

That would explain why he was acting like an agitated beast.

Yes, rather than getting angry and fighting with him, she needed to find another approach.

Above all, she was currently standing before him on behalf of her client.

‘Tch. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth is my motto.’

Her revenge would have to wait for another time.

“I apologize, Your Grace. Your reaction is so different from others I’ve met that I seem to have made a mistake.”

Roen apologized immediately.

“You’ve had many such commissions, it seems?”

“As you would know from investigating me beforehand, yes. I have quite a high success rate, which makes me popular.”

“I don’t know how other nobles reacted, but I find it annoying. So it would be wise not to make the foolish mistake of visiting my mansion on such matters again.”

Jean spoke firmly, as if to say he wouldn’t allow it a second time.

Fortunately, his expression seemed to have softened somewhat compared to earlier.

Roen took a deep breath as if she had made a decision, then gripped the envelope in her hand firmly.

“It won’t happen again. However, I’ve already accepted this commission and have a duty to convey its contents to you. So please allow me to do my job now. Please understand. Ahem!”

Roen cleared her throat quickly to adjust her voice. Then, before he could stop her, she began speaking.

“To my dear Duke. Do you know the joy of discovering light in the midst of deep darkness? Do you feel the fullness when the morning sun shines upon flower petals laden with dew?”

“What are you—”

Jean frowned as he watched Roen speak in a sweet voice, as if reciting poetry.

“Shh! It will be over soon, so please wait a moment. Ahem!”

Roen cleared her throat again and continued in an even sweeter voice, almost whispering.

“The moment I first saw you at Uriel Square, I thanked God for blessing me with two eyes. I was happy to be able to whisper your name with my lips, and joyful that I could scatter flowers in your path with my own hands.”

As Roen recited the letter, she recalled her first meeting with Jean at Uriel Square.

Her heart fluttered strangely as she remembered that moment when she had been nearly blinded by his cool, beautiful presence.

Her earlobes grew hot as she felt as though she herself had written the love letter.

‘Even though it’s just a ghostwritten letter…’

She moistened her lips in embarrassment and looked up. There, she met his silver-blue eyes watching her.

Her fingertips trembled slightly.

“Um, so…”

“Is that the end?”

“No, not yet.”

Roen quickly composed herself and resumed reciting the contents of the love letter.

“I wish to see you in the Recluse’s Forest, where the silver waterfall cascades like the Milky Way. On the darkest night when even the shadows hide and hold their breath—the night of the new moon. I will be waiting at the entrance to that place. I desire to share with you that secret moment when pure white petals turn crimson at the touch of your breath.”

After finishing, Roen glanced sideways at Jean.

The silver-blue eyes that had been glaring at her were now looking at her hand.

Roen instinctively hid the envelope behind her back.

“Well, that’s the content of the love letter. I think I’ve completed my duty now, so I should go—”

“Give it to me.”

“Pardon?”

When she stupidly asked again, Jean’s brow noticeably furrowed.

“Oh, the love letter? Why suddenly—”

“I want to check it myself. To verify if what you recited matches the content.”

Jean extended his hand as if he really intended to check.

Roen bit her lip in bewilderment. Then she instinctively clutched the letter tightly.

In truth, the part about the pure white petals that Roen had added at the end was something she had improvised, thinking he wouldn’t check the letter.

‘Could he have noticed? That I was teasing him?’

In high society, when sending love letters, a woman’s lips and purity were often represented as white flowers.

And suggesting that the Duke’s hot breath would touch them was an invitation not just for a kiss, but for more intimate acts.

Even someone with little interest in such matters would understand the implied meaning.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

Roen shook her head while firmly gripping the letter to prevent it from being taken.

Jean laughed incredulously at her attitude.

“Didn’t you bring that love letter to give to me? Yet now you won’t hand it over. Surely the content isn’t different from what you recited?”

“No, it’s not. But the moment you rejected the love letter, it ceased to be yours. And since I’ve already recited its contents to you, there’s no need for you to verify it.”

Roen chewed her lip nervously, hoping her nonsensical excuse would somehow work.

She was frantically thinking of how to dispose of the letter.

Knock knock!

Just then, there was a knock, and Marian’s voice came from outside.

“Your Grace, I’ve brought your tea.”

What a relief.

While Roen stood there in relief, Marian entered pulling a tray and began setting new teacups and simple desserts on the table.

During this time, Jean sat without saying a word.

Roen’s mind was racing.

Then, as Marian set the teapot filled with hot water on the table, a brilliant idea flashed in her mind.

“Marian, let me pour the tea.”

Roen subtly approached Marian.

Marian’s calm brown eyes turned to Roen, and she nodded.

“Then I’ll leave it to you, Miss Simonetta.”

After bowing respectfully to Jean, Marian began walking toward the door.

Not missing this moment, Roen picked up the teapot.

Then, pretending it was an accident, she poured hot water on the envelope she had placed beside her.

“Oh no! What should I do?”

“What happened, Miss Simonetta?”

Marian, who had been walking toward the door, quickly approached Roen.

Marian looked worriedly at the water soaking the table.

“Are you hurt?”

“Well, some water splashed on my hand…”

“Oh dear. Let me see your hand.”

Marian grabbed Roen’s hand and began examining it carefully.

It was only a few drops, but her skin had turned red as if severely scalded.

“I think we need to apply some medicine. Please wait here while I fetch it. Or perhaps you should come with me.”

Roen felt guilty as Marian examined her hand with a worried expression.

In truth, it didn’t hurt at all. Her skin just appeared particularly red because it was so pale.

“It’s fine, Marian. I’ll apply medicine when I get home. It will heal quickly. Thank you for your concern.”

Roen gently withdrew her hand and smiled at Marian.

It was then that she met Jean’s silver-blue eyes, which had been watching the two with an incredulous expression.

Roen bit her lip.

His eyes clearly held mockery, as if he knew exactly why she had done this.

‘It’s fine. Even if he knows, what can he do? He may have suspicions, but the evidence has already been destroyed by the hot water.’

The water-soaked love letter would surely be smudged beyond recognition.

Roen faced Jean with an innocent expression, as if she knew nothing.

For the first time, the corner of his mouth curved upward in a slight smile.

Thump.

What… what was that?