“It’s been so long, I nearly forgot your face.”

Adrian said, running a hand over the reflection in the mirror with a hint of wounded disappointment. Despite the welcoming tone, contempt lingered on Adrian’s face.

“I hear you’ve earned yourself a lofty title since I last saw you, the illustrious Duke. Do you really think that suits you?”

A cold, mocking smile twisted Adrian’s lips as he let out a short, bitter laugh.

The disgust Adrian felt toward Karsten was plain to see.

“Looks like you’ve gotten yourself involved in something interesting…”

Adrian’s voice grew icy.

“Are you really planning to make Breti play your dead sister?”

Glaring at his own reflection in the mirror, as if he couldn’t stand the sight, Adrian suddenly hurled the mirror aside.

“You’re making the same stupid mistake all over again.”

Crash!

The loud sound of shattering glass echoed through the bedroom. Fortunately, the downpour outside drowned out the noise, so no one in the manor heard it.

“It’s your foolishness that keeps waking me up like this.”

Adrian approached the spot where the shards had fallen, moving quietly. Gazing at his reflection in the broken glass, he let out a bitter laugh.

His attention was drawn to the scar above his left eyebrow.

“Whether I got this scar or not, you’re still the same foolish Karsten, then and now.”

He muttered to himself as he moved silently out onto the balcony.

Wearing nothing but a robe, his body was quickly drenched by the pounding rain. Adrian moved lightly, crossing from his balcony to Breti’s room.

He stepped inside, his hair and clothes dripping wet.

Breti was lying on the bed, fast asleep and huddled to the side as if seeking comfort. Seeing her like that softened Adrian’s expression with bittersweet longing.

He quietly approached her.

“Breti.”

The way he spoke her name, as if he’d known her forever, was filled with aching desire.

With his wet hand, Adrian gently stroked Breti’s hair.

“I’ve missed you, Breti.”

His touch was soft yet desperate, brimming with unfulfilled longing.

“This time, I won’t let you slip through my fingers.”

In the darkness, Adrian’s eyes gleamed.

“My, the rain is letting up.”

No sooner had he spoken than the downpour faded, and the dawn sky began to show hints of light. Adrian’s voice was tinged with regret.

“Wait for me, Breti.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before slipping back out onto the balcony.

💙💙💙 💙💙💙

“Ugh…”

Karsten awoke as a weak sliver of sunlight slipped through the curtains. He found himself not in bed, but sprawled on the sofa, unable to move for a while in his dazed state.

He finally came to his senses when a sharp pain stabbed through his abdomen.

“Ah—”

Karsten clutched his stomach, carefully lifting his robe to find that the wound was still bleeding. He scowled at the sight. Not only was he still injured, he also looked as if he’d been dragged through a storm. The shattered mirror nearby gave him an uneasy feeling, too.

‘What is this…’

A strange sense of déjà vu washed over him. But as another wave of pain struck his abdomen, this thought was pushed aside.

Struggling to steady himself, he moved to the side of the bed and pulled the bell cord. It wasn’t long before Thompson appeared.

Upon entering the room and taking in its state, Thompson’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Your Grace, are you all right?”

“What happened? Wh… where’s Laterna?”

“The young lady is safe, sir.”

“She’s safe?”

“Yes, sir. Fortunately, she was in the manor. When you suddenly collapsed, we hurriedly moved her to her room.”

Since Breti hadn’t disappeared, it was a small relief amid all the trouble. Karsten felt himself relax a little, then tried to piece together what had happened after he lost consciousness.

‘Why is the mirror shattered? And why am I in this state?’

But the more he tried to think, the more it felt as if his mind was walled off by thick, impenetrable darkness.

Frowning, Karsten pressed a hand to his aching head.

“I’ll have someone tidy up the bedroom and prepare your bath at once.”

Thompson said, eyeing Karsten’s pained expression with concern.

“Oh, and…”

Just as he was about to leave, Thompson paused in the doorway.

