Andrean took a seat across from Rosaline, who was leisurely enjoying tea at a table set up in the garden.

Rosaline, who glanced at Andrean’s face, put down her teacup with a thud, making it obvious that she was in a bad mood.

Despite her unwelcoming demeanor, Andrean calmly nodded briefly when a maid said she would bring him a cup.

“Do you really have to pretend to be so virtuous? What does it make me look like when my brother acts that way!”

Andrean, seemingly accustomed to Rosaline’s sharp reactions as soon as she saw him, brought the teacup to his lips and asked.

“What about you? What are you plotting with that maid again?”

When he nodded toward Monica standing behind Rosaline, the maid flinched in surprise and lowered her gaze. Rosaline raised the corner of her mouth as if snorting.

“Anyone listening would think I’m desperate to disgrace our family.”

“As I told you last time, don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

Rosaline, with an expression of disbelief, looked at him with suspicious eyes.

“Brother, you’re so strange? Why are you suddenly interested in that woman? Oh, do you like her too?”

“Don’t make such connections.”

Although Andrean became serious, Rosaline continued her questioning with an even more inscrutable gaze.

“Then what is it? It’s strange, isn’t it? Do you really not know how much it trampled on my pride that you went all the way there to apologize?”

A few days ago, when Rosaline heard that Andrean had met with a maid from House Heinst, she threw a fit with all her might.

While she, the actual person involved, was far from apologetic and trembling with rage at being insulted, it was impossible for her to feel good about a family member, the future marquis, apologizing on her behalf.

Rosaline thought Andrean’s good character was just an act he put on to become the next marquis.

“Brother, you’re a hypocrite.”

“I don’t mind if you see me that way. I’ll always make the best decisions for our family.”

Despite Rosaline’s unfiltered criticism, Andrean refuted with a calm face. Rosaline frowned and glared at Andrean, who kept saying only proper things until the end.

“It’s up to you if you want to act like the family head already, but you’d better not think about controlling me too. Only Father favors you as the heir, I have absolutely no intention of doing so.”

“Hah……”

Andrean, feeling tired of Rosaline who connected everything to the family, let out a long sigh.

The relationship between Andrean and Rosaline, known to the public as affectionate siblings, was actually closer to the opposite. Andrean had endured until now, knowing that it was due to the marquis’s attitude of favoring his son.

But as Andrean, who was well aware that Rosaline often acted excessively, he couldn’t help but be concerned. Recalling the reason he had come here again, he casually asked.

“……You, doesn’t that woman remind you of anything?”

“What should I be reminded of when I see that unpleasant woman?”

Rosaline momentarily wrinkled the bridge of her nose. She had felt like something was about to come to mind since she first saw the woman.

But Rosaline stopped thinking further. In fact, she had something else important now.

‘She wasn’t an ordinary maid after all. They say she was a woman who served as a soldier in the western unit.’

The maid, whom she had driven away telling her not to show her face until she discovered the woman’s identity, had returned with unexpectedly enormous information.

It was surprising enough that she was a maid who knew how to use a sword, but to think she was a woman who had killed people.

It was news that instantly erased her thought that perhaps the woman had somehow learned to use a sword and caught the duke’s eye.

But surprisingly, thanks to this news, Rosaline was able to manage her unpleasant feelings. After all, she could roughly guess the whereabouts of those she had hired last time.

They must have been defeated by that woman.

So even if she hired people again, it would be difficult to achieve the results she wanted. Instead, she shifted her interest in a different direction.

This was because she realized she didn’t need to be anxious about a mere soldier who was worse than a commoner.

A man who had seen nothing but swords all his life might have found a sword-wielding woman refreshing.

It couldn’t possibly be a serious relationship, and certainly not one that would last long, so she didn’t need to be anxious. Therefore, she decided to focus elsewhere.

‘Really, this isn’t the time for me to be like this.’

Rosaline put down her cup entirely as she recalled what she needed to do while the thought was fresh in her mind.

“I’ll be going now. I’m busy.”

“……You.”

“Don’t worry. My business is at home.”

Rosaline, who responded coldly to the concerned Andrean, rose from her seat citing other matters.

“Anyway, I’d appreciate it if you’d stay out of my business.”

Andrean quietly swallowed what he was about to say as he watched Rosaline quickly walking away as if she couldn’t stand sitting with him. It didn’t matter anyway, since she would find out soon enough.

Instead, he briefly fell into thought, recalling how Rosaline had shown no recognition in response to his earlier question. Perhaps it was a natural answer from Rosaline, who had buried the past almost obsessively.

But he trusted his instinct and even had some certainty. He was only hesitating because the countless consequences that would follow would not be good for him at all.

“What do I want to do……”

He quietly thought that perhaps Rosaline’s assessment of him as a “hypocrite” might be correct.

* * *

In the early evening, Flora entered the master bedroom bathroom to attend to the duke’s bath. Hot steam rose from the large bathtub that had been prepared before dinner.

And in the middle of the tub sat the duke with his n*ked body in a languid posture.

Claude, with his firm chest half-submerged in water and both arms resting on the sides of the tub, opened his eyes as if he had heard her entering.

“Please tell me if the water is too hot.”

“It’s fine.”

Flora knelt down and brought a wet towel to create rich lather. Since becoming the duke’s dedicated maid, she had been responsible for attending to his baths.

Although she had reduced her maid duties as instructed, it was because of his order that Flora, not other maids, should attend to his baths.

Claude glanced at Flora, who was wetting a clean towel to create lather, and comfortably leaned his back against the edge of the tub. Sitting in the hot water, his muscles, tense from a day of strain, relaxed languidly.

Flora, kneeling, carefully took Claude’s arm that extended outside the tub and gently rubbed it. White foam spread over his firm forearm.

Claude, entrusting his arm to her gentle touch, stared at Flora as she concentrated on washing his body.

Since when had she put such effort and sincerity into bathing him? Her face, focused without even raising her head, somehow made him feel a sense of regret.

Perhaps due to the humid, stuffy air, her clear cheeks had turned pink. Seeing her occasionally wiping her forehead while pouring hot water, it seemed the maid uniform she wore was quite hot.

“Are you upset because I told you to continue attending to my baths?”

“……No.”

Though her answer was brief, her expressionless face remained unchanged. He slightly raised the corner of his smooth lips.

“Next, the shoulder.”

At his instruction, Flora raised her bent knee and moved close enough to almost touch his left cheek. As she poured hot water over his left shoulder, she remained silent.

His fixed gaze slowly slid down. The smooth line of her neck, moist with steam, caught his eye. Perhaps because she had neatly tied her hair back behind her shoulder, even the water droplets on her skin seemed more visible today.

When he reached out his other hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, Flora’s eyelids rose in surprise.

“……Your hair was falling.”

Flora lowered her gaze as she saw his well-shaped lips rise loosely. Perhaps due to the stuffy air, tension ran through her body. More than that, his lingering gaze felt like it was pricking her skin.

As she tried to stand up after all the foam had disappeared, a firm hand shot out and grabbed Flora’s wrist.

“Where are you going?”

“To get you a towel.”

Her wet hand pointed to a white bath towel folded to the side. Claude, who had tilted his head slightly, moved his gaze from the towel to Flora.

“Not necessary.”

Flora raised her long, dense eyelashes and locked eyes with Claude. As she looked at him wondering if he wanted to stay in the tub longer, Claude’s slightly lowered eyes slowly rose.

“Come in.”