But even with an extraordinary mind that forgot nothing, he could not really remember what had happened to Dalia.

The only things he could piece together from his memory were the emerald-green eyes that shimmered as if sprinkled with stardust when they looked at him, and those same eyes, now subdued, exuding only the deep scent of grass after everything had cooled.

“It is an honour to meet you. I am Dalia Gruy.” 

“Will you propose to me?” 

“Gladly.”

“Till death do us part… I promise to be with you forever.”

That voice. It was the vow Dalia had shyly whispered on their wedding day, now fading like a distant echo in a dream. A vow he had dismissed as unimportant. 

“Are you going to be late again today?” 

“It’s an official… event, so we’re going together, right?” 

“The weather is a bit cold today. So I have prepared some tea to keep you warm.” 

“Um, Your Grace. No… never mind.”

Before and after the marriage, he believed that neither his daily life nor his surroundings had changed in the slightest.

The mistress of the Fraser family had arrived, but to him she was merely someone necessary to the running of the household – no more, no less. 

But he was wrong. 

As his only wife, Dalia had seeped into Curtis’ life, leaving an indelible mark before she died. And though Curtis was her only husband, he had let her slip away so easily, so helplessly. 

No matter what thoughts they each carried, no matter if their marriage had begun as a political arrangement, the fact remained – they had indeed been husband and wife.

And so Curtis could not afford to not know Dalia. 

He had to know her – at least half, no, even a quarter, of what she knew about him. Just because political marriages often worked out that way did not mean he could dismiss everything she had done for him as if it had nothing to do with him. 

Sun-kissed golden hair and eyes as fresh as budding leaves scattered into the void. 

Curtis pressed a hand to his chest.

The realisation that had come too late was not a small, harmless thorn – it was a ruthless awl, piercing relentlessly through his heart. 

And through that pain, Curtis was forced to confront a truth he had never fully grasped – perhaps one he had been avoiding all along. 

Dalia was not a stranger. 

She was not someone who had simply passed through, nor was she just another person waiting in place for his command. She could never be a stranger. 

The storm of emotions that followed the loss and regret was enough to shake Curtis to his core.

It was only after he lost Dalia that he realised the weight of her presence beside him – the space she had occupied inside him now left hollow and empty. 

And that emptiness was far greater than he had ever imagined. 

For the first time, Curtis was missing someone – he was missing Dalia. 

With that longing came a creeping suspicion – perhaps the one who had foreseen the tragedy had been Dalia herself. 

* * *

Dalia drove her horse forward at a frantic pace. 

She wanted – no, needed – to get home as soon as possible. Even a second earlier would not be fast enough. 

She longed to reach a place where she could at least feel safe, where she could collect her thoughts. Otherwise she feared she would stagger with dizziness, lose control and start screaming incomprehensibly at the top of her lungs. 

Her mind drifted back to last night’s conversation – the stories Delfion had told her about the past two years. 

“…Things like that have happened. You never really know what life has in store for you.” 

“Delfion.” 

“Yes?”

“Is that all?” 

“Ah, yes… Unless there was something in particular you were waiting to hear? Perhaps news of an acquaintance?” 

Of course there was. She desperately wanted to hear news of Curtis Fraser and Irvelyn Romand.

But the words on the tip of her tongue refused to come out.

Whether he knew she was Dalia Gruy or not, she couldn’t just announce it: I am the former Duchess of Fraser, the one everyone thinks is dead. 

That would be far too foolhardy.

Just as frustration burned hot inside her and fear blurred her vision for a moment, Delfion finally offered her a single drop of what she so desperately craved. 

“Ah, you mentioned staying at the temple in Romand territory, didn’t you? Romand… Well, since you already seem to know of the famous illegitimate child of the Romand family…”

“I heard of her as soon as I left the temple. A graceful and generous young lady, they say.” 

“Hmm. I’ve only heard rumours myself, but it seems the stories are true.” 

At that moment, Dalia’s chest swelled with emotion. 

Yes! That’s it! That’s it! 

This story is true! 

That’s why Curtis fell in love with Irvelyn the moment he saw her!

Dalia tried not to sound impatient as she asked carefully, 

“Pardon? What do you mean by that?” 

“Well, behind the scenes it’s been widely rumoured that the heir of the esteemed Count Diharman family has fallen for this young lady at first sight and has been courting her.” 

But instead of mentioning Curtis, Delfion spoke of another man entirely, his lips curling into a playful smile as if sharing a secret. 

“The… family of Count Diharman?”  

“Yes, a prestigious family known for their role as founders of the kingdom. Their heir, Yoris Diharman, should be of marriageable age by now. And since Count Diharman doesn’t seem to mind the idea, perhaps…” 

“That’s impossible.” 

“Pardon?” 

“No, it’s nothing.” 

Dalia quickly swallowed the firm, almost forceful denial that had unintentionally slipped out. She closed her eyes tightly for a moment before opening them again. 

“Hmm, Dalia? You look really pale. You must be exhausted today.”

Ah, yes, that’s right. Thanks for the story. I’ll pay for this, so take your time eating. I think I need to lie down for a bit.”

“No, there’s no need for that. I haven’t really done anything… But more importantly, you look like you’re about to collapse. Let me help you…”

Dalia tried to stop Delfion from getting up, but she was so exhausted that even raising her hand felt impossible. 

In the end, without sorting out the mess in her head, she just fell asleep. 

And now – back to the present.

“Dalia! Dalia!” 

Dalia, who had been riding as if she had lost her senses, barely managed to turn her head slightly at Delfion’s call as he rode close beside her. 

“We’re almost there. You can slow down now.” 

Delfion’s voice was clear over the sound of the wind against their galloping horses. 

Only then did Dalia straighten her upper body, which had been pressed close to the horse’s neck, and as if understanding her intention, the horse gradually slowed its pace. 

But her face was even paler than the night before and her expression remained stiff. 

And how could it not be?

According to Delfion’s story, all the things she had dismissed as mere possibilities or doubts had turned out to be real. 

There was no article in the newspaper. Of course, Curtis must have blocked it. 

But wouldn’t at least one line of news come out? No, not if Curtis blocked it. 

That vain belief had been completely shattered. 

And in the worst, most extreme way that Dalia had once dismissed as a mere delusion. 

Curtis had not fallen in love with Irvelyn.

Curtis Fraser and Irvelyn Romand had never met. 

Just as Delfion had said he had never seen Irvelyn before. 

Maybe they had met, but hadn’t fallen in love at first sight… 

But him? 

Curtis Fraser, the man who had once acted as if love had made him a completely different person? 

That possibility seemed unlikely. 

So what should she do now? 

No-was there anything to do at all? Did anything need to be done?

Even if the legendary love between Curtis and Irvelyn had never begun, she no longer cared. 

She had stayed in the Temple for two years, constantly worrying about the possibility of being followed. But in the end she had emerged unscathed. 

Two whole years had passed – surely he must have forgotten about his dead wife by now. 

He must have… forgotten, right? 

Even as a ringing sound filled her ears from the shocking news Delfion had told her the night before, she hadn’t missed a single word – especially not Fraser.

“Some say Count Diharman hasn’t intervened in his heir’s misbehaviour because the marriage market has gone completely cold. In truth, it’s not all that surprising – Duke Fraser has never remarried. Since he made it clear that he had no intention of remarrying, even His Majesty has stopped talking about it.”

Why didn’t he marry again?

Delfion’s words may have seemed absurd at first, but if Curtis Fraser’s side remained empty, then it wasn’t entirely unreasonable.

He must know perfectly well that there was nothing to be gained by leaving the Duchess’s seat empty – so why?