As soon as Milian finished speaking, Vincent’s expression stiffened, just slightly.

But Baron Siole, failing to notice the fleeting change, laughed and added,

“You couldn’t leave the empire anyway. You’re part of the imperial family.”

The Zeronia Empire carried an old myth that those of imperial blood could not leave for foreign lands.

More precisely, if they stayed away too long, the goddess’s wrath would fall upon them.

“Right. A cursed imperial family, how tragic.”

Vincent mocked as he pulled out another cigarette and lighter.

“Maybe I’ll suffocate crossing the sea… Still, I’d hate for this handsome face to be ruined.”

His sharp grin drew laughter from his friends.

It wasn’t particularly funny but coming from someone who treated life so lightly, the irony made it amusing.

He had been saying things like that for eight years now.

Long enough for his friends to grow used to it.

“Our Vincent can’t die yet. Lady Loardy would become a widow.”

“She’d probably ask to be buried with him.”

Siole chimed in.

“You insane b*stard.”

The atmosphere froze instantly, as if doused with cold water.

Vincent’s red eyes flashed dangerously, his expression hardening.

“Hey, what? A man should have a woman by his side when he goes.”

Siole gave an awkward laugh, realizing he had crossed a line.

“Haha… why’d you have to say that… Anyway, how’s that business of yours going?”

Another friend quickly changed the subject, breaking the tension.

The suffocating air shattered.

“…Hoo.”

Vincent exhaled a cloud of smoke, trying to bury the unease in his chest.

The gray sky outside, thick with fog, only made his mood worse.

He forced down the nameless pressure rising in his throat.

“One day… I’ll go. I’ll cross that sea…”

His quiet murmur was swallowed by the chatter around him.

Vincent had everything.

Family, a noble house, friends everything was here.

No matter how recklessly he lived, he had never truly intended to leave the empire.

Not yet.

‘Just marry me for three years. After that, I’ll divorce you.’

Vincent held the cigarette between his lips and stared into the heavy fog outside.

Raindrops fell and extinguished the flame.

What a d*mn miserable day.

***

When Vincent returned to the estate, he found Laila Loardy standing outside, drenched in the rain.

She gazed up at the sky with absent eyes.

In an instant, a surge of hot anger rose from his chest and consumed his mind.

He strode toward her, irritation evident in every step.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

She wore thin indoor clothes, with only a light coat draped over her shoulders.

The flimsy fabric let the wind cut straight through.

Vincent frowned deeply.

Seeing her stand there, soaked and oblivious, was infuriating.

“I asked what you’re doing out here.”

When she didn’t answer, he grabbed her arm.

“…Ah.”

Laila let out a small sound, startled.

Only then did her eyes begin to focus, as if she had just become aware of herself.

Vincent, in turn, found himself taken aback.

He had thought she was waiting for him after telling him to come home early.

But judging by her reaction… that wasn’t it.

“……Forget it.”

With a sharp frown, he brushed past her.

“Vincent, wait.”

She caught his arm.

Her soft chest brushed against him and Vincent instinctively shook her hand off.

The force of his reaction made her eyes widen slightly.

Even Vincent was startled by himself.

His hand hovered awkwardly in the air for a moment.

“I’m sorry. If that made you uncomfortable…”

Laila broke the silence first.

Something in his chest felt heavy.

“…Forget it. Just say what you wanted.”

He avoided her gaze, his expression sour.

Being near her felt strangely uncomfortable.

That damned woman, did she not know what people were whispering outside?

Today, more than ever, she seemed foolish to him.

And the dull ache in his chest only made things worse.

“…Vincent, if you haven’t eaten yet, would you like to have dinner together?”

“Not today.”

He refused immediately, frowning.

“But, Vincent—”

“I said no!”

His voice snapped out, harsher than usual.

She flinched for a moment but did not back down.

“It’s just… it’s been a long time since we’ve eaten together.”

“Hah…”

Vincent let out a long, exasperated sigh.

Running a hand through his neatly styled hair, he glared at her.

“You have no charm as a woman at all.”

“……”

“Do you not realize this only makes you more tiresome?”

Her pitiful persistence disgusted him.

Without another word, Vincent brushed past her, pulling away before she could stop him again.

***

“…My lady.”

Becky looked at Laila with concern.

From the moment they returned to the room, her mistress had stood by the window, staring blankly outside.

