Bjorn carefully unfolded the neatly creased letter.

The one on top. A love letter he had written early that morning.

Even today, without fail — to you, whom I love to madness.

It was a shameless thing to have written, coming from a man who would be married within hours. What followed was even more so.

How many love letters had he written like this? Hundreds? Thousands? He could no longer remember, nor could he recall their contents.

But the closing was always the same.

Yours alone — your Bjorn, who loves only you.

Nothing ever changed. It had always been this way. He had become Ivnen’s husband, yet he had always longed for someone else, always loved another. That was how it had been, and how it would remain. Ivnen, too, would go on loving him.

And so he understood it even less.

Her attitude. Ivnen’s.

How on earth.

How could Ivnen say something like that to him……

On the fourth finger turning the letter over and over, the pale violet gem set into his wedding ring caught the light and trembled, silent.

“My lord.”

The sudden, polite knock drew Bjorn’s gaze up at last, slow and unhurried.

“It’s Felix. May I come in?”

“Enter.”

Bjorn pushed the letter back into the depths of the desk and answered in a word. A moment later the door opened, and a young man with brown hair stepped inside.

Felix — one of the few people Bjorn trusted, and his personal guard knight.

“The report on the matter you requested, my lord. You said to have it ready as soon as possible, so……”

It was the first night of the man’s honeymoon, all the same — Felix couldn’t help but think it rather excessive to be working like this. But he wasn’t smooth-tongued enough to say so out loud.

Bjorn took the report and read through it slowly, then let out a small breath and murmured,

“It seems I’ll need a little time.”

“Yes, that does appear to be the case.”

“That’s enough for today. Go get some rest.”

“A-and you, my lord……?”

“I still have a few things left to see to.”

“……Yes, understood. Oh, and——”

Felix had been speaking naturally enough, but he suddenly shot Bjorn a cautious glance. Bjorn looked up, his expression asking what the matter was, and after a brief pause Felix opened his mouth with great care.

“My lord — I believe my lady may have misunderstood something.”

“Misunderstood what.”

“The marriage proposal, my lord.”

“……”

“I overheard the conversation you had yesterday with the maid called Dek. I wasn’t trying to listen, but……. In any case, it seemed my lady was under the impression that your proposal was originally meant not for her, but for her half-sister, Lilien Denia.”

Bjorn said nothing. He only looked at Felix with a still, unreadable face.

“It’s common knowledge that Duke Stein wants to make Lilien Denia the Empress. But since he couldn’t dismiss your proposal outright, my lady believed he had simply palmed her off in her sister’s place……”

As he listened, Bjorn’s brow drew together.

“But the proposal was always addressed to Lady Ivnen — my lady — from the very beginning.”

But it had all been a misunderstanding. Bjorn had never sent a proposal to Lilien. As Felix had said, the proposal had belonged to Ivnen from the very beginning.

“I think it would be best if you set her straight, my lord. She doesn’t show it openly, but my lady is clearly troubled by it……”

“Leave it.”

“Pardon?”

“I said, leave it.”

Felix could not make any sense of it. If things stayed as they were, my lady would spend her days tiptoeing around him, drowning in self-reproach — and he was telling him to simply let that be? Felix blinked before he could stop himself, eyes wide with bewilderment.

“And Felix.”

“Yes…… yes, go ahead, my lord.”

“She may go wherever she likes in the count’s estate, but make sure Ivnen never enters this room. Under any circumstances.”

“The study……?”

What could possibly be so special about it? It was a study, nothing more. Granted, it was arranged with a touch more secrecy than most noble households, but surely not to the degree that the countess herself would be barred from setting foot inside.

“She likely won’t try to come on her own, but if it ever comes to that — stop her by whatever means necessary.”

“……”

“Do you understand me?”

“Understood.”

“Good. You may go.”

Whether Felix was unsettled or not, Bjorn had said what he needed to say. He closed his lips, his expression dry and final.

Felix offered a respectful bow and took his leave. Bjorn was alone in the study once more.

And there he stayed — turning over the conversation he’d had with Ivnen, gnawing endlessly at the memory of her face, cold as anything — until the moon had set and the sun had risen.

* * *

Several days passed.

Nothing of particular note occurred. Bjorn vacated the estate as a matter of course, and did not return.

Whether out of pity for Ivnen, left to squander the precious days of her honeymoon like this, Dek continued to offer what comfort she could.

You know how it is, my lady — the master is terribly busy. Please don’t take it to heart.

Ivnen said nothing.

She only thought of Bjorn — somewhere out there, leaving her behind, sharing his love with his mistress.

“My lord returned in the early hours of this morning, my lady.”

Then, around midday——

Dek came to her with a bright smile, finding Ivnen seated on the terrace, taking her tea in the autumn sun.

“I only just found out myself, my lady. He’s in the study at the moment, seeing to the rest of his work.”

“……”

“Isn’t that wonderful? The two of you can have a quiet dinner together this evening!”

She’ll be pleased, I know it. She never lets it show, but she must have been so lonely.

But Ivnen’s reaction was nothing at all like what Dek had imagined.

“There’s really no need to go to that trouble.”

“……Pardon?”

“If he’s shut himself away in the study, he’ll be staying there a good while yet. Why bother a busy man for nothing?”

Bjorn’s pattern never changed. Whenever he came home after a long absence like this, he always retreated straight to the study. And then he would disappear again without a word of warning.

“He hasn’t eaten, they said — that’s what worried me, so I thought……”

There had been a handful of times she had gone to the study herself. But the response that came back was always the same.

“I don’t need anything. Go back to your room.”

Bjorn had said it with a cold face and colder words, and shut the door in her face. How tightly that closed study door had gripped her heart — Ivnen could still remember it with perfect clarity.

He had never once permitted her to enter the study.

And after that.

One of the maids, a girl who had felt sorry for her, had once come to her with a carefully guarded expression and pressed something into her hands.

She’d found it while cleaning the study, she said.

To you, whom I love beyond measure.

It was one of Bjorn’s love letters — achingly tender, tender enough to make one’s blood run hot — and it was addressed to someone who was not her.