While Rosie was biting her lip, Jenny chattered on with a bright face.

“This bread! I thought it would be really expensive, but it was cheaper than I expected. And the owner said we looked pleasant, so he gave us a few extra. Eheheh… Cheap and delicious, it’s a total win!”

But Rosie’s thoughts wandered.

Callios had grown up in the islan brothel, a brutal place with the cheapest land value in the city. For people without money, there had probably been no choice at all.

The image of the ragged boy who had whispered to her, ashamed of his hunger, returned to her. Her heart throbbed, sharp and aching.

Thinking about the islan brothel made Rosie’s brows draw together. A thought struck her.

“There must’ve been a lot of damage in places like that too, right?”

“Huh? What damage?”

“When the disaster happened. Places like brothels and slums.”

She had spoken to Callios and Rob Beisler about it, but she still felt uneasy. Had they really taken her words seriously?

“I should spread the rumors in advance. Yes. Rumors might be more effective than official warnings.”

Realizing what Rosie meant, Jenny turned pale and tried to stop her.

“No, my lady! You can’t possibly go there! It’s dangerous even with knights escorting you!”

“I’m only going to the entrance. I won’t go deep inside, so it’s fine. And I have him.”

Rosie jerked her chin confidently toward Ide. Jenny shot him a desperate look, urging him to stop her but he only shook his head helplessly.

“I’m afraid I’m no match for the lady’s will.”

“Besides, the ducal knights are so rigid they’ll oppose even accompanying me.”

Despite death looming over her, Rosie felt strangely fearless. It was as if her instinct for fear had been cut away.

Perhaps God had granted her more time so that she could prepare properly for her death.

Rosie tried to guess at the will of the unseen God hiding behind a veil of mist. A prepared death. Time to put everything in order, free from lingering regrets. Time to redefine herself and those around her — to reflect, to settle and to close her eyes properly.

Rosie pulled her hood low, covering her face.

“Whether it works out or not, let’s at least take some of this bread with us and hand it out.”

She intended to follow her heart and do whatever she could.

***

Callios believed that if he corrected what had gone wrong, everything would return to how it should be.

Callios believed that.

Even his wife, who wanted a divorce, would find peace once the duchy had been restored and she had returned to her rightful place.

He was briefly bothered by how much she had changed, to the point where he had momentarily mistaken her for a witch.

Summoned again to the imperial palace, Callios sat with a bored expression as he listened to the emperor’s small talk.

The emperor cheerfully shifted his chess pieces and said.

“Ah, before you go home, make sure to take my gift with you.”

When Callios reacted indifferently, the emperor leaned his chin on the chessboard, looking as though he expected that response.

“It’s not for you, it’s for your lovely wife.”

Even at the emperor’s gift, Callios offered only a short word of gratitude. His face showed no sign of being moved.

But the emperor, long used to his apathy, continued casually.

“It’s the finest tea from the Kingdom of Yones. I’m sure the duchess will like it.”

How amusing, the emperor had banned official trade, yet possessed their goods so brazenly.

Callios folded his arms and replied with a mocking tone.

“If Your Majesty intends to continue like this, it would be better to reopen the trade.”

“We can’t be the ones to reach out first. Unless they come crawling to us, that is.”

Such was imperial pride. Callios, who valued only practicality, found such pomp and pride boring.

However, thinking of his wife, who liked tea, he accepted the gift with proper courtesy.

The emperor watched him, his expression unreadable, before smiling slyly.

“Since we’re on the subject, is the duchess doing well these days? I’ve heard a few things.”

Callios stiffened, and his expression sharpened.

“Whatever you’ve heard is nonsense. Pay it no mind.”

“I heard you argued at the theatre, but then at the banquet they said you took good care of her. So which is it?”

The emperor lounged back on the sofa, grinning like he’d caught something interesting. He had been this sly since his days as the second prince.

Callios’s displeasure was blatant.

“Your Majesty seems unusually interested in my wife.”

“I only speak out of concern for the peace of your precious household.”

“That will be enough. Let’s move on to the main matter.”

His silent gaze said, Isn’t there something else you want to discuss?

Even though he was rude in front of the Emperor, nobody reprimanded him. After all, if it was Duke Callios Benedict, it was simply accepted.

The emperor finally allowed his smile to fade and asked in a serious tone.

“It’s about the expedition. According to our agreement, there should be one left. After this one, it’s over for a while. Why are you hesitating?”

