Shame flared up Rosie’s cheeks, burning hot.

“Watch your words.”

“Right. You’ve always hated crude talk like this.”

What was he angry about now?

Callios’s towering figure loomed over her, his sharp, strong nose brushing lightly against hers. His warm breath skimmed her lips, making them tingle.

“But what does it matter? You’re already my wife.”

Rosie was almost pressed against his imposing, solid body. The cool scent of his body surrounded her, suffocating her with its closeness.

“Stop…!”

She shoved him with all her might. Under normal circumstances, it would take an enormous amount of force to move him, but this time he took a step back easily.

The flat look in his eyes made it clear that he had never intended to go any further.

Rosie’s face flushed as she caught her breath. He never changed; he always did whatever he pleased.

Callios watched her reddening cheeks and let out a short, amused breath; his temper seemed to have eased.

“From now on, the internal affairs of the duchy are entirely yours again. I’ll stay out of it for a while.”

For once, something welcome.

“I look forward to seeing how you fix this disastrous mess of a budget.”

His sharp gaze held a quiet certainty: he was convinced that she would fail.

Rosie pressed the back of her hand to her heated eyes. When she lowered her hand again, her expression was colder than ever.

“So do I.”

At her calm reply, Callios’s brow tightened slightly.

“When all of this is over, I wonder how your face will twist.”

“…….”

“And if you dare insult me like that one more time, I’ll go straight to the Holy See to file for divorce, conditions be damned.”

“Seems you’ve grown fond of threats.”

Callios’s gaze briefly dropped to her bandaged hand. Then he turned his back sharply, muttering.

“Take care of that hand.”

…As if it mattered to him.

The moment he stepped out, Rosie pushed the door shut. Swinging her still-injured hand made it sting.

“Haa…”

She brushed her bandaged fingers over her lips and let out a quiet sigh. The spot Callios had touched throbbed faintly.

“It swells quickly here. Even a little sucking is enough.”

Being tangled with him still left her shaken. Her heartbeat thudded violently in her chest.

‘It’s nothing.’

If she could convince herself that it meant nothing, the pain would eventually stop. It was practically self-hypnosis, but it was the only way she’d managed to endure in her previous life.

‘It was… nothing.’

It was only when her heartbeat finally settled that the heavy sound of his footsteps disappeared completely.

Then Jenny, who had been pacing outside nervously, slipped into the room.

“I heard a loud noise, are you all right? The person who came out said nothing, so I thought I’d go mad from worry.”

Ide, the servant, would never speak of what had happened in the room. He had sworn it, and his silence seemed impenetrable.

Rosie turned her attention back to Jenny’s voice.

“Oh, Madam! My distant relative finally sent word. And apparently the business supplying medical goods to the hospital has been doing quite well lately. They’re still struggling with debt, though, so they’re short on funds.”

“Is that so?”

It was exactly as Rosie had remembered.

She had no intention of letting Callios’s ‘three-month’ deal drag on for that long. Her plan was swift and decisive.

‘Who knows if I’ll even survive until then.’

There was no guarantee that her life would unfold exactly as it had before. She needed to prepare for the worst.

Thinking about her inevitable death left her feeling calm. The clearer she pictured the end, the less afraid she was.

‘Right. At this point, what is there left to hesitate over?’

Rosie let out a faint, light laugh.

Callios would regret staking the Moavis estate in a moment of anger.

‘He really thought I couldn’t do it.’

With only a few months of life left, she was determined to take what was hers and do whatever she wanted with it.

She would fight, struggle and claw her way forward until her last breath.

She told Jenny with a calm expression.

“Tell him to expand his medical supply business. Make it bigger.”

“What? But he keeps saying he’s stretched too thin, he’s short on money, and he still has debt…”

“More people will be needing medical supplies soon. Tell him to scale up.”

Not for good reasons, of course.

“Many people will be visiting the hospitals. So he should grow his supply business before they come.”

“…Madame, did you perhaps learn fortune-telling without telling me? How do you know that?”

Jenny looked confused, and Rosie, startled inside, forced a faint smile.

“Nothing like that. I just observed some natural patterns. I read a few books when I was bored. The stars and the winds lately don’t feel ordinary.”

She improvised the explanation, but Jenny’s face only grew more curious.

“Madame, when did you start doing things like that…? For a moment I thought you were an astrologist.”

Rosie tried not to show her panic and remained composed.

Jenny squinted at her for a long time, then suddenly broke into a bright smile.

