“All you ever do is threaten and use violence, isn’t that right? No wonder your wife—”

Thud!

Callios slammed the sheathed sword into the brick wall right beside the marquis’s face. The bricks shattered, scattering fragments at their feet. Callios kicked away the broken pieces and spoke in a chilling voice.

“Next time, I’ll rip out that sly tongue of yours and toss it to the street dogs.”

“……”

“Go on. Say another word.”

His expression was deadly serious. Beads of cold sweat slid down Marquis Midas’s neat forehead.

“Well, well. That temper of yours… honestly.”

Brushing brick dust from his clothes, the marquis spoke as if the incident were trivial.

“It just irritated me, watching it.”

“…What?”

“The lady can’t say a thing to you, so someone has to.”

Callios stepped back, a corner of his mouth lifting. Rosie couldn’t say anything to him? He hadn’t won a single argument against her lately.

“She can speak just fine.”

“But she wouldn’t say what actually matters, would she?”

Callios’s brow twitched ever so slightly.

The Marquis’s calm remark cut him more deeply than any accusation ever could.

Marquis Midas glanced at his restless guard, standing anxiously in the distance. Having been told not to intervene, he could only stand there uselessly.

Especially in front of Callios — his guard wouldn’t last a single exchange.

Feigning friendliness, the Marquis patted Callios on the shoulder.

“In any case, if I happen to run into the lady, I’ll treat her well. At least her mind should be at ease.”

“Stop acting arrogant. And keep your interest away from her.”

Callios slapped his hand away with a harsh warning.

Ignoring most of it, the marquis walked a few steps, then suddenly turned back with an “Ah.”

“Whatever else, I’ll admit you have good taste, Duke.”

At the sudden praise, Callios narrowed his eyes at him, wary of whatever scheme might be hiding behind it.

“Lady Moavis, I mean.”

People believed that Callios had refused to let her go out of a sense of duty and honor.

But Marquis Midas knew the truth.

Reading between the lines was his specialty: observing information, grasping it, and seeing what lay underneath.

“I never understood why you marked her as your fiancée so early and kept her hidden like a jar of honey.”

“……”

“But now I do.”

The marquis let his easy smile fade and asked seriously.

“What does it feel like to be loved by someone that gentle?”

After a long silence, Callios gave a short, humorless laugh. Turning away, his hand sliding off the sword hilt, he answered in a low voice.

“Wake up. You’ll never know, not until the day you die.”

***

Rosie took a deep breath of the crisp lakeside air and realized how suddenly the date had arrived.

The villa came into view a ,striking red stone building against the deep blue water. It resembled the hospital where Viscount Elaine worked so much that Rosie stopped for a moment to take it in.

‘Right. I didn’t bring my prescription medicine.’

It didn’t make much difference, but she had coughed up blood fewer times — albeit by only a small amount.

Rosie regretted not bringing it with her as she followed the villa caretaker through the villa grounds. She had been about to take a short walk to familiarize herself with the surroundings when she suddenly stopped in her tracks.

Wearing a long fur cloak over a pale grey dress, she stared towards the outdoor table set near the water’s edge below the villa.

A strikingly handsome man rose smoothly to greet her.

Rosie’s brows drew together.

“…I had a feeling it would be like this.”

She spoke as if scolding him while Callios approached in relaxed clothes.

“Are you sure you didn’t misunderstand what it meant to wait?”

Callios furrowed his brow as if he didn’t understand what she meant.

“I’m holding myself back even while that fox flutters around at your side.”

“……”

“If that isn’t waiting, then what is?”

Rosie clenched her teeth, staring out at the lake, beautiful as it rippled under the wind. She gripped her white hat tightly so it wouldn’t blow away, then let out a long sigh.

“I wanted to rest alone. In peace.”

She had hoped—just a little—that Callios had lent her the villa out of guilt so she could be by herself.

And yet he was really here, insisting on spending it together.

Perhaps feeling a flicker of guilt, he looked toward the lake and spoke defensively.

“If I hadn’t seen you with Marquis Midas that day, I wouldn’t have come.”

“……”

“I wanted to let you rest comfortably. Alone.”

Why should she spend a former wedding anniversary with her ex-husband? People would laugh.

It was no wonder that Princess Isildoa had asked, “Are you really divorced?”

Deciding to be a little more shameless, Callios stated his intention without hesitation.

“You should’ve at least told me beforehand.”

“If you knew I was here, you wouldn’t come.”

“Of course I wouldn’t. Anyway, if you won’t leave, then I will. Goodbye.”

Rosie turned away at once, leaving the flustered caretaker behind.

However, she had not taken more than a few steps before the familiar scent of apple pie stopped her in her tracks.

Apple pie.

Her favorite.

She recognized it instantly when the scent reached her. Only an exceptional baker could create something that fragrant.

Seeing her hesitate, Callios let out a soft, amused chuckle.

“Stay for just a few hours. I have overdue work to handle anyway.”

“……”

“After you left, I could barely work at all.”

She noticed something on the lakeside table that was pinned down with heavy stones to stop it blowing away in the wind.

As she stepped closer, she saw stacks of invitations and numerous petitions from vassal families.

As she watched, Callios began sifting through the financial documents. Unconsciously, Rosie leaned in, glancing at the pages. When she looked at the document he was reading, he casually angled it towards her, as if inviting her to take a look.

“Want to look together?”

Rosie snapped back to herself and cleared her throat before sitting down across from him.

“No. It’s not my business anymore.”

She’d left the duchy long ago. She should stop caring.

Just then, because Callios was holding the papers loosely, one sheet fluttered dangerously in the wind. Rosie let out a startled cry.

“Be careful!”

Callios swiftly caught the sheet before it blew away but in doing so, his hand brushed against her hat, sending the white hat flying instead.

Rosie jumped to catch it, but her foot caught on the table leg and she stumbled forward.

Thud!

Callios immediately dropped the papers and caught her, one arm around her waist and the other preventing her from hitting her head on the table. Leaning forward, she was held entirely in his grasp, narrowly avoiding a complete fall.

However, her white hat slipped free and drifted gently on the breeze before landing in the lake.

The sheet of paper he had snatched up was already blowing across the water, absorbing the moisture and slowly sinking.

Still held securely in his arms, Rosie whispered tremulously.

“My hat…”

It was one she cherished, one she’d worn since she was young at the count’s estate.

Callios set her upright and carefully checked her clothes.

“You’re not hurt, right?”

“How would I get hurt when I didn’t even fall?”

Her attention was entirely on the hat bobbing helplessly in the lake. Callios clicked his tongue and stepped forward.

“I’ll get it. Just stay still.”

“Are you going to fish it out with a pole?”

“No. I’ll go in. There’s no pole here.”

Rosie grabbed his sleeve in alarm.

“It’s cold today. Wait.”

Trying to hide her disappointment, she forced herself to sound calm.

“I’ll ask the caretaker to retrieve it later.”

“What if it sinks? This lake is big. It’ll be hard to find.”

“Even so… if it’s gone, then it’s gone.”

It had been a precious gift from her late parents. But she pretended not to care about it.

Callios watched her quietly, then began to take off his outer coat.

“I said it’s fine—”

“Say that one more time.”

With a grim grunt, he stripped off as much as possible and strode straight towards the lake.

With each step he took into the cold wind, more of his broad shoulders and bare back were revealed, his muscles flexing and tightening with every movement. Rosie, flustered, rushed after him, her face burning.

The situation was ridiculous and the fact that he was the one doing this made it even more surreal.

“It really is fine—”

“I’ve been in ice water in colder weather before. Don’t make a fuss.”

Already dipping his feet into the lake, Callios answered bluntly. Rosie glared at him, exasperated.

“Why would you do something like that?”

“There are times when you have to.”

What kind of life had he lived?

Suddenly, she remembered what the Marquis had told her about Callios’s mother and the childhood he must have experienced.

The water was far too cold for Rosie, so she stood at the edge of the lake, shifting her weight anxiously from foot to foot.

Callios waded in without hesitating for a moment, and kept going deeper and deeper until he had to start swimming. The lake was far deeper than it appeared. His splashing echoed sharply in the quiet air.

In that brief moment, Rosie’s mind raced through every terrifying possibility: What if there were crocodiles or other creatures lurking beneath the surface? What if he got cramp and sank suddenly? How would she be able to pull him out?

She couldn’t swim either.

The instant she imagined him slipping underwater, a cold shiver crawled up her spine.

Callios wasn’t the type to call for help.

He would just struggle silently until he slowly sank.

The image of his cold, lifeless face flashed through her mind, making her heart pound violently. Rosie pressed a hand to her chest, trying to contain the frantic beating beneath her ribs.

The thought that had just crossed her mind tightened around her throat with frightening force.

It had always been one of her recurring fears, a grim vision she used to imagine whenever she waited for him to return to the duchy.

Callios lying in a coffin, cold and motionless, having been killed on the battlefield.

But before that dreadful image could overwhelm her completely, Callios broke the surface of the water with strong, practiced strokes. He reached her white hat and picked it up with ease.

He hadn’t been gone for long.

When he finally emerged from the lake, water streamed down his long, straight legs, his soaked clothes clinging to him and outlining his toned torso. He raised a hand to push his dripping hair off his forehead, but stopped the moment he spotted Rosie standing there.

Without a word, and still dripping wet, Callios walked towards her and held out the white hat.

“Here.”