Fiata, who had despised his younger brother, died bleeding in front of him. He had consumed the poison Kyron had given him.
It was the moment the master of the Ducal House changed.

The eldest half-brother, Fiata, was executed for his crimes. The second half-brother, Grego, fled like a coward.

Fueled by his thirst for revenge, Kyron had felt an indescribable thrill when Fiata spewed blood.
But that thrill had been fleeting.

The completion of his revenge is accompanied by a sense of emptiness.
Though he had finally succeeded in avenging his mother after all those years, she would never return. Fiata’s corpse was a cold reminder of that truth.

If only he hadn’t lost his mother in the first place. If only he had been able to protect her.

The success of his revenge brought not a sense of victory but guilt and futility.
Had he really devoted seven years of his life for this?

The realization pierced him to his core, perhaps even more painfully than the day he had lost his mother.

To escape that anguish, Kyron had to set a new goal. To find Grego, who had fled to the temple, and kill him.

From then on, his desperate desire to kill Grego had been his sole focus, driving him forward. He hadn’t had the luxury to look around him. If he didn’t relentlessly push forward, he felt uneasy.

But… because of his tendency to charge ahead without looking around, had he been missing something important all this time?

As he walked, thinking of his wife, the question suddenly crossed his mind.

***

Kyron left, and I was alone in my room again.
Should I say I got through it safely or not?

Leaning against the headboard, I burrowed back under the blanket.
I thought about sleeping a bit more, but I was already wide awake and no longer felt sleepy.

I stared blankly at the ceiling.

He told me to prepare an answer. What should I say? It’s a dilemma.
Various half-baked answers flitted through my mind, but none of them seemed usable.

As I mulled over this and that, my husband’s face from earlier popped into my head.
When he had grabbed my hand and stared at my wrist, a memory from before I had possessed Ekette’s body overlapped with the scene.

It was over a year ago, before we were married.
Kyron had visited my distant hometown.

At that point, a marriage proposal had already arrived from the Duke, but Ekette had dismissed it as some cruel prank by someone with a twisted sense of humor.
There was no way the illustrious Duke would propose such an absurd marriage.

It wasn’t until the Duke, whom she had never imagined speaking to in her lifetime, entered her house that Ekette realized this was no joke.

Listening to the explanation of the support she would receive after marriage and the condition that she must not interfere in the Duke’s affairs, the reality of the deal hit her. She was the object of the transaction.

After the awkward conversation, which wasn’t even worthy of being called a proposal, the Duke had taken her hand and lightly kissed the back of it before leaving.

Even after seeing his expressionless eyes that day, Ekette hadn’t been able to predict what her married life would be like. Who gets married expecting their spouse to treat them as if they don’t exist?

His eyes that day and his eyes today were similar.
For the most part, the way my husband looked at me always felt expressionless. Either he was angry or emotionless.

I’ve never seen him smile, not even once.

Of course, I know he’s someone who lives solely for revenge, driven by that single goal.
Given his character, an unsmiling face suits him better. He’s someone who only contemplates avenging his mother’s unjust death. There’s no room for smiles.

But if revenge is the only emotion he has, why did he propose to her?
Was it truly just to escape the mounting pressure to marry?

Or was it because he couldn’t find anyone else he liked, so he settled for someone as unremarkable as her?

That thought left me feeling a bit bitter. It made me feel like I had been reduced to a tool.

As my thoughts continued, I began to drift off to sleep.

…In my drowsiness, I thought, “Maybe I secretly hope there’s another reason behind this marriage.”

I worried that Kyron might barge in at any moment, demanding, “I gave you time, now give me an answer!” But he didn’t come. Not for the rest of the day.

The next time I saw Kyron was the following day.
He showed up with a royal hospital doctor in tow.

“I want you to conduct a regular check-up to see if my wife’s condition has improved and also examine her wrist.”

“Yes, I’ll do so. But when you say her wrist…”

At the doctor’s question, Kyron pointed at my wrist, which was no longer swollen.

“It was swollen yesterday.”

“Ah… I see. Understood.”

The doctor looked at my wrist curiously but reluctantly agreed.

He first conducted some of the tests he had done before. They were to check my overall health.

“How is she?”

“She seems to have slightly more energy than last time. There’s a bit more vitality in her. Has the frequency of coughing and hemoptysis decreased compared to before?”

The doctor pondered the question but upon reflection, there hadn’t been a noticeable decrease in the frequency of coughing or hemoptysis compared to before.

“No, it’s about the same.”

The doctor looked slightly disappointed.

“I see. Still, if you continue to eat well and exercise regularly, you’ll improve.”

“Yes.”

It was always the same thing in the end. I was truly sick of hearing it by now.

“And let me take a look at your wrist as well.”

I thought he’d just glance at it and say, “It seems fine,” but the doctor pulled out yet another piece of equipment just for this.

“What’s that device?”

“It measures inflammation or swelling that has occurred in the body. It can even trace inflammation or swelling that occurred some time ago.”

Oh, what an interesting device.

“Let me see your wrist for a moment…”

I extended my wrist to the doctor. Kyron stood beside me, observing the entire process.

“Hmm…”

The doctor brought the device to my wrist and examined it. After a moment, he spoke again.

“As you mentioned, it seems the wrist was swollen. This type of swelling usually occurs when the wrist is gripped tightly or bound to something…”

The doctor trailed off. His gaze shifted to Kyron.

“Your Grace, the Duchess is still unwell and fundamentally, her body is weak, so she requires absolute rest.”

Why did it sound like he was reprimanding Kyron?

“To ensure absolute rest, you must avoid gripping her tightly or causing any unnecessary strain. Any activity that might cause shock or stress should be avoided. Even excessive physical contact could be harmful at this time.”

Hey, that’s not what happened!

What was even more surprising was that Kyron didn’t argue with the doctor’s remarks and simply listened silently.

“For now, since the swelling has subsided, no additional treatment should be necessary.”

“…Understood. Thank you for your efforts.”

The doctor left after prescribing the usual medication.