Curtis, who had never shown the slightest interest in others, was momentarily affected by her calm demeanour.

“If you have nothing else to say, please leave.”

But why they didn’t show grief or anger at the death of a family member was something even someone with a broad sense of concern couldn’t ask.

In fact, Curtis was a man without an ounce of such concern, so he simply left.

After that, the Duke passed on the Duchess’s duties to the appropriate people and forgot about Dalia. It’s unclear how long this period lasted, but in any case, Dalia Fraser’s absence was of little significance to Curtis during this time.

At some point, however, Curtis’s daily life began to feel out of place. He was now forced to face the fact that there was a huge gap in his life. It wasn’t just that he didn’t like tea.

Everything he touched and saw from the moment he woke in the morning until the moment he fell asleep at night was the same.

The food, the clothes, even the small decorative items that he usually overlooked, now caused him discomfort.

“Has the cook changed?”

“No, there’s been no change. Is there a problem?”

Although it was the same dish, the taste on his tongue was different.

“It is uncomfortable to move.”

“I apologise. Perhaps because the weather is damp, the clothes have absorbed moisture.”

The clothes he had worn regularly since his marriage, which had never caused him any problems before, were now becoming a problem.

One day, as he entered his study, he noticed that the vase, which had often been moved but had never been in the way, was now empty.

Tap-tap.

As his desk and cufflinks collided, a deep crease formed on Curtis’s forehead, revealing a frustration he had never felt before.

“This has never happened before.”

Not only he, but also Dalia had never expected this.

She simply did not want to arouse Curtis’ suspicions, so she carefully arranged his surroundings to suit his tastes, subtly reassuring him that she would never die unless it was by accident.

She acted in a way that showed her deep affection for her husband, avoiding anything that might cause confusion.

However, this carefully planned act by Dalia continued to unsettle his life for two full years after her disappearance.

Like a wound left after a band-aid has been removed, the result of an action may seem insignificant, but it leaves traces that cannot be erased.

For Curtis, his wife was such a presence. When she was around, she was slightly annoying, but soon forgotten as time passed.

Or rather, she was a woman he chose to ignore because she made him uncomfortable. And yet, without him noticing, she left an indelible mark and suddenly disappeared.

These were very small things. As the saying goes, “you know what is missing, not what is there”.

He hadn’t noticed her presence when she was there, but when she was gone, the absence of her touch always grated on his nerves.

Dalia, whom he had forgotten without realising it, slowly began to reappear in his memory, gradually taking on a complete form.

“Dalia. Dalia Fraser.”

His wife, no longer in this world. It was surprising, really, to remember so vividly someone who had already died and could never be seen again.

It was deeply ironic that the only thing Curtis remembered about Dalia was her appearance – the soft waves of her light blonde hair, the green eyes that shimmered like the first signs of spring, her pale skin and slender neck. The faint scent of jasmine that lingered in the air whenever she was near.

In truth, Curtis didn’t hate Dalia, but he didn’t love her either. To him, she was just another face in the crowd, another “other” to pass by in the blur of his own life. He never took the time to really know her. And now, as her memory slowly crept back into his consciousness, Curtis realised with a sharp, painful clarity that he had never known her at all.

It hit him like a cold wave, an overwhelming tide of guilt and grief that threatened to drown him. He had taken her for granted. And for the first time, the emptiness of it all felt real, as if his heart had been hollow all along, filled with nothing but regret.

* * *

“Haa. It’s a perfect day for a walk.”

Two years of being alone.

After two years of talking to herself and mumbling, Dalia’s voice had become a little hoarse, but she didn’t mind. Her steps were lighter than ever.

Today was the day she had been waiting for – the day her long-awaited freedom would finally begin. The weight of her past was lifting, leaving her with a bittersweet sense of relief. She was ready to begin a new life, reborn and unburdened.

