She had anticipated it, so she took the blows willingly. The word “willingly” was almost laughable—she had simply lost the will to resist.

Aeril had been caught not by Catherine, but by Diovan, while she was with Aquero—yet the outcome was no different.

Aeril’s hand, passed from the Grand Duke to Diovan and then finally to Catherine, only returned to its usual state once it reached Catherine. The sweat that had soaked her palm had dried up completely.

— It seems she came aboard with the Grand Duke. Her legs must have been giving her trouble.

No lengthy explanation was needed. Diovan pushed Aeril into Catherine’s circle with a single short remark, and Catherine, covering her lips with a fan, approached Aeril. She patted Aeril with a gaze full of concern and personally guided her to the room.

Thud.

The door shut firmly, and Aeril felt the tension drain from her body. She surrendered herself to Catherine and watched her own corset drop to the floor. The lashing across her back would come any moment now.

Crack! Crack!

The switch Catherine brought down raked across her back again and again. All manner of curses poured into her ears, yet a hollow laugh slipped out of Aeril despite everything. Groans forced their way out and broke the shallow breaths at her lips.

“Stupid girl.”

“……”

“Even when someone lays the board out for you, you kick it over yourself. What did you think you were going to accomplish by clinging to a man with no strings left.”

A man with no strings left.

That must have been how she referred to Aquero, who had not been appointed Crown Prince.

So that was why Aquero had looked so displeased at the word “Your Grace.”

The crooked smile he had worn flashed through Aeril’s mind for a moment. The arms that had barely held her trembling body up went slack as the tension left her.

“Stay put and keep quiet until I come back for you. Put your undergarments on after your back dries.”

The skin had apparently broken and bled.

Catherine, who had rattled off her instructions not out of concern for Aeril but for her own sake, had a servant bring her a glass of cold water, drank it herself, and left the room.

Aeril lay face-down on the bed and stared blankly at the afternoon sunlight filtering through the round porthole.

“…… It stings.”

Her back, which had endured Catherine’s fury—or what Catherine called discipline—stung, but what stung even more were her eyes.

The rims of her eyes burned. She blinked her lashes a few times, then simply let her eyelids fall shut. Something warm trickled out and ran down her face in the direction she lay.

She could not understand why tears were falling for no particular reason.

Has today been especially heartbreaking? No. It was no different from any other day. Compared to the beatings she had endured over more than ten years since entering the ducal household, this was nothing.

It was all because of those strange words she had heard that day.

Lyden’s remark—that being a half-wit was better than being a true member of the ducal family—had stirred something in her chest for no good reason.

‘So there was someone else who thought the same as me. Everyone always told me to live in gratitude.’

They said that without parents, left out on the streets, she would have died or suffered something terrible. That she was lucky. That she was fortunate. That it did not matter whether she was truly the Duke and his wife’s daughter or not.

Those who did not know the full story always spoke with such ease. They cast envious looks at her lavish outward appearance.

It was not only resentment from those beneath her station. Nobles her own age also let slip quiet contempt and mockery.

I never wanted any of this.

Once she was grown, she had even made a request of the Duke.

She had asked whether he could help her find her mother’s remains.

The Duke, reviewing documents at his desk, had tossed out an answer with a look of irritation.

— Already dealt with. Scattered her ashes at sea.

Aeril had stood before him with her hands folded, steadied her shock, and asked once more. Could he tell her which sea?

But the answer that came back was “I don’t know.” He said he had told the servants to handle it however they saw fit, and they had cremated her and disposed of her at sea.

Tears welled up at that, but she offered a polite word of thanks and walked out of the study.

Then she sank down in the hallway, imagining her mother discarded without a second thought.

She could not take another step, and for a long while she hid her tears right there in that spot.

If she had only known the place, she could have at least sent word. That her mother had left a little early, but she had grown up just fine. That she need not worry about her anymore. She could have reached out and touched even a single wave.

The things that came naturally to others were so far out of reach for her.

She was not even permitted the time to grieve the mother who had left before her.

“…… Edelin……”

The one small comfort was that all seas were connected.

She hoped the waves of Tiahi had carried themselves to wherever her mother was. That they had passed along even a little of her story.

All she could do back then was pray. The same was true now.

Since entering the ducal household, facing the sea was something she had not done in a very long time. She could say it was the first time entirely.

The sudden longing to face the sea took hold of Aeril, and she changed out of her dress into an inconspicuous day dress.

She layered two chemises to keep the blood from showing through. Just to be safe, she draped a shawl over the dress as well.

