It was a foolish fixation on love.

But for Rose—who had lost all her memories and had no choice but to rely on him—it was a matter of great importance.

Without even knowing exactly what she longed for, she continued to yearn for the unknown.

“Please deliver this note to His Grace.”

After replying that she understood, Louisa quietly closed the door and left.

Rose remained standing by the window, staring out into the deepening darkness. Her hand, resting against the frame, tightened unconsciously.

Amezella was said to be staying for three more days.

Though she would likely not have to face her directly, it was impossible to completely ignore her presence.

Rose could not deny the truth that she was nothing more than an uninvited guest, someone who had intruded upon this beautiful ducal estate.

“…Haa.”

A quiet sigh escaped her lips.

She did not know what kind of misfortune her small choices might bring.

And yet, she felt she had to do something.

Even if it meant reaching for something she had no right to desire.

***

At that very moment, Raphael was shut away in his study, dealing with the urgent matters that demanded his immediate attention.

Contrary to the many rumors circulating about him, the duke was, in truth, a remarkably calculating strategist.

Raphael lived behind a mask.

Maintaining a careful distance from the imperial family, he had relentlessly pushed forward to secure a position where no one could threaten him.

And yet, no one truly knew what he had been striving for—what lay at the heart of that carefully constructed life.

Watching him, Felix stood silently in the corner of the study, like a shadow, and let out a quiet sigh.

His gaze had fallen upon a small vial on the desk—valerian, a herb known for its calming effects.

The unexplained ringing in Raphael’s ears was slowly eating away at his hearing.

It was a hereditary condition that occasionally appeared among the men of the Frederick ducal line and Felix was the only one who knew that it had begun to manifest in Raphael.

The former duke—Raphael’s father—had died of tuberculosis, so it remained uncertain whether he had suffered from the same condition.

Perhaps he should consider it a blessing that the symptoms appeared only in his right ear.

More importantly, as they worsened, they were beginning to interfere significantly with his daily life.

Felix, who had been watching him with concern, strode quickly to the door at the sound of a knock and opened it.

He had intended to relay the order that no one was to disturb him at this time—but upon seeing the visitor standing there, Felix’s brows arched slightly.

“Miss Hamilton asked me to deliver this to Master.”

Louisa carefully revealed the note she held.

After accepting it, Felix hesitated for a moment—then, as if having made up his mind, unfolded it.

[I believe… that what you said to me wasn’t entirely a lie.]

The message was simple.

Yet its meaning was sharp, perceptive enough to be understood at once.

Louisa lowered her head. It seemed she had noticed the faint displeasure that flickered across Felix’s eyes as he read it.

“Understood.”

The moment his reply fell, the study door closed.

Louisa exhaled quietly, relieved to have fulfilled her duty, brushing off her apron before turning toward the servants’ quarters.

***

Raphael needed rest—immediately.

Felix had no desire to indulge the dangerous longing revealed by the woman confined to the bedroom—and yet, he knew this was the only way to stop Raphael as he was now.

It was a choice he had no choice but to make.

As Raphael sifted through documents related to his ongoing business, a note written in a familiar hand appeared before him.

He lifted his head.

Felix bowed lightly, as if asking forgiveness for the intrusion.

For a fleeting moment, something stirred in Raphael’s darkened gaze.

It was a familiar handwriting.

Who had it been, that once intercepted the carrier pigeons that dared cross the estate walls in the dead of night without fear?

A quiet scoff escaped Raphael.

Feigning seriousness, Felix spoke,

“There is no telling when her memory will return.”

“……”

“And if Crown Prince Leoncavallo were to notice Your Grace’s condition…”

Raphael raised one hand, cutting him off.

“My apologies.”

“That won’t happen. But even if it did… it wouldn’t matter.”

A low laugh slipped from Raphael as he crushed the note in one hand.

Felix’s gaze, asking what he meant, followed him heavily as Raphael rose from his chair.

“Because Joshua Leoncavallo will never sit on the throne.”

At the cold smile curling at the corner of his lips, Felix drew a short breath and lowered his eyes.

Raphael rounded the desk and headed for the study door.

“You’re dismissed.”

As soon as the door shut behind him, Felix let out the breath he had been holding.

For the first time, Raphael—who had ignored every rumor fanning the flames of a power struggle between himself and the crown prince—had finally spoken of it.

Felix felt the urge to chase after him and demand an explanation, but the look Raphael had worn just before leaving was enough to crush that impulse at once.

