Even more…

“If you’re busy, you don’t have to join me. You’re the Duke, after all.”

She had even given him an elegant smile, assuring him that she wasn’t forcing him. There was no need to add anything to that. There should have been.

Ah, had she mentioned going to bed early tonight?

“Just bring something simple to fill my stomach.”

After the brief exchange, Curtis turned his gaze back to the documents, his mind having long since erased any trace of Dalia.

“You may all leave now.”

Even after dismissing his assistants, Curtis’s pen continued to move without pause.

As the bright moon cut through the cold winter air, Curtis finally put down his pen and straightened his unwavering posture.

“Huuh.”

He swallowed the strong whisky in one gulp, the burning liquid searing his throat, before glancing down at the thick stack of documents.

It wasn’t really necessary to stay up late just to finish the documents, but it was better to get it over with now than to listen to His Majesty’s complaints again tomorrow.

Click.

Having finished his work later than usual, he stepped out of his office and walked through the Duke’s quiet mansion, now shrouded in darkness.

The path to his bedroom was neither too far nor too close, and since he had spent his entire life in this mansion, there was no chance of getting lost. As always, his footsteps were steady and unwavering.

If he went straight to his bedroom and went to bed at the usual time, today would end like any other day – except that he would miss his nightly reading before bed.

Were it not for the sound of someone’s carefree footsteps reaching his ears.

Someone walking so carelessly in the area of the Duke’s office and bedroom?

Having never encountered anyone at this hour before, Curtis came to a stop.

It wasn’t as if he wanted to give her a stern talking-to or a cold warning.

Something unusual had happened and he just had to check it out.

That was all.

If this had been the usual Curtis Fraser, he wouldn’t have paid much attention, regardless of whether anything unusual was happening.

But for some reason, at that very moment, he was making a decision that was uncharacteristic of him – something even he was unaware of.

Step, step.

Soon, the sound of steady footsteps echoed through the dim corridor, and from around the corner emerged a figure – someone he had not expected.

Of course, he had assumed it would be a maid or servant working the night shift.

Curtis frowned.

“My Lady?”

Whether she hadn’t heard him or had simply chosen not to answer, the delicate, flowing hem of her thin, soft dress shimmered white in the dim light and disappeared like a ghost beyond the corridor.

Didn’t she say she was ill?

He wasn’t interested in others, but he wasn’t stupid enough to forget what he’d heard.

Curtis remembered Dalia’s movements throughout the day.

From dawn to dusk she had stayed in her room and not once had he crossed her path.

Since they had been married, she had always seen him off in the morning. But since she was unwell, it was understandable that her behaviour was different today.

Now that he had confirmed her identity, he should have simply returned to his bedroom.

But before he noticed, Curtis was following her.

Perhaps because of the dim lighting, Dalia didn’t notice him and kept walking calmly.

How many steps had they taken?

When Dalia suddenly stopped, Curtis stopped as well.

Only then did he realise that he had been following her silently the whole time. His eyebrows, already furrowed, furrowed even deeper.

‘Why am I doing this?’

But the thought was fleeting.

Bathed in the moonlight streaming through the large window, Dalia’s figure shimmered with an almost ethereal glow – so pale that she seemed to emanate a faint bluish light.

Was it the lingering scent of the liquor he had swallowed in one gulp, still burning faintly at the root of his tongue?

Contrary to her usual neat appearance, her golden hair cascaded freely down her back and rippled at her waist. Through the thin fabric of her négligée, the faint outline of her rounded shoulders was visible – all too clearly.

And below them, the soft curves that followed…

Curtis’s sharp jaw tensed unconsciously, as if it could cut through steel.

Unlike Dalia, who was bathed in moonlight, he remained in shadow. Just as a deep ripple began to move in his gaze –

Dalia, who had stood still like a pillar of salt, suddenly thrust her pale, slender arm forward.

‘What on earth is she trying to do?’

With Curtis watching from behind, all he could make out was the sound of her struggling.

Then, as his gaze followed the direction of Dalia’s, his lips, pressed together in a tight line, parted slightly as a small breath escaped.