With a bonnet pulled firmly down over her face, Aeril moved carefully through the empty corridors of the ship.

She headed not toward the decorated upper deck, but in the direction where the crew members came and went.

A little further into the corner, and there was no one. She opened a small porthole and let the breeze wash over her.

The great ship moved slowly. The crescent-shaped Tolaite mainland grew distant, and the small surrounding islands came into view. These small islands were Tolaite’s territory as well.

“I wondered what it was, sneaking in like a little rat.”

Aeril, who had been hanging off the round porthole with her head leaning out, had no choice but to freeze.

“Is the Duke of Ronz putting you up to something again this time? Why? What were you planning to do all the way out here in the navigation room?”

She slowly turned at the familiar voice, and there stood Lyden in more relaxed clothing than before.

His hair was wet, suggesting he had showered after boarding the ship.

“My lady, speak.”

The waves crashed and broke against the hull.

Aeril snapped her mouth shut—it had fallen open in surprise—and took a step back from him.

“I greet His Highness the Crown Prince.”

“Answer first.”

She straightened up slowly from the bow she had dipped into. Aeril pressed down the trembling in her chest and began carefully.

“It was nothing. I only came to get a little fresh air……”

“With a perfectly good deck right there?”

“I have poor health, so places with many people are difficult for me. So I came here for a moment……”

“I suppose you really are unwell. Dressed in all these layers despite the heat, and on top of that, a hat in a spot with no sunlight. Not unwell in body, but unwell in the head……”

Lyden’s sharp assessment of Aeril trailed off as his gaze settled on her eyes. A redness lingered on her thin eyelids. The swollen look of them suggested it was not something that had just happened.

“Have you been crying?”

Lyden was not one to hide his feelings or hold back what he wanted to say. He was also not in a position where he needed to.

“No.”

The answer came out of Aeril immediately, and Lyden let out a short scoff.

“You know, my lady.”

Lyden closed the distance Aeril had put between them.

“I have a good eye for people’s habits. You cannot look someone in the eye when you lie. But when you answer something you believe to be right, you speak plainly and hold your gaze just fine.”

Aeril’s lowered eyelids flickered faintly.

“See. Just like when you insisted you were not a half-wit. And right now, when you walked out wearing that ridiculous hat because you cried your eyes swollen.”

Lyden’s gaze, which had been on her, shifted toward the noisy view outside the porthole.

The sound of waves crashing through the open porthole must have bothered him—he reached out and took hold of the latch on the frame.

“……”

Then he let go again and continued, “Right. So I’ll take it that the Duke did not put you up to this. Why not get a little air and head back. This is not a place for you to linger.”

Aeril, who had been clutching the side of her dress, reached out and shut the porthole quickly.

“I will go back now.”

She bowed to Lyden and carefully slipped past him. Once a little distance opened between them, she all but fled back to her room.

* * *

‘Was she actually unwell?’

Lyden held his cards stacked together as the image of Aeril from earlier lingered in his mind.

The side profile of Aeril, clutching the knot of the shawl tied across her chest and moving in quick little steps, had been nagging at him since a while ago.

The celebration banquet was well underway, yet she had not appeared.

Beneath the crystal chandelier that lit the center of the hall in brilliant light, among the pairs holding hands and weaving together in dance, he could not find Aeril Ronz.

The same on the second floor where he sat.

At the tables where glasses and chips changed hands, there was no trace of her either. More and more guests were losing themselves to the atmosphere, yet she alone had not stepped into the hall. Every other member of the ducal family was already here.

‘Then she should not have acted so suspiciously. Walking around looking like that, anyone would have their doubts……’

The reason something so trivial irritated him this much was probably because he had seen that look on her face.

Because the side of her face as she leaned her head out the porthole had looked so free. And because the eyes that met his, by contrast, were wet in a way that was almost pitiful.

It was simple compassion—the kind any person could feel. Nothing more than that.

“Your Highness……?”

“Carry on without me.”

Lyden tossed the hand he had been holding onto the table and rose from his seat. The eyes of everyone playing the game snapped to him at once. He ignored them and was about to move when —

“Deal me back in.”

“Pardon……?”

“The cards. Deal me back in.”

The silhouette of the young lady appeared at the entrance to the second floor.

Her sky-blue hair braided up elaborately, set with jewels and feathers.

‘So she was not unwell after all.’

The fleeting thought—relief—passed through him and he pushed it aside. Lyden, his expression considerably lighter, settled back into his seat.