And yet, how could a loyal aide remain completely uninvolved in his lord’s private affairs?

He still could not be certain whether that cunning little stray cat—who had once acted as the crown prince’s spy—had truly lost her memory at all.

***

Even long after Louisa had left, the door remained closed.

Rose stared at it for a while, then limped back to the bed and sat down on the edge.

Had the note been delivered properly?

Perhaps he would not come to her room for the next three days, if only to avoid catching Amezella’s attention.

How close was he to his mother?

One thought led to another, dragging endlessly behind it.

The life of a mistress favored by a duke was, in the end, nothing but waiting.

If he did not come to her, then a mistress was no more than a useless existence—someone who might as well not be there at all.

Without question, this was not the life she wanted.

Perhaps the Rose from before she lost her memory had felt the same way.

Perhaps she had simply surrendered her desire for freedom, walled in by love.

Lost in thought, her arms wrapped around her knees, Rose suddenly lifted her head toward the door.

She had sensed someone’s presence.

The doorknob turned within her line of sight—without so much as a knock.

The movement was slight—slow, almost like the winding of a clock.

‘Am I seeing things?’

In the darkness of the room, the only light came from the faint amber glow of the fireplace and the flickering candle on the bedside table.

The curtains were drawn shut, blocking even the moonlight. It shattered faintly against the glass, unable to reach inside.

And that was all.

The door never opened.

And that night, the duke did not come to Rose’s bedroom.

***

“Did you hear? They say Lady Ambershire and the duke are discussing a marriage alliance.”

“Really?”

“I saw an article about it in White Wolf. They say the entire political sphere is in an uproar because of it.”

“Oh my… what if this leads to an actual civil war?”

Rose listened quietly to the maids’ conversation drifting up from below the window.

Their voices gradually faded as they hurried off, carrying baskets of laundry.

Even whispers carried far in silence.

Walls had ears—for a reason.

Through such overheard fragments, Rose had come to learn of the small and large happenings within the estate.

Including—that a lowly maid, who had caught the duke’s attention and willingly served him at night, had become pregnant with his child… and, fearing it would be taken from her, fled under cover of darkness—only to lose her memory in a horrific accident.

Which meant—someone was lying.

Someone—

“Once my ankle heals, please let me return to work.”

It was the first time they had dined together in a while. The day after Amezella left the estate, having stayed for three days.

Raphael regarded Rose quietly as she spoke so suddenly.

“I don’t want to stay locked in my room all the time. It’s… suffocating.”

Sensing his gaze lingering heavily on her face, Rose lowered her head.

“Please.”

Her tightly pressed lips and deliberately averted eyes spoke of a decision made after long deliberation.

But it was a request he could not grant.

“Once I’ve taken you as my mistress, I can’t undo it.”

“If it’s you, Your Grace… you can.”

“No. I can’t.”

“……”

“No matter how stubborn you are, it’s pointless. Give it up, Rose.”

At his cold response, Rose drew in a sharp breath.

The dishes laid out before her no longer stirred any appetite.

“Then… at least let me do something.”

Raphael, who had been idly swirling his wine glass, paused and looked at her.

Perhaps losing her memory had changed even her nature—she trembled constantly, like a lost kitten.

“You have a room here where you can rest. Once your ankle heals, you can take walks as you please. You may read anything from the study, and you can have whatever you need. So what exactly is the problem?”

“It feels like I’m being kept.”

“……”

“All of it has limits. There’s nothing I truly want.”

“Rose.”

The moment he set down his wine glass, a crease formed neatly between his brows.

Before he could speak further, Rose opened her mouth first.

“When you get married… what happens to me?”

At the faint flicker of displeasure in his brow, she continued in an even tone.

“I can’t remain in the same space as your duchess. You’ll send me somewhere else, won’t you? A villa in the outskirts… or a townhouse in the capital.”

Her voice remained steady.

“And there, too… I’ll just be someone who waits for you to come.”

Just as Louisa had suggested, Rose had sent the note to test him—and waited.

But he hadn’t come.

Not once, in those three days.

She could not understand him at all—his contradictory nature, the way he stirred her already tangled heart with empty, polished words.

Until now, she had remained passive, overwhelmed by the shock and emptiness of losing her memory.

But she could not continue entrusting her life to someone else forever.

“Do you truly love me?”

Raphael watched her lips in silence as she spoke, her words flowing without pause—as if she had rehearsed them countless times.

As though his answer had never mattered from the start, Rose continued, her voice firm with resolve.

“If that’s true… then don’t leave me alone.”