It was difficult to say that Yoris’s actions constituted active persecution, but they were certainly different from how he had treated any other woman before. 

Anyone who knew him – even a little – or had observed him over time could not ignore the fact that Yoris Diharman had fallen in love with Count Romand’s illegitimate child.

Of course, Curtis was also aware of this.

To him, it was just information – something as neutral and unimportant as noticing that it’s raining today. Still, given the ties between their families, it was a matter worth acknowledging. 

“I’ve tried to talk to him about it before, but he wouldn’t even pretend to listen.”

Count Diharman admitted, his expression taut with frustration. His face flushed slightly as he exhaled, subtly lowering his head towards Curtis. 

“So I’m asking you – please meet with Yoris. If you say a few words to him, maybe he’ll see something.” 

Curtis remained unreadable, his gaze fixed. 

“Do you really think that will happen?”

“No, it’s no lie that Yoris has his eye on you, Duke. A single word from you would have far more impact than a hundred from me.”

Count Diharman said, his eyes filled with sincerity. 

Curtis studied him for a moment before giving a simple nod. There was no need to point out that a successor who was easily swayed by the words of others would inevitably struggle in the future. 

“Thank you. That reassures me.”

Count Diharman breathed a small sigh of relief and smiled faintly as he quickly finished his now cold tea. Having successfully achieved his goal, he decided to steer the conversation in a different direction. 

“Hey, by the way, Duke, are you still not planning on getting married?” 

Although he had intended to ask the question lightly, his naturally blunt nature led him to say it outright.

No, he had meant to ask it casually, but his naturally direct nature – one that always focused forward without much regard to his surroundings – made him ask the question bluntly. 

And just like that, a question that had lingered in everyone’s minds but had never been spoken aloud in Curtis’ presence was now asked without hesitation. 

The reason why Count Diharman could ask so freely was simple: he had no personal interest in Curtis’s remarriage. 

Of course, on closer examination there were always political interests to be considered.

But at least Count Diharman had no ulterior motive – he wasn’t trying to offer his daughter, nor was he trying to position a relative or distant cousin at Curtis’s side.

“Remarriage, huh?”

That’s why Curtis didn’t immediately refuse or react strongly – he simply accepted Count Diharman’s words with calm composure. 

“It’s been almost two years, hasn’t it? It was an unfortunate accident, but the living must move on. If you think this is just the ramblings of an old man, that’s fine… but I hope you’ll consider it seriously this time.”

Count Diharman spoke, tapping lightly at the lines around his eyes, his tone calm yet firm. Curtis, however, remained silent. 

With a slight chuckle, the Count added.

“You know, with everyone waiting to follow in the Duke’s footsteps, no one in the entire empire has dared to hold a wedding. It’s been two years without one.”

Although he was joking, there wasn’t the slightest exaggeration in his words.

The sudden death of Duchess Fraser had left Curtis’s seat vacant, causing unexpected complications in noble marriage arrangements across the Empire. Among the families listed in the Imperial Register, alliances had come to a standstill. 

Even Yoris, who had received more than five offers of marriage, found that all potential matches had been put on hold since that time two years ago. 

For this reason, Curtis had largely overlooked Yoris’s growing interest in Count Romand’s illegitimate child – it hadn’t seemed urgent compared to the larger issues at play. 

However, once Yoris had met with Duke Fraser and regained clarity, he would no longer delay his own marriage and would move forward without hesitation. For this to happen, Duke Fraser’s remarriage was crucial. 

But Count Diharman didn’t press the matter. He knew that the opportunity to discuss remarriage would only come once. 

Instead, he simply stood up and said,

“Then I hope you can help Yoris.” 

Curtis, however, had little expectation that the meeting with Yoris would be meaningful. With his keen intuition, he had already pieced together the true purpose behind Yoris’s request. 

It wasn’t Yoris who needed this meeting. 

It was Count Romand’s illegitimate child who needed help.

Yoris should be advised to wait and think carefully before inheriting the Count title.. 

Count Diharman was well aware of this truth – but he chose to ignore it, at least for now. 

Curtis, however, saw through it immediately. He remained silent, his gaze following the count’s departing carriage. 

And just like that, in the very next moment, all thoughts of meeting Yoris disappeared from Curtis’s mind.