“The young lady was the one who treated your wounds.”

“…Laterna did?”

“Yes, sir. She’s as skilled as any physician I’ve seen.”

“…”

“She cared for you with such dedication…”

With those words, Thompson quietly exited the room.

Left alone, Karsten pressed his hand to his head again.

“This time, I’ll make sure you’re mine.”

Suddenly, a voice that sounded both like his own and yet not, brushed past his ear.

Karsten frowned, straining to drag the fragments of memory from his mind.

‘Who?’

Who was he supposed to claim as his own?

But before he could puzzle it out, a stabbing pain split through his skull, making it impossible to think any further.

‘Something’s wrong.’

That headache felt like a warning, as if his mind were telling him not to remember anything more.

💙💙💙 💙💙💙

“…!”

Breti woke with a start from a deep sleep.

When she turned her head toward the window, she saw a morning so clear it was hard to believe there had been a torrential downpour the night before. She had to squint against the bright sunlight streaming in through the window.

Knock, knock.

There was a knock at the door.

Breti instinctively jumped out of bed and answered,

“C-come in!”

As she stood hurriedly beside the bed, she glanced down and realized the carpet under her feet was soaking wet.

‘Why is it…?’

A pool of water had spread across the carpet where she was standing.

As Breti stood there in confusion, Bagi entered the room.

“Miss, you’re awake?”

Bagi hurried over, glancing from Breti’s face to the floor.

“Oh my, where did all this water come from…?”

“I—I’m not sure either… I’m sorry.”

Breti apologized, bowing her head automatically.

Seeing how apologetic she was, Bagi offered a gentle smile.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll bring something later and clean it all up. But first, miss, I think you ought to go see His Grace right away.”

His Grace.

The moment Bagi used that title, a chill ran down Breti’s spine for reasons she couldn’t explain.

“His Grace has been asking for you since he woke up.”

“I… I see.”

Hearing that he’d asked for her first thing, Breti felt her heart sink with a heavy thud.

Suddenly, Breti recalled what Karsten had said and done when he woke up the day before.

“Breti, I think I’ll be just fine with you taking care of me.”

She hadn’t known him for long, but yesterday he hadn’t seemed like himself at all.

‘He felt like a different person…’

Absentmindedly, Breti touched her own cheek where his hand had been. As soon as she realized what she was doing, she snapped out of it and quickly shook her head.

“Miss?”

Bagi called out, puzzled by Breti’s odd behavior.

“It’s nothing.”

Breti replied, awkwardly stroking her reddened cheeks.

Before she could dwell on it further, a few other maids arrived, quickly helping her change and get ready.

‘Why was the carpet wet…?’

Throughout it all, Breti remained distracted, her mind still on the soaked carpet.

Soon after, freshly dressed, she found herself standing before Karsten’s bedchamber. Just as she arrived, Thompson was leaving and greeted her with a bright smile.

“You’re here, miss. His Grace is feeling much better today.”

“…I’m so glad to hear it.”

“It’s all thanks to your devoted care.”

“Oh, it was nothing.”

“And as soon as he woke up, the first thing he did was ask for you. His Grace is waiting inside.”

With that, Thompson opened the door for her.

Breti drew in a quick breath and stepped into the room.

Contrary to her expectation that he’d still be lying in bed, Karsten was seated neatly on the sofa, sipping tea. Their eyes met in the air between them.

“Come here.”

At his brief command, Breti found herself moving closer, almost as if drawn by an invisible thread.

Sitting beside him, she quietly studied his condition.

Just as Thompson had said, he seemed to have improved a great deal. Breti let out a silent sigh of relief.

Then Karsten’s voice reached her ears.

“So, you were the one who treated my wound yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“If you’d just let me die, you could have been free.”

Despite having worried all morning after hearing he’d asked for her, Breti was oddly relieved to find his voice was as cold and sharp as ever.