Her dinner with him wasn’t as uncomfortable as sitting on a bed of thorns, but it wasn’t as comfortable as eating alone either, so Dalia was already feeling uncomfortable.

“Then I will take my leave.”

As Dalia watched Sebastian’s straight back as he walked away with calm steps, her mouth tasted bitter.

Sebastian often looked at her with a look of concern. Of course, it was a disrespectful look for a servant, but as the head butler who had guarded the ducal family for generations, he held a position that even the family elders respected, so she found it rather reassuring.

” My Lady, if you overexert yourself, you will surely be exhausted.”

One evening before the regression, when Dalia had waited endlessly for Curtis to return, Sebastian had placed a warm brandy with honey in front of her and said this quietly.

How had she reacted then?

She must have waited stubbornly until late into the night.

In truth, she hadn’t expected him to come here.

But she didn’t want to protest or demonstrate while chasing after Irvelyn, or wander outside.

She just couldn’t leave.

With her chest torn apart and her insides burning with pain, she was forced to chew on the harsh reality before her, to think about it over and over again, like a rotting tree nailed to the ground by its roots.

Dalia pressed herself to her chest. A thousand years of love for Curtis had cooled and turned to ashes, but the memories would not go away.

When she thought of him, her heart didn’t stir, but when she looked back at the pathetic and foolish version of herself from those days, she couldn’t help but feel sorrow.

Dalia covered her eyes with both hands, then wiped her face and washed up. Yes. It was that day the following year.

As a couple bound by a political marriage, she could have spent her whole life with him, and perhaps, after many years, he would have come to care for her. It was a foolish hope that was shattered that very night.

The moon festival. A night to honour the biggest moon of the year and to bless the year that had passed.

It was one of the national events hosted by the Imperial Family, where a massive moon appeared as if it was about to fall to earth, and a grand banquet was held that night.

Following the New Year celebrations, it was also an event that the Duke and Duchess of Fraser had to attend as part of their duties.

For Dalia, and not only for Dalia, but also for Curtis, it was a night they would never forget.

A past that would never return and a future that would never come – Irvelyn made her first appearance at the Moon Festival the following year.

Some say the moon has the power to drive people mad. Perhaps that was the reason.

That night… 

“I am Irvelyn Romand.” 

When she appeared in the Imperial Palace Garden, now transformed into a grand banquet hall, the men – some of the most distinguished in the Empire – were instantly enchanted by her, as if under a spell. 

So why did Curtis fall in love with Irvelyn at first sight? 

Perhaps it wasn’t the innocent magic of the moon; perhaps it was simply their destiny. 

Isn’t love as unpredictable as life itself? 

Even when you try to understand it, you can’t. Even if you try to explain it, you can’t. 

It’s like a natural disaster – something that sweeps you away without warning.

Before everything was reset, Dalia, blind and deaf to love, was full of self-doubt. 

“Curtis? Curtis, what’s happening? Why are you… looking at her like that?” 

It was an instinct common to people in love. No, it was more accurate to say that he was looking at her because he loved her. 

The undeniable truth that Curtis Fraser – the very Curtis she knew – was falling in love. A truth she couldn’t accept. 

That night, Dalia’s unrequited love became eternal. She knew it was pointless to regret the past, but she couldn’t help repeating the things she wished she could undo.

Even though she had managed to avoid repeating those mistakes, her past self was still crying in the same place. She couldn’t wipe away the grief, the tears that fell silently. 

She couldn’t wipe them away, and part of her didn’t want to. 

Dalia closed her eyes and breathed deeply. 

It was a night when, as a child, countless stars – not the moon – had shone brightly. Her mother had taken her in her arms and spoken softly to her. 

“What do you do when you’re down? My dear, it’s very simple. Just think of the things that make you happy!”

The gentle smile and lively voice seemed to seep into her ears, and Dalia slowly began to think of the good things.

She began to list the things she wanted to do when everything was over – the loss of her husband and the quiet life in the convent.

In spring, she would forget about the Moon Festival at the palace and instead wrap herself in freshly dried blankets, rest lazily with a cat, bask in the sunlight and doze off.

In summer, instead of holidaying in a cold palace, she would rather dip her feet in a running stream and read.

In autumn, instead of worrying about preparing for the National Foundation Day celebrations, she would pick apples and bake pies that smelled sweet and she would be incredibly happy to take a big bite of.

And in winter, she would no longer wait for a man who paid no attention to her, nor endure the cold wind at a great hunt.

Instead, she would sit by a warm fire, knitting a shawl, drinking hot milk mixed with brandy, and that would be true paradise, a place where the gods lived.

Dalia didn’t notice that her lips had parted in a slight smile.

One by one, she imagined perfect happiness and prepared herself for the upcoming Moon Festival and the dinner with Curtis that would be even sooner.

***

“You’ve arrived.”

“Yes. How was your day?”

“There was nothing special.”

It was an extremely mundane conversation for a couple sitting around a table, but it was a common occurrence in the Fraser household.

Soon the quiet dinner began.

Dalia swallowed a soft sigh and plunged her fork into the perfectly cooked asparagus in front of her. She couldn’t relax during dinner with Curtis for fear that if she thought of anything else, she’d pretend he wasn’t there.

‘Let’s just do it like before.’

Dalia repeated to herself, and when their eyes met briefly, she froze.

‘Why is he looking at me?’

But their eyes only met for a moment.

But since their eyes only met for a moment, Dalia thought she must have been mistaken and continued to pick at the roasted tomato with her fork.

She wasn’t particularly interested in food and usually ate just to survive, so her mouth felt even drier, perhaps because of the unexpected dinner with him.

As a result, she barely touched her food, though she tried to look elegant as she ate.

After struggling to swallow the tomato, she was about to plunge her fork into the basil leaf when a deep voice came close to her ear.

“If the food isn’t to your liking, I can have something else prepared.”

Turning her head automatically, Dalia was startled by the lavender eyes staring back at her, and for a moment she forgot that she was supposed to act delighted.

“My lady?”

“It’s… okay. I must have been a bit full from the snacks earlier.”

Forcing her lips to move, Dalia gave a plausible answer, trying to hide her embarrassment by lowering her head.

It wasn’t that Curtis had never spoken to her before, so it wasn’t entirely surprising, but what he said was the problem. Since when had he cared about her plate?

It seemed that the look she’d felt earlier wasn’t just her imagination. Spending time with him had always been a chore, but now it had become uncomfortable.

In fact, Curtis had been watching Dalia for much longer than she realised.

Curtis knew that Dalia would occasionally glance at him, but Dalia had no idea that Curtis was watching her.

As he smiled, his eyes moved and Dalia quickly lowered her head, her pale cheeks covered by her flowing golden hair.

Seeing this, Curtis looked away but his movements slowed noticeably. The same awkwardness. The same questions.

So Curtis withdrew his gaze, but the movement of his utensils became noticeably slower.

The same unease. The same questions.

What could Dalia Fraser, his only wife, be thinking?

There were always people around him who blurted out their opinions and wishes without being asked, others who discussed plans that were guaranteed to benefit them, and others who sang of their longing for him.

There were, of course, many with double faces, but the shallow pretences, schemes and actions of these people never worked on Curtis. Dalia Fraser, however, became the first exception.