“Hmm… Did she scratch her hands when she fell? Clean them with a clean wet cloth and apply this ointment. The ointment, let’s see.”

The doctor took out some ointment from his bag. Then he placed it in Rihanel’s hand.

“You should apply it yourself, shouldn’t you?”

The doctor said slyly. It was something he would never have done had he known that the man before him was one of only three dukes in the country.

But the doctor simply thought that the guest who had suddenly called him was a husband who had wronged his wife somehow. So he left, feeling satisfied that he had provided an opportunity for the couple to reconcile.

Rihanel stared blankly at the ointment, then had a servant prepare a clean wet cloth and bandages for the wounds.

Janet might be reluctant to have him apply the ointment, but the doctor had instructed it.

Quietly, but deeply inhaling, Rihanel carefully lifted Janet’s right hand and cleaned it with the wet cloth.

The cut from the glass was still there. A wound on top of another wound. It seems like by the time this wound heals, she’ll have created another one.

Fortunately, the scrape wasn’t too severe. But….

Rihanel’s brow narrowed as he looked at Janet’s wound.

For a moment he almost clenched his fist tightly, but stopped when he realized Janet’s small hand was resting on his.

One of his eyebrows lowered. The area above his lips twitched.

As he wiped away the dirt with the wet cloth, the wound became clearly visible.

So this wasn’t a scrape from falling once.

It came from rubbing the same spot multiple times.

Rihanel carefully put down Janet’s hand and grabbed the hem of her dress.

Thinking “surely not,” he hesitated while gripping it. But confirmation was needed. He lifted Janet’s skirt up to her knees.

“…Hmm.”

A trembling sound escaped through his clenched teeth.

Stop joking around.

Although the skirt had been acting as a protective barrier, her knees were in the same condition.

Injuries from when she collapsed?

No, isn’t this doctor a complete quack? When we return to Reynes Manor in the capital, I should have her examined by the family doctor again.

This wasn’t scraped all at once.

She had crawled. Roughly scraping against a rough, sharp, bumpy floor, getting cut, scraping again, getting cut again. That’s how these wounds were made.

This woman, this dignified and upright woman.

She had crawled on all fours like a dog on that rough and dirty floor.

“Why?”

Why on earth were you in there? Why were you alone in that old, unused storage shed?

Who put you in there? Did someone who hates you as much as I do tell you to stay in that dirty, filthy, dusty storage shed?

Yes, he couldn’t understand.

If someone hadn’t forcibly, compulsorily put Janet in there, why was the person who said she was going to rest found in that shabby storage shed?

And why was he himself so angry about this fact?

Only now did he have to irritably acknowledge it.

Today, he was curious about something else regarding Janet Wilton. Not the truth of that day, but why she had collapsed there alone.

Rihanel placed his hand on Janet’s wound. The red blood seeping between the scraped flesh touched him.

And then.

“A person died, yet you only received a 10-year sentence. Moreover, you were released after just five years as a model prisoner.”

Before he could open his eyes, the pompous voice of a man reached him. Though using honorifics, the tone was thoroughly disrespectful. Was this something a prison guard said when she was released?

Just as he was thinking that, he realized the man had used the word “wife.” And the fact that Janet Wilton had become Janet Reynes only a few days ago.

This was a recent event.

Of course, he roughly knew that many people outside didn’t view her favorably. She would probably hear such things. But pathetically, why wasn’t she retorting?

Thinking this, he opened his eyes somewhat fiercely.

Rihanel’s face went blank.

“……”

It was today.

Janet, standing on the green lawn, was bowing her head at the center of people. It looked almost like a public hearing.

The man rambled on more, and meanwhile Janet tightly wrapped the shawl around her body. Now that he looked, it wasn’t just that she was nervous; she truly looked unwell.

“So, the trial is the trial. I wonder what the duke thinks about how much time you spent with another man?”

What?

Rihanel’s expression hardened.

‘Crazy bastard…. Whatever I think, why are you curious about that?’

His voice disappeared like air bubbles in a wave.

Fortunately, Panianna intervened and the situation ended, and Janet walked away somewhere.