It no longer mattered what Yoris had to say – he would never win Curtis’s approval. 

As a result, Irvelyn’s grand plan – her careful scheme to use Yoris as a bridge to Curtis – collapsed instantly. Instead of achieving her goal, she had unwittingly caused an even greater setback: 

The timing of Yoris’s inheritance of the Count’s title of Diharman has now been delayed indefinitely.

Because of this incident, Dalia found herself caught in the crossfire – completely unaware. 

For now, it was just a small spark, but if left unchecked, it could ignite into a fire powerful enough to consume her entirely. 

And the reason? Curtis had now decided to get to know Dalia. 

“An unfortunate accident… an accident…” 

Those were the words Count Diharman had casually used to describe the incident two years ago. 

‘Dalia.’ 

The woman who had been poisoned-all because she hadn’t known that some things should never be mixed. 

Curtis leaned back on the sofa, sinking deep into the cushions, his long legs crossing effortlessly. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

His fingers drummed against the armrest in a slow, deliberate rhythm. 

It was all so simple. A clearer and far less complicated accident than one might expect. 

A woman he visited often. 

The same woman who always made his tea – the same tea that had never been a problem before.

And even Alois, who had somehow become involved. 

The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a perfectly constructed story.

It felt like a story carefully written and pieced together, every detail deliberately placed. 

But something about it felt wrong.

Curtis remembered the unfamiliar carriage he’d seen that day – the one brought by a woman who didn’t even deserve to be called a lady. Her very presence had felt like an insult to those who truly embodied the title. 

Thinking back, he realised that before this woman arrived, Dalia had never invited anyone else to visit the Fraser estate. 

Didn’t Dalia have any close friends?

Surely someone at the wedding must have been close to her. 

It wasn’t just a matter of identifying who her friends were – but whether she had any at all. 

And this realisation made Curtis question everything. 

Wasn’t there something strange about the circumstances in which he had met the woman involved in the crime? 

Was any of this really in keeping with Dalia’s usual behaviour?

‘No… what was Dalia really like back then?’

As the questions mounted, Curtis felt an unsettling sense of déjà vu.

Yes. 

That very feeling. 

The unease, the lingering doubts – they were the same as when he had met Dalia a year before her death. 

If only, instead of turning away in discomfort, he had examined her then…

What would have happened? 

Regret always comes too late. 

And even for Curtis Fraser,

his regret had come far too late. 

Dalia was no longer in this world. 

So even if he uncovered the truth of that day – or any truth – it wouldn’t change anything. 

It shouldn’t change anything. 

Logically, there was no point in pursuing questions without answers.

It was already too late. 

And yet, though he did not understand his own impulse, Curtis made a decision. 

From that moment on, Dalia had become an exception in his life.

“Sebastian.”

“You called, sir?”

“Let’s talk about Dalia. From the moment she entered this mansion until the day she died, tell me everything she said, everything she did, or anything else you know.”

***

After Count Diharman’s visit, Yoris wasted no time in seeking out Duke Fraser. 

“I’m glad to finally meet you.”

Yoris said, unable to hide the excitement in his voice as he faced Curtis. 

But Curtis gave only a slight nod, his expression unreadable.

“Please, have a seat.” 

“Yes. First of all, I would like to apologise. My eagerness to meet you has caused me to trouble you over the past few months…”

“Count Diharman has already mentioned it. There’s no need to dwell on it.” 

Curtis gestured towards the sofa and Yoris took a seat, unconsciously mirroring the same posture his father had taken earlier. 

There was a brief silence before Yoris, unable to fully hide his frustration, began to speak – his tone carrying a hint of irritation.

“I don’t want to take up much of your time, but there are some things I wanted to tell you in person. I thought it would be better to speak to you directly – writing a letter could have led to misunderstandings…” 

As Yoris continued to speak, Curtis barely listened. Instead, he watched the young man carefully, noting every subtle expression and movement. 

It was unclear how much of Count Diharman’s words were true, but one thing was clear – Yoris’s gaze held both admiration and a faint sense of competition. 

It was a natural reaction for someone of his age, someone striving to establish himself in the world. 

At the very least, his outward demeanour seemed composed.