“Aren’t you going to ask me anything?” 

“Pardon?” 

“I mean the Ackman Trading Company. I belong to that trade, don’t I?” 

“Ah, yes…” 

She hadn’t expected Delfion to bring it up first. 

Was he trying to gauge whether she knew his true identity? 

It felt like she was overthinking it, but since they both had secrets, even small details like that became subtly unsettling. 

It would be best to extract just enough information and part with him quickly in Gruy territory. 

After all, even if she did return home, it wasn’t as if she was going to actively engage in any outside activities or throw a party to celebrate her grand comeback.

Dalia chose her words carefully. 

“That may be true for you, Delfion, but not for me. I’m not invested in the trading company, nor do I have any connections with its leader… I’m not the kind of person to ask about the company’s affairs out of sheer curiosity.” 

Her calm and perfectly reasonable reply made Delfion’s slightly drooping eyes widen as he smiled. 

“I see.” 

At his straightforward reaction, Dalia half dismissed her initial suspicions. 

Even if he had been testing her, her answer had been so textbook perfect that it could be included in an Academy curriculum. 

Still, a lingering sense of unease remained, so Dalia decided to steer the conversation in a completely different direction. 

“While we’re on the topic – as an employee of the Ackman Trading Company, you must have a better grasp of current affairs than anyone else, don’t you?” 

Delfion burst out laughing and readily agreed.

“Of course. If Ackman doesn’t understand the world, who does?” 

If he really was just an employee, he must have been very proud of his position.

But …….

The words of the man who was Ackman himself could only be the truth.

Feeling a mixture of anticipation and unease at the prospect of hearing a story about the capital – one that never made it into the papers, especially about Curtis and Irvelyn – Dalia spoke up. 

“Could you tell me the story then?” 

“Of course. There are some interesting stories, hmm…”

Hiding her true thoughts – that she didn’t need an interesting story, just the necessary information – Dalia tightened her grip on the reins. 

The two of them rode at a more leisurely pace than before, finally arriving at the village where they would rest for the night. Before Dalia could broach the subject again, Delfion spoke first. 

“I can’t say that I have any particularly fascinating stories, but I can at least tell you some important news from the Empire.” 

No particularly fascinating stories…? 

Wait, what? 

If the Duke of Fraser had become so infatuated with a count’s illegitimate child that he was willing to devote his entire being to it, wouldn’t the whole Empire find that story absolutely fascinating?

There was a faint sense of foreboding at the beginning of Delfion’s words, but Dalia refused to give up hope. 

“Then I’ll listen carefully.” 

That evening, as she sat down to a hearty meal and listened to Delfion unravel his bundle of stories, Dalia found herself utterly speechless. The sneering voice of *surely not* sneered at the back of her mind before hitting her with a resounding blow of reality. 

* * * 

“Is this everything?” 

“Yes. I brought everything as you ordered.” 

Without the slightest trace of doubt, the assistant carefully placed the pile of documents – over two years old – in front of Curtis.

The cause of death and accident details of the former Duchess of Fraser.

As he stared at the large, bold letters on the cover of the document, he knew instantly – today’s workday was over. 

And just as he expected, Curtis quietly dismissed his assistant. 

“You may leave for the day.” 

“Yes, I’ll take my leave.” 

As the office door opened and the cold air from outside swept through the room, Curtis just stood there, looking down at the slightly worn pile of documents. 

Since he had decided to investigate Dalia, he had listened to the accounts of everyone on the estate who had come into contact with her, with Sebastian leading the investigation.

“Her work always went smoothly and there were never any problems.” 

“She always dealt fairly and efficiently with any problems within the estate or the family, so many people relied on her.” 

Without exception, they all described Dalia as a highly competent and generous Duchess. 

“She always put the Duke first. The way she personally looked after everything was truly loving.” 

In addition, they said.

“She loved the Duke very much.”