After two years in the Temple, no one would remember her as the Duchess of Fraser. Even if she happened to meet someone who recognised her, they would probably take her for someone who had died, and no one would believe that the dead woman was walking around.

Still, it was better to leave no trace. She lowered the robe she was wearing, which covered more than half of her face, and continued on her way.

How long had it been since she had left the temple?

By the time she reached the centre of Count Romand’s territory, various stories were ringing in her ears.

“Hey, have you heard?”

“Ha? What now? If you start talking nonsense again, I’m leaving.”

“Hey, when have I ever talked nonsense?” 

“If you haven’t, it’s pretty rare, huh?” 

“You! Just listen, OK? Wait a minute.” 

A man known for his talkativeness tried to lower his voice subtly, and his friend who had been teasing him leaned in as well. 

“They say the richest man on the continent is missing.” 

“There you go again, more nonsense. Tsk.” 

“No! It’s true! Do you have any idea how much expensive alcohol I had to buy to get this information?” 

There were many other stories floating around, each one amusing Dalia as she listened.

There was talk of local products becoming a hit, someone’s dog giving birth and puppies available for adoption, and more.

After two years of isolation, hearing nothing but the scent of the temple, Dalia felt a rush of excitement.

She decided to buy a newspaper, eager to catch up with the world. After two years of clearing her mind and letting go in the temple, she wasn’t really interested in what was happening outside.

She felt that nothing had changed since before she left.

It didn’t matter if the Duchess of Fraser, a name that had become nothing more than a title, was dead or alive; what was meant to happen would happen.

However, the newspaper she had bought out of curiosity made Dalia’s eyes so wide with shock that they almost popped out of her head.

At first the newspaper turned quietly, but as Dalia’s hands moved faster, the pages began to flutter uncontrollably, making a rough sound with each turn.

 Flap, flap flap flap flap.

But no matter how many newspapers she flipped through, she couldn’t find a single mention of the article she was expecting.

Dalia’s eyes trembled like a small boat in a storm, and her eyelashes fluttered rapidly like the wings of a hummingbird.

She tried to calm herself and searched again, scanning each page carefully, making sure not to miss a single letter. But of course, something that wasn’t there couldn’t suddenly appear.

“It can’t be. This can’t be true!”

Clutching the paper tightly, Dalia turned to the nearby newsboy with an expression of disbelief. “Don’t you have any other newspapers?” 

“Well, I’ve got a few more, but they’re a bit… strange, especially coming from the temple.” 

“Give me one of those, too.” 

She bought several copies of newspapers that weren’t officially approved by the royal family – papers known for spreading rumours and unchecked speculation. 

Flap flap flap flap flap flap flap. 

Dalia scanned the papers in a frenzy. But even after going through the few shabby papers, she couldn’t find any mention of the news she was looking for.

Not a single newspaper mentioned the passionate love story between Curtis Fraser and Irvelyn Romand! 

After Dalia faked her death and disappeared, Curtis was to meet Irvelyn at the next month’s banquet, fall in love with her at first sight, and ignite a fiery pursuit that would consume everything around him. 

News of Duke Fraser, even the smallest detail, would send shockwaves through the realm. But when it came to his burning love, it wasn’t just the Empire that would be stirred – it would set the entire continent ablaze, a fire no one could ignore.

And all the while, Dalia, who had once been his world, was forgotten, replaced by the fierce, undeniable force of his new passion.

It should be…
“Why, why? None?”

Holding the newspapers in her hands, Dalia was momentarily stunned, staggering slightly before quickly regaining her balance.

She sought a quiet place away from the crowd to calm herself, and soon found a surprisingly peaceful park bench. 

“Ha, what’s going on?”

She put a hand to her forehead and let out a deep sigh. The robe was pressing down on her, causing beads of sweat to form on her forehead, making her palm damp, but she didn’t have time to notice. She needed to process the situation she had just confirmed. 

“So you’re telling me there isn’t a single article?”