“Honestly! Madame, you’re getting more talented by the day. I really need to keep up. You sounded just like Lady Elsavani earlier!”

Thankfully, Jenny immediately thought of a renowned astrologer rather than becoming suspicious.

Relieved beyond measure, Rosie returned her smile.

Thankfully, Jenny was simple-minded.

Rosie sifted through her knowledge of the future and her brow suddenly tightened.

‘Come to think of it… the Beisler family suffers great losses in this timeline, don’t they?’

It was the family of Rob Beisler, Callios’s loyal adjutant. She recalled how he had suddenly asked her to dance that day, startling her. However, after they had exchanged a few words, she realised that he was a cheerful and decent man.

What should she do about this? Should she send word through Jenny?

After hesitating for a moment, Rosie changed her mind. Letters might not convey the urgency.

“I should meet him early tomorrow.”

“Meet who?”

Jenny asked.

“It’s best to send someone discreet.”

“Huh? If you need someone discreet, isn’t that me?”

Rosie ignored Jenny’s chatter and looked down at her palm, which was still throbbing slightly.

What expression had Callios had on his face when she slapped him?

‘He looked… a little surprised? No. There’s no way.’

His cheek hadn’t even swollen. In fact, he seemed almost unaffected; he was composed. His gaze wavered for a moment, but that was nothing. To him, all of this was insignificant. Nothing.

***

The next day, Rob Beisler returned from an audience with the Emperor alongside Callios.

Recently, the Emperor had been summoning Callios much more frequently.

“Why are you refusing the scheduled expedition? I ask you as a friend, speak plainly.”

However, no matter how many times he was questioned, Callios refused to answer.

Standing beside him, Rob Beisler was terrified that the Emperor might take offence; he was sweating through his uniform. The Duke of Benedict wielded such overwhelming influence that even the Emperor seemed to defer to him.

After all, it was Callios who had helped the former Second Prince to ascend the throne in the first place.

Once they finally left the Imperial Palace, Rob exhaled heavily, feeling drained.

“Even if Your Grace is close to His Majesty, he is no longer the Second Prince—he is the Emperor now.”

“…….”

“And forgive me, but Your Grace looked ready to cut someone down today.”

“…….”

“It was almost like… like someone slapped you across the face.”

He had meant it as a joke; he was worried about his lord’s foul mood. However, the reaction he received was alarmingly cold.

Callios, who had remained silent until now, furrowed his dark brows sharply.

“Shut your mouth, Rob Beisler.”

Rob let out a startled whistle and glanced around.

Lowering his voice, he joked nervously.

“Have you forgotten we’re still inside the Empire? You’re the one who never used crude language within these walls.”

Callios, who might curse on the battlefield, always reverted to a faultless nobleman the moment he crossed into Imperial territory.

“I’ve heard the Duke’s estate has been loud lately. Has something happened?”

“It’s full of loose-tongued fools. How could things run properly?”

“…So something did happen.”

At Rob’s careful probing, Callios twisted his lips into a cold smile.

Scratching the back of his head, Rob poked again, almost mischievous.

“Well, that’s why I told you to stop going on campaigns. If you keep wandering off, what will you do when the Duchess decides to look elsewhere?”

Callios stared at him silently, and Rob immediately shrank back.

“O-of course, I know it’s because of your promise to His Majesty, but still…”

But Callios’s sour mood clearly stemmed from something else.

In a low, ominous voice, he muttered.

“That thing you always say—because of that—”

“Huh? What did I say?”

Callios ground his teeth and ran a hand down his face while riding his horse. Rob Beisler instantly read the tension and clicked his tongue.

“Oh—do you mean when I joked that the Duchess might meet another man while you’re gone? That was obviously just a joke. Surely you didn’t go stirring things up with her over—”

Rob stopped mid-sentence. He shot a strange look at his superior. Even Callios, brutal as he could be, wouldn’t actually do that, would he?

Rob had always made jokes like that for a simple reason: whenever Rosie was mentioned, his usually cold and unshakeable lord looked just the slightest bit uncomfortable. Rob trusted Rosie completely, so teasing Callios about it was harmless.

But now…

“…Surely not. Right?”

Suspicion crept into Rob’s voice.

And the reply he received was even more alarming.

“How long does it take for the Holy See to process a divorce petition?”

In the backlight, Callios’s expression was starkly serious.

He meant it.

Rob Beisler felt a cold bead of sweat trickle down his spine.