Of course, speaking openly about her master’s feelings was a bold act, but as it was in the context of remembering someone who had died, Curtis chose not to reprimand her for her impropriety. 

Having gathered all available information on Dalia from within the ducal household, Curtis then turned his attention outwards. 

However, as Dalia had rarely set foot outside the Duchy after her marriage, except on official occasions, there was little outside information to be found. 

She had exchanged only occasional letters with the friends she had been close to before her marriage. 

“She never invited guests to the estate.” 

“Yes. Because you said you didn’t welcome outsiders.”

“So you’re saying she never invited her friends because I didn’t welcome outsiders?” 

“That’s right.” 

He had never said anything like that. 

No – even if she had frequently invited friends and thrown lavish parties, he probably wouldn’t have cared. 

The Fraser family’s wealth was not so fragile that it would waver just because she indulged in extravagant and opulent gatherings. There had been no reason for him to concern himself with such matters. 

And yet Dalia had never even attempted to do anything he might not like.

For some reason, that fact scraped sharply across the frozen edges of Curtis’s heart – only now, long after the fact. 

He had always known how she felt. 

Anyone who wasn’t blind or a fool would have known. 

But Curtis had never realised how different it was to know something and to feel it. 

The witch who was supposed to be Irvelyn’s godmother had only been half right. 

A man born without feelings did not recognise his first stirrings of emotion as unfamiliar. Instead, he found them uncomfortable – and chose to ignore them.

Without realising it, the curiosity and questions about Dalia that had built up over time had risen to the back of his throat. And now, finally, Curtis was swept away by the overwhelming tide. 

Feelings for someone always begin with curiosity – then grow through interest, doubt and a desire for confirmation. 

Through interaction with the other person, these feelings can either fade or deepen, gradually revealing their true nature and meaning. 

But in Curtis’ case, there was no Dalia. 

She was gone. 

More than that, this was the first time Curtis had ever really experienced emotion.

He had no one to rein him in, nor did he realise that he needed to. Like a horse with blinders on, he ran, driven by the unbearable weight of Dalia. 

Rustle.

While she had been at his side, he had known nothing. 

Only now, after losing her, did he begin to understand. 

His hands trembled as he leafed through the thin stack of documents detailing her death. Minutes to read – yet every word deeply etched. 

Tap. Then another tap. 

His fingers stopped. 

“…Too much.” 

Her absence. 

His ignorance. 

And now the weight of knowing it was crushing him.

The more Curtis dug into Dalia’s accident, the more uneasy he became. 

There was no way that everything could have gone so perfectly. 

An accident, by definition, was something unpredictable – something that defied logic. 

Yet Dalia’s so-called accident was like a meticulously designed mechanism, with every element falling into place at exactly the right time and place. 

Why, of all days, had Alois ended up in that carriage? 

Its colour and smell were indistinguishable from sugar, and it had no taste – she wouldn’t have noticed. 

Why had Alois been in her office that day?

Dalia had always personally inspected every single item used in the Duchy. 

Why, then, had she gone so far as to invite that woman into her home and establish a relationship with her? 

Before her true nature was revealed, that woman had been a highly respected lady in high society. 

Why had she offered Dalia this particular tea? 

As Curtis searched for answers, a hoarse, broken voice echoed in his mind – the desperate cries of a woman being dragged away. 

“I-It wasn’t me! It wasn’t me who offered her the tea! It was the Duchess who offered it first! I drank it without even knowing what it was!”

In an instant, suspicion replaced mere doubt. 

It was said that accidents caused by human hands – so-called man-made disasters – were always predictable. 

Dalia’s accident had also been a man-made tragedy. 

And if it had been predictable? 

If the responsibility for the accident didn’t lie with the woman who had already been erased from the Empire – then who did? 

As the thought took hold, Curtis’ pupils dilated, expanding like those of a predator stalking its prey in the dark. 

If this was really the case… 

He was being pulled back into the past. 

Back to when Dalia was still around.