Rosie stood up and picked up the elegant hat Isabella had left on the stand. Facing her mother-in-law’s sharply angled, triangular gaze, she turned the corners of her mouth up into a smile.

“Oh, I’ll be taking this as well.”

Clatter!

Rosie walked out without a backward glance. Behind her came a furious shriek and the sharp shattering of teacups.

The sound of porcelain breaking and Isabella raging and thrashing echoed through the room. But Rosie paid it no mind.

She simply moved forward, her expression empty as though she couldn’t feel a single thing.

***

Meanwhile, Callios was receiving a report on the recently discovered components of the spell. They had scoured the entire Islan brothel district to find them.

Rob Beisler presented the evidence, which was wrapped in a handkerchief, with a grave expression.

“We managed to retrieve it just before it was disposed of. It’s one of the prohibited ingredients for forbidden magic. From what I’ve heard, it has hallucinogenic effects.”

“This little flower?”

It was a form of sorcery that was forbidden even among the Romani, and was strictly persecuted by the Empire.

The Empire officially denied the existence of sorcery, claiming that the risk of misuse was too great.

Callios snatched the handkerchief from Rob before he could offer it. He lifted it to his face and pressed his sharp nose into the white blossoms, but could detect no scent whatsoever.

Watching the precious evidence being manhandled to near ruin, Rob Beisler’s face crumpled in dismay.

“It may look insignificant, but it’s apparently very difficult to obtain. It only grows deep within the forest along the border of the Kuhote Kingdom. The area is teeming with vipers, so people can’t just wander in there carelessly.”

The Kuhote Kingdom was the region whose subjugation Callios had been delaying. Separated from the Empire by a vast forest, its inhabitants frequently raided imperial citizens — a situation that greatly irritated the Emperor.

This was why he kept pressuring Callios to launch the expedition sooner.

Callios narrowed his brows slightly and examined the flower more closely. Delicate white petals encircled a cluster of yellow stamens at the center.

“That forest… isn’t that where the Valley of the Moon is located?”

“Yes, sir. Exactly. They say it grows in the Valley of the Moon, so they also call it the moon-bloom.”

“Something like this can cause hallucinations…”

As Callios stared at the pale flower, he couldn’t help but think of Rosie’s pale face. He naturally thought of her calm expression and felt a painful tightening in his chest.

In a low voice, he muttered:

“My wife seems determined to squeeze every last drop out of me. She’s not content with just asking for a divorce.”

“What, sir?”

“She wanders into places like this without a single guard.”

Realizing his superior had drifted deep into his own thoughts, Rob Beisler hurriedly agreed.

“It’s a relief you found her quickly, milord.”

Callios didn’t answer. His tone sank even lower.

“She keeps getting tangled up with other men.”

“……”

“And after everything she’s been through, she still refuses to speak.”

Crack.

The white flower crumbled in Callios’s hand. Green sap seeped from the crushed stem, dripping down as the shredded petals fluttered to the ground.

“How far does she want to push me before she’s satisfied?”

“…That’s… technically destruction of evidence, sir.”

Rob whispered, unable to hold back any longer. But Callios didn’t hear him.

“At any rate, the circumstances are clear enough. It’s time to move.”

“Move? Where are you—?”

Callios grabbed the black cloak hanging nearby and swung it over his shoulder.

“I’ll go ahead. Handle the rest yourselves.”

***

A short time later. In the small banquet hall of the ducal estate.

Callios was facing Isabella, who looked visibly uneasy. A luxurious tea set, a gift from the Emperor, rested on the table between them. He had summoned her, and then remained silent for a long time.

“If you have something to say, speak. You must be busy with your duties.”

What was that tea set?

Isabella kept glancing at it, unable to hide her nerves.

At last, Callios spoke.

“I didn’t call you immediately because I needed confirmation.”

“…What confirmation?”

Isabella lifted her chin stiffly.

Callios, expression unreadable, stepped toward her.

One heavy step.

“For my wife…”

Another step.

“For Rosie—”

A cold shadow fell over Isabella’s face as she swallowed hard.

Callios halted in front of her, his voice slow, almost controlled.

“Did you treat her as… a good family member?”

Isabella stared up at him, her eyes wide with horror. If he was asking this question, it meant that he already knew the answer.

The brazier crackled softly. The tall candles flickered amid the flowers arranged on the table. Their flames trembled, as did the light reflected in Isabella’s eyes.

Watching her carefully, Callios gestured towards the ornately wrapped teapot.

“This was a gift from His Majesty. Naturally, it should also go to my wife.”

His gaze turned icy.

“But I doubt she has even tasted it.”

“W–what…?”

“Because you keep intercepting everything that should reach her.”

Isabella abruptly sprang to her feet, letting out a sharp, strangled cry.

“What nonsense! This is slander!”

“Do I look like someone who would speak at random with nothing in hand?”

The expensive tea—meticulously prepared by the servants—was cooling untouched.

Callios briefly glanced toward the purple curtain embroidered with intricate gold thread. Though the window was shut, the fabric quivered faintly, unnoticed by Isabella.

“As the senior of this household, I had expected at least the bare minimum of decency from you.”

Isabella scoffed as if hearing nonsense.

“I swear on my name, I never once neglected that child.”

“…Is that truly so.”

“All I ever did was guide her properly, as a matriarch should. So what exactly have you heard to accuse me like this? Speak.”

Callios remained silent. He was waiting for her to tell the truth herself.

Sensing this, Isabella let out a shallow sigh. Looking at him almost pitifully, she examined her perfectly polished nails.

“Surely… you aren’t behaving this way because your wife shed a few tears?”

“She has never shed tears.”

His voice dropped like a blade as his fist tightened.

“Not once.”

He had wanted Rosie to tell him herself whether her days had really been that unbearable and whether this house had really been that hellish. But he knew now that no matter what he did, she would never talk about it.

And so, full circle, he had come to this point.

Seeing his determination, Isabella suddenly relaxed her stance, softened her tone and leaned in gently.

“Callios. My precious son. You do realize she hasn’t been in her right mind lately, don’t you? She’s delusional consumed by paranoia. You mustn’t believe every word she says.”

She added gravely.

“The girl is practically raving.”

Callios gave a small laugh.

He laughed?

Isabella flinched.

His cold, flat gaze dropped to the tea set on the table. He tapped the silk-covered surface with one finger, his touches slow and deliberate.

“She would only be out of her mind if there were reasons for it. That’s what I’m considering.”

His tapping stopped.

“And I am learning those reasons. One by one.”

Grinding the words out, Callios finally drew out a chair and sat. Across from him, Isabella quickly seated herself as well, speaking as if to soothe him.

“I don’t know what she might have said, but I have suffered, too. I treated that child with nothing but kindness. And this is how she repays a mother’s love — with malice?”

Callios barely listened. He lifted the cold tea and drank it like it meant nothing.

As always, the tea was bitter.

To him, tea was just something that slid down his throat, whether it was an imperial blend, a rare leaf or a fine brew.

Rosie was the one who cherished such things.

Just as she had cherished the Benedict estate, something that had meant nothing to him until she came along.

Meanwhile, Isabella kept lamenting.

“You know very well the circumstances I’m in. I have been struggling terribly.”

“Rosie has been handling matters fairly and properly.”

Callios set his empty cup down with a sharp click. Leaning forward with both hands braced on the table, he turned to face her.

“The only one whining here is you, Mother.”

A twitch pulled at Isabella’s lips. Only then did she realize.

Callios had no intention of taking her side. He had no intention of pardoning her.

This was not a discussion. It was an evaluation of Isabella, the duchy’s matriarch.

And she had failed.

The moment she realized this, her once gentle eyes turned vicious. If this was the end, she had nothing left to lose.

Leaning forward, she spoke in a soft, calculated voice.

“Duke Benedict. My precious second son.”

Seeing his brow twitch, she smiled slyly.

“Do you know how that poor child suffered after you left? How much she depended on you? You know it better than anyone.”

Callios flinched for the first time. His dark brows twisted harshly.

“What are you trying to imply?”

“You weren’t there for her, Callios. Not once. Not when she needed you the most.”

Watching his eyes waver, Isabella lowered her voice to a whisper.

“That poor child fell ill from longing for her husband. She pined for you so desperately that she lost her composure. Do you know why she’s making such a scene now?”

Her cold verdict struck straight at his furrowed dark eyes.

“It’s all to get your attention.”

“Enough! Don’t you dare insult her sincerity.”

Callios warned quietly, but she showed no intention of stopping. In fact, she pressed even harder.

“She only speaks harshly; she has no intention of divorcing you. You really don’t see it, do you?”