It pained Becky to see her small figure bow her head so weakly.

Tap. Tap.

The sound of rain hitting the window echoed softly in the silence.

Becky prepared the bath and spoke gently.

“My lady, your bath is ready.”

Even after a long while, there was no reply.

Had her voice been swallowed by the sound of the rain?

Becky stepped closer and repeated herself.

“…I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Laila’s unfocused eyes slowly regained clarity.

“I’ve prepared the bath. The water is warm.”

“Mm… thank you. I’ll take it from here.”

“Yes, then I’ll wait outside.”

Becky nodded.

She left with a faintly regretful expression, closing the door behind her.

She had served Laila for a long time yet at some point, her mistress had begun to keep her at a distance.

It left a bitter feeling behind.

***

“You went too far, Your Grace.”

Meanwhile, Vincent frowned at the butler’s sudden remark.

“Have you gone senile?”

“My apologies if I’ve overstepped.”

Philip bowed his head at once.

A loyal retainer of House Loardy, but the man before him was its lord.

“However… the young lady has not yet had her evening meal…”

The butler spoke carefully, as if testing the waters.

Vincent raised a brow.

What did that have to do with him?

“She was waiting to dine with you, Your Grace.”

At that awkward addition, Vincent’s expression crumpled like paper.

What a foolish woman.

Did she even know what he had been doing outside?

He had mocked her openly, made her the subject of cheap amusement.

Vincent crumpled the newspaper in his hand.

“She can eat later. Today, I—”

His words trailed off.

No matter how shameless he was, he wasn’t the kind of man who could sit across from a woman he had just humiliated and eat as if nothing had happened.

That would make him a monster beyond redemption.

Still, he had gone along with his friends’ words.

After a moment of silence, he spoke again.

“…Where is she?”

He asked about Laila.

The butler answered immediately, as though he had been waiting.

“She has gone to the bedroom.”

“…I see. You may go.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Left alone, Vincent felt uneasy.

He tossed the newspaper aside and dropped onto the couch.

Laila Nelasidad was already thin, already fragile.

If she skipped meals like this, there would be nothing left but bone.

D*mn it.

‘Why should I even care…?’

He ran a hand irritably through his hair, leaving it disheveled.

He hated complicated things.

Simple arrangements suited him best take what each wanted, part ways the next day.

That was his way.

Vincent disliked anything troublesome.

More than that, he hated things that felt suffocating.

And Laila, she had a way of suffocating him.

With heavy steps, as if marching into enemy territory, he made his way toward the bridal chamber.

His expression was dark.

“Y-Your Grace!”

Becky, who had been waiting outside, startled.

She stared at her master, his handsome face twisted in irritation.

His red eyes burned with displeasure.

His ash-gray hair was in complete disarray.

And yet, even like that, his appearance was striking.

Becky found herself staring before she snapped back to her senses.

No wonder he was called the libertine of high society.

Even with such a harsh expression, there was something about him that drew people in.

“Is she asleep?”

Vincent’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“Yes… she just fell asleep.”

Becky answered.

Then, a flicker of regret crossed her face.

If she had known he would come, perhaps her mistress would have stayed awake longer.

“…I see.”

Vincent nodded and turned away.

Though it was their shared chamber, he hesitated to enter tonight.

It still felt strange being husband and wife with Laila Loardy.

And he had no interest in watching a sleeping woman.

Just as he was about to leave creak.

The door opened.

“Vincent?”

Laila looked at him with a faintly puzzled expression.

Vincent froze, startled.

“…I didn’t think you’d come back.”

“Is there a reason I wouldn’t? This is my room too.”

He replied, stubbornly.

Almost out of pride.

Vincent brushed past her, squeezing through the doorway, and threw himself onto the bed as if to prove a point.

He could feel her gaze on his back.

Ignoring it, he turned sharply to face the other side.

Even after lying down, the awkwardness didn’t fade.

“……”

A few minutes passed.

Sensing no movement, Vincent turned his head.

Laila was still standing there watching him.

Her violet hair, loosened from sleep, had been gathered neatly again.

‘…Why isn’t she lying down?’

He forced his gaze away from her body, narrowing his eyes.

Then he glanced at the bed.

It was large enough for two, even three people.

‘Then why…?’

Suppressing the irritation rising within him, Vincent finally opened his mouth.