Callios answered smoothly, as if he had prepared the reply in advance.

“I wish to delay it and make more thorough preparations. It is not an urgent expedition, after all.”

“I would prefer that as well… but the war hawks oppose it vehemently.”

“Marquis Midas again?”

When he asked sharply, the Emperor pressed his lips together in annoyance.

Callios responded with a cold, cynical remark.

“He never acts himself, yet he always speaks the loudest.”

“He is the heir of a great house that owns the empire’s largest hospital. Not as significant as the Benedict Duchy, of course, which holds the largest bank.”

No matter how they coaxed, persuaded, or occasionally threatened him, the man’s stubbornness remained unchanged.

And today as well, Callios made no move to explain why he refused the expedition.

The emperor sighed.

“I suppose I must give up for today. But there is always tomorrow.”

Callios responded immediately, without a flicker of hesitation.

“Tomorrow will be another day of wasted effort.”

The emperor sighed and waved a hand dismissing him.

Callios rose without hesitation and bowed, but then stopped abruptly, as if struck by lightning. Rosie’s voice suddenly echoed through his mind.

“The ground will split and houses will collapse.”
“If you ever once thought of me as your partner. This one time, just trust me.”

His hesitation didn’t last long.

With a hardened expression, Callios spoke to the emperor.

“Your Majesty, it would be wise to address the issue of the unstable ground in advance. Hasn’t the construction of the East Street canal been delayed?”

“…And what exactly are you suggesting? That an earthquake is coming?”

If that happened, the half-completed waterways could flood disastrously. The emperor’s green eyes immediately turned grave.

“I’ve heard nothing from the palace astrologers. Where did you get this information?”

Callios was silent for a moment, then answered.

“I cannot reveal the source, but it is reliable.”

“Hm… I see. Someone as skilled as Elsavani, perhaps.”

His wife’s voice — claiming to have heard it from Elsavani “by coincidence” — came to mind, but Callios said nothing.

There was no need to draw unnecessary attention from the emperor.

“Well, if you say so, I suppose I should trust you. Understood. I’ll give orders to investigate.”

Like Rob Beisler, the emperor did not fully believe him. However, Callios’s conviction appeared sufficient to sway him slightly.

After the emperor issued instructions immediately, Callios left the palace.

He rushed straight back to the duchy, where he froze.

“She’s gone out again?”

Callios’s face chilled instantly upon hearing Rosie’s whereabouts. The chief steward, overwhelmed, looked like he’d aged ten years.

“Yes, Your Grace. She left not long ago, so it will take some time before she returns.”

“…I told her to do as she pleased, and she’s taking it quite literally.”

His cold murmur lingered in the air as Callios swiftly removed his constricting breastplate and cumbersome cloak. He discarded them with practiced ease, managing without the steward’s assistance.

Callios despised anyone but his wife touching him.

Out of habit, he removed his gauntlet, then paused as he reached for his black leather gloves.

He remembered Rosie picking them up from the floor of the carriage and brushing the dust from them so carefully before handing them back to him. Her soft brown eyes had been fixed on his as she did so.

Despite himself, his voice softened as he addressed the chief steward.

“How is my wife doing?”

“She has been performing remarkably well, Your Grace. Better than expected. She has already taken full control of the elder madam’s financial lines.”

Realizing that Callios was asking about internal affairs, the butler quickly offered him the prepared documents containing detailed records of Rosie’s progress.

Still wearing his leather armor, Callios slumped into a chair. He swept his black hair back with one hand, his eyes moving swiftly down the page.

His well-shaped lips parted coldly.

“Chief Steward. I never instructed you to assist her this aggressively. The pace is too fast.”

The butler flinched and bowed deeply.

He had no idea about the arrangement between the duke and his wife. Which made Callios’s faint discomfort all the more baffling.

The chief steward cautiously asked, rolling his eyes upward.

“Have I erred by helping the lady, then?”

“No. Continue. Just… moderate the pace.”

“Moderate… the pace? Understood.”

He had no idea what the duke truly meant, but he obeyed.

“Tell her there is no need to rush, she may take her time.”

“I have said as much, Your Grace, but… the lady is in quite a hurry…”

Indeed, that was strange.

“Because I don’t have time.”

The image of her pale, anxious face flashed through his memory, looking noticeably more ashen than usual.

Callios’s finely shaped brows drew together in a deep frown.

‘What did she mean… that she didn’t have time?’