‘Was she really just trying to open that window?’

Admittedly, it was quite large – perhaps too heavy for her thin arms to easily push open.

‘Should I step in?’

Just as the thought crossed his mind, a cold breeze brushed against his cheek.

The well-maintained windows of the Fraser mansion swung open smoothly, without so much as a creak.

Having missed the moment to intervene, Curtis instead took a step back and watched her in silence.

Even after all the effort she had put into opening the window, she did nothing.

She just stood there, staring endlessly at the night sky.

She was so still that he wondered if she was even breathing.

An inexplicable feeling of unease crept up on him, prompting Curtis to take another step closer.

Just then, a long sigh slipped softly into his ears.

“Haa.”

As Dalia’s faint breath filled the crisp night air, Curtis found himself closing his eyes deeply before opening them again.

‘Just now… something…’

The moment his eyelids lifted, Dalia had already turned her back to the cold night sky and begun to move.

One step.

Then another.

He wasn’t sure if she was returning to her room, but Dalia moved slowly away, retracing her steps – her movements so light they were barely perceptible.

But Curtis stayed where he was. He did not speak, nor did he follow her.

Just as Dalia had done earlier, he stood as if rooted to the spot.

‘What exactly was that just now?’

He kept his gaze fixed on the spot where she had lingered until the sound of her footsteps faded away completely.

Curtis slowly closed his eyes before opening them again.

As Dalia exhaled into the cold night air, it was as if she had momentarily melted away and vanished.

And when she was gone, only the eerie glow of the moon remained, casting a veil of light over the now empty, silent corridor.

***

The hazy dawn was pushed away and the early spring morning arrived, the air still cold enough to see your breath.

Dalia watched through the mirror as her maid carefully brushed her hair, then slowly raised her hand.

“That’s enough.”

The maid stepped back immediately and Dalia studied her reflection.

Golden hair gleaming in the morning sunlight, fair skin, delicate and refined features, and impeccably manicured fingertips – by all appearances, the perfect image of a noble lady.

Except for one thing.

Her eyes were utterly lifeless.

The Gruy family’s green eyes, once as fresh and vibrant as spring foliage, were now twisted and resembled a labyrinthine and eerie garden with no end in sight.

She brushed a hand over the corner of her eye before rising from her seat.

It was time to face him.

How would it feel to meet him for the first time since her return from death?

This question had lingered in her mind since the night of her return.

Would it hurt? Would she be afraid? Would she be angry?

Or…

Could she fall in love with him again?

Honestly, calling it stupid wouldn’t even begin to cover it.

Fall in love with the man who had killed her?

It wasn’t as if she had a taste for suffering. But if seeing Curtis’ face made her heart race again, then that would be the most absurd and twisted preference that ever existed in this world.

No, even if she had such a taste, loving the man who had killed her would be… how could she even put it…?

‘I must be out of my mind.’

Then again, hadn’t they said that love was only complete when it drove you mad?

Even though she was absolutely certain that all the love in her was long gone, she still couldn’t predict how she would feel when she finally faced him.

That was why she had pretended to be ill – to buy herself some time, to collect her thoughts, to avoid seeing him for at least a day.

And yet, even after spending an entire night searching for an answer, she had found none. Frustrated, she had gone for an impromptu late night walk.

It hadn’t helped, of course.

After standing in front of the door for a while, Dalia finally tightened her grip on the doorknob.

There was really no way to know how she would feel without facing him directly.

As long as she didn’t suddenly lash out and try to kill him, or collapse on the floor in terror, she should be able to cope.

After all, she had been killed by the man she loved with all her heart – how much worse could it get?

As she dredged up the horrors of her past – or rather the future she would never allow to happen again – a bitter smile tugged at her lips.

And yet, on the surface, she remained the dazzlingly elegant Duchess of Fraser, glittering like a priceless jewel.

“My Lady.”

“Sebastian.”

After exchanging a polite greeting with the head butler, Dalia forced herself to turn towards Curtis, trying not to appear unnatural.

But at that moment, she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze.