Valoid thought it would have been better if she had simply cursed at him instead.

“Please don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“Is it too vulgar for His Highness the Grand Duke to hear? Then forgive me. I’m just a commoner now, with no family or status — an unmarried woman sleeping with a man as his mistress. I’m simply speaking in a way that suits my position.”

The one who turned Serine into that was him.

Back then, as long as he could keep her by his side, he never cared what methods he used.

Now, however, every time he looked at the scars covering her body, his eyes burned with pain.

Each scar was a horrifying reminder of his regret, festering amid the ruins of their shattered relationship.

“I told you to stop.”

“Ah, another order?”

Serine let out a bitter laugh.

“At Penrose, I was merely the deaf daughter. But beside you, I’ve become some brainless idiot. Why don’t you go ahead and decide how many times I’m allowed to eat and use the bathroom too?”

He rubbed at his face as though trying to hide the twitch in his cheek.

As though it were simply an unconscious reaction brought on by the cold.

Because it was cold.

Too unbearably cold.

“It’ll all be over in three months anyway, Serine. I just want us to part on decent terms. If that’s what you want too, then be smart about this.”

The only comfort he had was that Serine could not hear how pathetically his voice was trembling.

“Spend the remaining time taking advantage of me as much as you can. Wouldn’t it be better to leave with at least something in your hands?”

“What I need is freedom and peace. Saying it out loud makes me sound like one of those cheap propaganda pamphlets, doesn’t it?”

At the end of her sentence, Serine muttered bitterly to herself.

The light vanished from her glass-like eyes.

“Anyway, if I just endure three months, those things will naturally become mine. So until then, let’s avoid seeing each other as much as possible.”

As she pushed him away, he was reminded of a memory when he saw her face.

He remembered the day he had first asked Serine to dance.

He remembered the way she had looked up at him, tense with nervousness.

Her eyes sparkled brighter than the ballroom’s chandeliers; she couldn’t hide her excitement and anticipation.

I was the only one who ever asked you to dance.

But you were my only one, too.

Why hadn’t I realized that back then?

***

‘Take advantage of him. Think about what she could gain from him. What ridiculous nonsense.’

Valoid himself was born from someone else’s loss and suffering.

He was not the kind of man to act purely for the sake of others.

Inside the rattling carriage, Serine pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind.

Since killing off her emotions, everything had become easier.

Like a lake frozen too thickly to be stirred by any storm, she was no longer affected by anything.

However, after spending the entire day staring blankly at the walls, Rivi finally began to grow frightened.

“My lady, perhaps you should at least get some fresh air? It might help improve your mood.”

Serene did not think so.

Nevertheless, there was somewhere she needed to go.

Just her luck.

The broad, immaculate shopping district was eerily deserted.

Come to think of it, wasn’t today the Empire’s Founding Day?

Very few stores were open.

‘They say pawnshops never close.’

Serine sincerely hoped that was true.

The box on her lap contained the diamond jewelry set Valoid had given her.

She was planning to pawn it all today.

Diamonds symbolize promises meant to last forever, but they did not represent her relationship with Valoid at all.

“Where would you like to go, Serine?”

…However, the man who had given her those jewels sitting beside her in the carriage had been entirely unexpected.

“Just tell me the destination, and I’ll prepare everything.”

Valoid was not alone; Sir Hart and several other knights were accompanying them as escorts.

She had never truly felt safe inside the Grand Duke’s estate, and naturally her life became even less her own the moment she stepped outside.

Serine found the entire situation exhausting.

For a moment, she even considered jumping out of the carriage at the first opportunity.

“Stop here.”

“A pawnshop.”

Valoid immediately noticed.

Part of Serine had hoped he might become angry.

“You can dispose of anything I gave you however you like. If you dislike it, I’ll buy you new jewels instead.”

Without answering, Serine turned her face away.

She had no desire for the jewelry or his generosity.

Nevertheless, there was something about the pawnshop that felt strangely ambiguous.

The door was locked, yet there was no ‘Closed’ sign outside, and the curtains behind the windows were half-open.

Faint sounds of employees moving about came from somewhere near the back entrance.

In short, it was impossible to tell whether the shop was open or closed.

“Hart.”

“Yes, Your Highness. I’ll go check.”

Sir Hart immediately sent several subordinates toward the back entrance.

“Please wait inside the carriage, my lady.”

“Get inside, Seri.”

