Vincent handed the reins to a servant and climbed into the carriage Laila had come in.

It was a sudden whim.

Or perhaps it was simply an attempt to shake off the haze clouding his mind.

But the moment the carriage began moving through the narrow streets toward the estate he regretted it.

That morning came back to him.

Breaking his promise.

Snapping at her instead.

“It must be a festival.”

Laila spoke as she looked out the window. Autumn festivities had arrived.

“Vincent, shall we get off for a bit and look around the village?”

She asked without taking her eyes off the scenery.

Vincent almost refused then paused.

He had forgotten, but she had waited for him all night.

If he refused even this, he really would be nothing but trash.

“…Alright.”

His reply was short.

Not for her but for himself.

He couldn’t stand owing anyone.

“Thank you.”

They stepped down from the carriage and walked together.

The tense air from earlier vanished, replaced by lively noise.

Laughter bloomed everywhere.

To Vincent, it all felt strangely out of place like he had been cut out from another world.

Children ran around giggling. Couples strolled arm in arm.

His gaze lingered on a man and woman holding hands, smiling.

Come to think of it…

It had been nearly a year since he married Laila and they had never once held hands.

Walking ahead with long strides, Vincent glanced back and froze.

Laila was gone.

“…This damned woman.”

His heart dropped.

Instinctively, he scanned the surroundings.

A noblewoman should know better than to wander off, should stay close to her husband.

Where had she gone? Just as a cold sweat began to form—

“Vincent, why are you walking so far ahead?”

She appeared, holding a robe in her hands.

“You can’t walk around like that. At least wear this.”

She draped the robe over his well-fitted formal attire.

Vincent didn’t resist.

More accurately the tension draining from his body left him momentarily blank.

“…Hmm, it’s a bit short.”

Laila said casually, brushing his clothes.

The robe was indeed too short for someone of his height.

“But it’s better than nothing.”

She wrapped her own robe carefully around her dress, then tugged lightly at his sleeve.

“Let’s go.”

He followed, almost absentmindedly.

The festival itself wasn’t anything special to him.

A man used to nightlife and indulgence found daylight celebrations uncomfortable like wearing clothes that didn’t fit.

The sky was a clear blue.

Autumn leaves painted the streets in shades of red and gold.

A soft breeze carried the scent of the season.

They walked side by side.

Then suddenly Laila stopped.

Vincent halted as well.

Following her gaze, he saw it a small wooden table displaying baby shoes.

‘…Does she like children?’

His brow twitched.

The faint flicker in her violet eyes left him uneasy.

He had always avoided fulfilling the duties expected of a noble.

Perhaps she wanted a child.

Their values clashed there.

Vincent believed an heir could be adopted if necessary while Laila would sometimes absentmindedly rest a hand over her flat stomach.

Still staring at the shoes, she didn’t move.

Vincent ran a hand through his hair irritably, silver strands falling messily around his face.

If she wants them, just buy them already…

Just then, the shopkeeper spoke.

“You must be newlyweds.”

Vincent stiffened.

“The bride is truly beautiful. Must be hard on the husband.”

The man chuckled.

Vincent blinked, caught off guard.

No one had ever complimented his wife in front of him like that.

He didn’t even know how to react.

“This would normally cost one silver, but I’ll just give it to you.”

The merchant handed over the shoes.

Vincent narrowed his eyes slightly, wondering if there was some trick.

Laila’s eyes widened just a little as the tiny shoes were placed in her hands.

“N-No, I should pay—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. You’re pretty, that’s enough.”

After a bit of insistence, she accepted them.

Her expression was strange not quite happy, not quite displeased.

But the way she held the shoes carefully, almost protectively that feeling leaned toward something gentle.

“…….”

Vincent checked his pockets.

He didn’t carry small change, so he had no such thing as the coin the merchant mentioned. Instead, he pulled out a crumpled check bearing the Loardy family seal, scribbled an amount carelessly, and handed it over.

“Th-this is too much—”

“Come to the duchy and settle it.”

