Bel nearly fell backward, but a firm grip around her arm and waist pulled her upright just in time.

“Are you hurt?”

At the sound of a voice that had only recently deepened with adolescence, Bel came back to her senses.

“I’m terribly sorry, madam. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“It’s—it’s all right.”

“You’re not injured anywhere, are you?”

The young knight was flustered with concern as he checked her condition. Although she could not see his face, she could hear the panic in his voice.

Bel slipped out of his grasp and waved her hand lightly.

“I’m fine. There’s no need to w-worry…”

She had intended to calmly reassure him. But before she could finish, she was suddenly pulled backwards.

She could feel a steady heartbeat pounding against her back.

The knight standing before her sucked in a sharp breath.

Only then, sensing the presence behind her, did he realize that the woman he had collided with was the Grand Duchess. Sweat gathered at his temples. He straightened up at once, snapped into a rigid salute and shouted in a voice so loud it rang painfully in her ears.

“Your Grace, the Grand Duke!”

Damian gave him a brief look.

Understanding the silent command, the knight withdrew at once.

As soon as he stepped away, the warmth that had surrounded Bel vanished. A chill brushed over the back of her neck and down her spine.

‘Why is he here?’

The thought had barely formed when Damian’s mocking voice cut through the air.

“I didn’t realize you had a habit of wagging your tail at just anyone. You play the innocent so well that I must have overlooked it.”

“Pardon?”

“Is any man acceptable to you? Will you fall into any arms offered?”

Heat flooded Bel’s face at his accusation.

“That—that’s not true!”

“What exactly isn’t? That you don’t enjoy flirting? Or that you don’t find every man appealing?”

His tone dripped with scorn.

Bel bit her lip once, then answered as firmly as she could.

“Ne-neither.”

Her stammer made her words sound anything but resolute. That hurt more than anything.

Nevertheless, she believed that her sincerity had come across. She had stuttered before, and her voice had not trembled. Surely he would understand?

But Damian merely let out a hollow laugh.

“Ah. So that must be why you gave him the handkerchief.”

The handkerchief?

At that moment, she didn’t understand what he meant. She blinked in confusion.

Damian did not give her time to think. He continued without pause.

“Tell me where your handkerchief is.”

“My handkerchief…?”

The events of that morning, which she had pushed to the back of her mind until now, came flooding back. He must be referring to the one she had hastily hidden from him.

Why was he suddenly asking about it?

What did he mean when he said she had given it to him?

Confusion clouded her thoughts as she answered carefully.

“I—I lost it.”

A short, incredulous laugh cut through the air.

Bel flinched without realizing it. Her answer clearly displeased him.

“You don’t know? You lost it? That’s a convenient excuse, isn’t it?”

Cold, golden eyes bore into her.

Having already concluded that she had given the handkerchief to Fabian, he had no intention of believing anything she said.

“How many men have you lured while pretending to be so innocent? It doesn’t seem like this is your first time.”

“I—I don’t understand what you—”

“Stop speaking as though you know nothing. I’m sick of it. Every time you use that tone, it makes me nauseous.”

His finely shaped eyebrows drew together in open irritation.

Everything about the situation was getting on his nerves.

Seeing her play the innocent maiden made his blood boil. There was Fabian, flaunting Bel’s handkerchief as though it were a trophy. Then there was Bel herself, who had seemingly given it away and was now pretending to be ignorant of the matter. And, above all, his own reaction to it.

That disgusted him the most.

She was no longer someone he treasured.

To him, she was nothing more than the woman who had taken his beloved from him.

Just as she had ruined Isabel’s life, he could ruin hers and cast her aside whenever he chose.

Therefore, it should not have mattered to him who Bel gave her handkerchief to.

And yet—

He cared far more than he should have.

Why?

After turning the question over in his mind, he came to a single, bitter conclusion.

Perhaps he simply could not bear the sight of her happiness.

She, who should have been suffering after he had discarded her, how dare a prince in shining armor appear at her side?

Salvation was not a word that belonged to her.

Such possibilities were better cut off at the root.

She was not meant to be happy. Not even for a fleeting moment.

“Has that mouth of yours become nothing more than decoration?”

There was no hint of anger in Damian’s voice.

It was colder than ice.

“Now that you’ve been exposed as a fraud, you must have decided that I’m no longer worth your time. But giving up the comforts you’ve grown accustomed to would mean lowering your standards, so you turned your attention to the Crown Prince instead. And when one man wasn’t enough, you wagged your tail at anyone within reach.”

Bel’s lips, pressed tightly together, began to tremble with humiliation and wounded pride.