In the end, Valoid forced her back into the carriage.

“Your hands are cold.”

Her already thin arms looked as though they might break if the wind blew even slightly harder.

“Have you been eating properly?”

He knew better than anyone that she had not.

Serine barely ate, almost like someone standing at death’s door.

“If the food doesn’t suit your taste, I’ll change the chef. Since we’re already out, we can eat outside like last time. Is there anything you want?”

Holding her bony fingers in his hand, he pressed her as though demanding an answer.

At his endless stream of questions, Serine let out a sigh.

“Valoid.”

It meant she wanted him to stop bothering her.

Pressing his lips tightly together, he was suddenly overcome by a wretched feeling.

‘Were you always feeling this way beside me?’

Serine turned her back on him and gazed out of the window.

Valoid wondered what could have caught her attention on a street where hardly anyone passed by.

Then he saw him — a boy who looked no older than twelve or thirteen.

With his flat cap pulled low, dirty-blonde hair, and stained trousers, he looked like a commoner running errands around the shopping district.

The young boy’s face flushed deep red as he stared at Serine, unable to look away.

Valoid frowned.

For a moment, he considered shouting at the boy and driving him off.

But then Serine quietly murmured,

“He’s carrying a baby.”

“Probably his younger sibling. I suppose there’s no adult at home to look after the child.”

For once, Serine had spoken to him first.

The displeasure he had felt vanished in an instant.

“Do you like children?”

“It’s just… the weather is cold.”

The boy himself was young, but the baby strapped to his back looked barely more than an infant.

Perhaps because of the biting wind, the child had been wrapped so thoroughly that no skin showed, with even a pink hat pulled snugly over the head.

“P-Please buy some flowers.”

Only then did Valoid notice the large basket of flowers in the boy’s hands.

“Oh, how cold it is. If only someone would buy these flowers, I could go home!”

Still blushing, the boy glanced at Serine and spoke loudly to himself.

“Is there no generous and beautiful noble lady who would buy some flowers from me?”

He was quite an amusing little thing.

Come to think of it, had Valoid ever given Serine flowers?

“You there. Come here.”

“Yes, sir!”

The boy trotted over beneath the carriage window.

“How much?”

When Valoid asked without specifying the subject, the boy narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“I’m sorry, but my body isn’t for sale!”

He had been struck cleanly.

‘This little brat.’

But then Serine laughed.

It was only a faint, quickly fading laugh, yet it tickled his curled fingers like the first trace of warmth found inside a frozen snowstorm.

“I’m not interested in an ugly little thing like you either. I only asked because the flowers are pretty. If you don’t want to sell them, then forget it.”

“Ah, I’m sorry! These red flowers are fifteen coppers per bundle, and the ones mixed with blue are twenty-two coppers.”

“What if I buy the whole basket?”

“The whole basket?!”

The boy’s face flushed so red with excitement it looked ready to burst.

Perhaps thrilled by the unexpected windfall, he breathed roughly, his breaths coming in sharp little gasps.

“An excellent choice, sir! I picked only the freshest ones from the flower market this morning. They’ll surely suit the beautiful lady!”

The boy circled the carriage and approached the window where Serine was sitting.

He pushed the flower basket upwards with all his might, but the carriage was too high for him to reach properly.

The basket caught awkwardly on the window frame, tilting dangerously and looking as though it might spill its contents at any moment.

Instinctively, Serine reached out to steady it.

At that exact moment, the boy grabbed her wrist, as though he had been waiting for the opportunity all along.

“…I’m sorry, my lady.”

Suddenly, an object shot out from beneath his shabby sleeve, aiming straight for her.

***

“You seem to be in a good mood, Suzanna.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Seated at the dinner table, Suzanna smiled.

“I finally got rid of a problem that had been bothering me for a long time.”

Outside, autumn rain fell in a steady drizzle.

The gray bricks, soaked through with water, had taken on a bluish tint like Serine’s eyes.

Once buried beneath that ground, even Serine would have no complaints.

“Is that so? That’s good.”

Roxiana’s expression remained empty and distant.

Her husband had not yet returned, leaving her alone by the window, gazing out into the darkness.

It was dark and bitterly cold outside, making the warmth of the fireplace feel all the more intense.

Perhaps Serine was like that, too.

A stain that existed only to make the rest of the family appear brighter and more perfect.

But no matter what, a stain could not be allowed to remain in the house forever.