Rihanel followed behind Janet, venting various complaints into the air. You’re just listening to that? You should retort as if you’re talking to me.

The anger boiling inside him spread to those around them. He was angry at his aunt, at her uncle and aunt.

Shouldn’t they have cut off the conversation from the beginning? What were they doing that allowed the conversation to flow to such an extent?

However, more important than his anger and dissatisfaction with them now was why Janet had been in that storage shed.

Surely someone must have lured her to the storage shed.

Rihanel crossed his arms and followed behind Janet, slowly looking around.

Whoever it was, keeping a woman who was a duchess in a storage shed was also making a mockery of the Reynes name.

So if he found the culprit….

‘Janet.’

Rihanel called to Janet from behind. He tried to run to her and grab her arm.

But neither his voice nor his hand reached her.

Janet had entered that old, shabby storage shed of her own accord.

There was no luring, no force from anyone.

***

Bang! At the sound of the door closing, Janet squeezed her eyes shut and staggered.

Her head rang loudly. She felt dizzy, as if she had spun several times in place.

Her legs gave out involuntarily, and Janet collapsed forward onto the ground. As the cold temperature of the floor was felt through her hands pressed against it, her already chilled body grew colder.

Her whole body felt heavy and yet infinitely buoyant at the same time. Even the silence flowing through the storage shed felt vivid, making her whole body tingle.

Janet frowned and breathed shallowly with her eyes closed, but this dizziness showed no signs of disappearing.

Finally, she slowly opened her eyes. Though it was dark with only one small window, the darkness wasn’t the problem. Any place where she could lie down would be fine.

The issue was realizing that she had entered this storage shed, which seemed hardly changed from eight years ago. That she had suddenly realized this fact.

“……!”

She couldn’t breathe.

Just coming to the site of Philodis already made her feel like someone was constantly strangling her. On top of that, entering here caused the emotions from that day to crash over her like waves.

Over there was where the wooden box containing candles and candlesticks had been, and past the area full of junk, there had been oil drums that could have burned down an entire building.

I hate this.

Janet crawled toward the door while still lying face down. Even in her hazy state of mind, she thought she needed to get out.

I want to leave, I want to get out.

Reaching the door, Janet stood up using the wall for support and turned the doorknob. But the door wouldn’t open. Her body had no strength, so she clearly couldn’t turn the doorknob properly.

So once more, click.

“……”

Again, again, again. The urgent clicking sound echoed through the storage shed. The door wouldn’t open.

“…Open, please open.”

A small voice escaped from Janet. Unlike her usual monotone voice, it was filled with terror.

But no one answered.

Her mind gradually grew more and more foggy. Each sound of knocking on the door and pulling the doorknob reverberated in her head.

Yes, as Rihanel said, it seems she hadn’t properly reflected during those five years. She wanted to scream that she hated being here. She wanted to throw a tantrum like a child.

Even though there was no one who would indulge her tantrum.

“Someone… haa… please…”

She was out of breath. Wheezing sounds escaped uncontrollably. It felt like someone was binding her body and pulling her down.

The sound of tapping on the door grew fainter and fainter.

Her consciousness grew distant.

And just like that, she collapsed on the spot.

***

‘Janet.’

Open the door, Janet. I know you’re in there. This door…

“Open it, Janet.”

With a voice that burst out, Rihanel opened his eyes. In front of him was not the dark and dreary door of the firmly closed storage shed, but a small, clean room.

Rihanel slowly lowered his trembling eyes.

On the bed was a woman sleeping peacefully.

He reached out and gently, very gently, caressed Janet’s ankle. The woman’s skin touched his hand.

It’s real. What’s here is not an illusion, but the living Janet Wilton.

Only then did Rihanel exhale.

He still couldn’t shake the lingering image of Janet’s back that he couldn’t catch. The empty desolation of that moment when his hand passed through her and wandered through empty space, that sensation so vivid precisely because nothing was touched, tormented him.

So for a while he couldn’t take his hand off her, until he realized he hadn’t finished applying the ointment and moved his body.

When the wet cloth touched the wound on her knee, Janet’s brow furrowed slightly as if feeling the stinging sensation.