Vincent replied indifferently, pressing the check into the merchant’s hand before walking off.

It wasn’t generosity.

He just couldn’t stand being indebted to anyone.

The ride back to the estate was quiet.

Laila stared at the baby shoes in her hands, while Vincent occasionally glanced at her with a strange expression.

“Vincent, do you want to see?”

She noticed his gaze and spoke.

“They’re pretty, aren’t they?”

“What’s so pretty about something like that?”

He scoffed.

And yet he couldn’t look away.

He extended a long finger and slipped it into the tiny shoe, lifting it slightly.

It was absurdly small.

‘Do babies really wear something like this?’

For a moment, a thought crossed his mind that if he held a baby in his large hands, he might hurt it without meaning to.

If the shoes were this small the baby wearing them would be even smaller.

Lost in thought, Vincent glanced at Laila.

Soft sunlight settled behind her.

Perhaps tired from the short walk, she had closed her eyes.

Her cheeks were faintly flushed, her lashes trembling slightly.

Vincent stared at her for a long moment.

She was… not bad to look at.

Not his type but his wife wasn’t unpleasant.

***

When the carriage arrived, Vincent stepped out first.

Out of formality, he extended his hand.

Laila took it and stepped down.

“Vincent, are you free this Saturday?”

She asked, withdrawing her hand.

Vincent stared briefly at his palm, as if chasing the warmth that had already disappeared.

“Vincent?”

“…What did you say?”

“This Saturday. Can you make time?”

That was three days away.

He hadn’t checked his schedule, but if nothing came up, he’d probably just go to a party like usual.

“If you’re not busy—”

“I’m busy.”

He cut her off sharply.

Silence fell.

The warm atmosphere from earlier shattered instantly.

“I—I mean…”

Vincent faltered.

That wasn’t how he meant to say it.

It was just… habit.

“…I see.”

Regardless of his awkwardness, Laila spoke calmly.

“Still, please consider it.”

She asked again.

Vincent nodded vaguely.

“…I’ll think about it.”

It sounded reluctant even to his own ears.

He glanced at her face but she didn’t look disappointed.

If anything…

“……”

Something felt off.

Vincent slowly placed a hand over his chest.

She was the one who had been rejected yet she seemed fine.

Then why did his chest feel so heavy?

Like a stone had been placed there.

“…Seriously.”

He muttered under his breath and started walking again.

Laila Nelasidad had a strange way of making people uncomfortable.

The way she stirred unfamiliar emotions it was irritating.

In many ways.

“Lady Laila! There you are!”

A voice suddenly echoed down the corridor.

It was youthful, likely just past adolescence.

Vincent’s body stiffened.

He turned his head.

A young man with light green hair approached them.

He looked a year or two younger than Vincent, with round emerald eyes and a gentle expression.

“Who’s that?”

Vincent reacted sharply.

Without thinking, he stepped in front of Laila, shielding her behind him.

“Ah…”

Only then did the young man seem to notice him.

He looked flustered, sneaking glances at Laila in a way Vincent didn’t like.

It felt as if he was worried about troubling her and that irritated him even more.

“…Nelasa—no, who is this?”

A strange irritation twisted inside Vincent. He shot Laila a demanding look.

She stepped forward slightly.

“This is Eugene. He’s my physician.”

“Good day, Your Grace. I’m Eugene, currently serving at the duchy.”

The young man greeted him politely.

Vincent narrowed his eyes, scanning him with clear displeasure.

No surname.

A commoner.

Even without introduction, it was obvious.

Not that Vincent himself was a model of etiquette but he was still imperial blood, raised with elite education.

He knew how to distinguish people.

“This is Eugene. He’s a very capable doctor.”

At that moment, Laila smiled softly looking at Eugene with warmth.

And something inside Vincent snapped.

A sharp, unfamiliar sensation twisted in his gut.

His wife smiling.

Not at him.

At another man.

“Vincent?”

“…You’re telling me there’s someone working in my house that I don’t even know about?”

His tone turned cold, edged with hostility.

Laila’s violet eyes widened slightly.