“Was giving him the handkerchief not enough? Is that why you arranged to meet him in secret like this?”

His misunderstanding had reached its height.

Bel was too stunned and shaken to find the courage to correct him.

“……”

“How utterly vulgar.”

The words that followed cut straight through her. With her head bowed, she remained silent, cut to the core by Damian’s merciless scorn.

“If you’re that desperate for a man, you should have made different arrangements instead of marrying me. That would suit you far better. Even now, if you’re so eager to entangle yourself with other men, just say the word. I can grant you at least that much.”

Her fingers tightened around her cane until her knuckles ached.

The heat that had once flushed her cheeks with shame had long since turned to ice.

Without another glance, Damian turned and walked away, leaving her standing there.

Bel remained in that very spot for a long time, unmoving.

***

They returned to the estate.

Nothing happened on the journey back.

He was not in the tent when she arrived and she did not see him again until dawn broke and they left for home. Even after they arrived at the estate, their paths rarely crossed.

As always, she moved quietly through the halls, careful not to draw attention to herself.

The nights remained cold.

At last, she lay down on her bed, pulled the blanket up to her chest and closed her eyes. She was certain that she was tired enough to fall asleep the moment her head touched the pillow.

But the instant she lay still, sleep deserted her.

The room was too silent. Too dark.

It was the perfect environment for her thoughts to deepen and spread.

She hadn’t even tried to correct his misunderstanding. No matter what she said, he would dismiss it as a lie. It would achieve nothing except waste their time.

And yet—

Could she truly leave things this way?

Was it right to let him continue believing those things about her?

Even if she had wanted to clear up the misunderstanding, she wouldn’t have been able to.

She was blind and could barely speak without faltering. What power did she possibly have?

The thought left her feeling drained.

For the first time in a long while, she hated her eyes.

If only she could see, she would have found a way to defend herself.

Her fingers rose unconsciously to brush against her sightless eyelids.

If only she could see…

Just then, the faint sound of a door opening reached her ears.

At this hour, no one should be coming to see her. For a moment, she almost convinced herself that she had imagined it.

“……Miss. My lady.”

A woman’s voice sounded suddenly at her side.

Bel bolted upright.

A scream nearly tore from her throat, but a hand clamped firmly over her mouth.

“Shh. Please be quiet.”

“…Sa—Sarah?”

“Yes. It’s me.”

A chill ran down Bel’s spine, her heart pounding wildly before gradually settling.

She drew in a slow breath and clutched the blanket tightly.

“How did you g-get in here?”

After the incident, Sarah was deliberately kept away from Bel to prevent them from having any further contact. During the day, the head maid watched her so closely that she could barely move without being noticed. At night, her roommate’s light sleep made sneaking out almost impossible.

She waited for the right moment, time and again.

At last, she seized one. She mixed a sleeping draught into her roommate’s tea before bedtime, ensuring that the woman would not wake up. Only then did she slip out in secret.

Now, Sarah pressed something into Bel’s hand.

Confused, Bel carefully felt the object.

It was small and cylindrical, no longer than her finger. It was smooth, perhaps made of glass. When she tilted it slightly, she could faintly hear liquid shifting inside it.

“What is this?”

“A stimulant.”

“What?”

“The baron sent it.”

When Sarah spoke, a feeling of nausea churned in Bel’s stomach. She dropped the vial as though it had burned her. Fortunately, it landed harmlessly on the soft sheets instead of on the floor.

“You want me to d-drink this?”

She had assumed it was meant for her.

But Sarah’s reply was something she had never expected.

“No. Give it to His Highness.”

Bel’s eyes widened.

“To Damian?”

“Even he won’t be able to resist it. It’s strong. If you mix it into tea, it will be noticed—so put it in wine.”

“What are you saying…?”

Sarah spoke of it so casually that Bel was rendered speechless.

“They’ll think he simply lost control from drink. Nothing will happen to you.”

A sense of revulsion rose in her throat. She trembled with it.

The Baron intended to force Damian to become a father.

It was a scheme that no sane person would devise. Any lingering attachment she might have felt for him evaporated entirely.

She had thought it strange how quiet he had been. A man of that temperament would never let matters rest so easily.

Bel bit the inside of her cheek, then said firmly.

“I c-can’t. I won’t. I refuse.”

“Miss, you must.”

“No. This is madness!”

“Miss!”

Sarah seized her arm.

She tightened her grip around her forearm, the faint outline of her veins standing out against the back of her hand. Bel could hear Sarah breathing heavily.

“Please.”

Sarah whispered, her voice trembling.

“Save me.”