No. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that the man she called her husband would not only seek a divorce, but would go so far as to force widowhood upon her.

At the time, holding on must have seemed the only natural choice.

However, Dalia’s brow furrowed as she remembered her past self, like a racehorse with blinders on, seeing only what she wanted to see. Then, without hesitation, she pulled out the invitation she had been looking for.

‘If the Countess of Lapir attends, she’ll be more than enough to fuel the rumours.’

Dalia pressed a throbbing temple as she sat in her office. She had pushed herself to the limit in her role as Duchess Fraser, Curtis’s wife, striving for perfection to the point of self-inflicted exhaustion. Now, just sitting in that chair made her stomach churn and her head hurt.

Ignoring the familiar pain, she quickly examined the invitation in her hand.

‘A simple tea party?’

Impossible. The Countess of Lapir was one of the three most notorious gossips in the Empire’s social circles. There was no way this was going to be a humble event.

Before her return to the past, Dalia had never attended a gathering hosted by the Countess of Lapir.

But no more. Now Dalia desperately needed the Countess of Lapir’s loose tongue.

If she was to ensure that no one discovered her true intentions, she would have to hide behind a lie that resembled the truth.

Escape through death.

That simple premise had to be so thoroughly concealed that not even heaven and earth would know about it – only then could she finally break free of Curtis.

Even if there was no trace left of the love she once had for him, she had to pretend that there was. No, more than just pretend, she had to make sure that love was broadcast far and wide for all to see.

Hadn’t they said that if three people claimed a cow existed, even a lie would eventually make it real?

What Dalia needed was an uncontrollable, persistent rumour that would spread from mouth to mouth, one that would never go away.

What Dalia needed was a rumour that would spread from mouth to mouth – one that was unstoppable and would never die.

‘The Duchess would never die or leave of her own accord, no matter what happened to the Duke.’

A lie that had to be accepted as truth.

It was just one of the tools she needed to overcome the towering obstacle known as Curtis Fraser.

A way to ensure that no one would ever suspect that the Duchess, once so devoted to love, could have faked her own death and escaped.

Before her return to the past, the rumour had been circulating quietly beneath the surface.

‘There was not a woman who had not once been captivated by Curtis, yet his own wife – a pitiful Duchess – was left to love him alone, unable even to convey her feelings.’

The thought of this rumour spreading like wildfire was terrifying, which was why she had avoided high society events. But now she had no choice but to publicly confirm it herself. It really was a ridiculous situation.

The only silver lining was that she wouldn’t have to attend many dull and unremarkable social functions. It didn’t take long for the story of the Duchess’s desperate unrequited love to spread, a story so simple that even a passing dog could have picked it up.

It was, after all, a rumour about Curtis Fraser. Even those who weren’t interested in rumours couldn’t help but perk up at the mere mention of his name, so spreading the rumour wouldn’t be difficult at all.

Pulling the bell rope, Dalia summoned her maid and gave the order.

“Send a reply to the Countess of Lapir.”

In the game of escaping Curtis Fraser’s grip, there was one card that Dalia absolutely had to have. The first card was to do exactly what a Duchess who loved him deeply would do, just as she had done before her return to the past. The second card was to spread this image far and wide for all to see.

She smiled gracefully as she gently waved the invitation, the second card she would use.

***

The Imperial Palace. In the heart of the Empire, Curtis listened to his advisor’s report with an indifferent expression on his face. In fact, he listened to it while lost in his own thoughts.

“…This is how we will proceed, my Duke.”

Curtis, only half paying attention to his advisor’s words, gestured with his eyes without asking any further questions. It was just a matter of confirming something that was going to be done anyway, so there was no need to ask again.

“I’ll pick you up before the meeting.”

After the advisor mentioned the vassals’ meeting scheduled for that evening and bowed deeply before leaving, Curtis was left alone.

As usual, however, he didn’t look at the documents. Instead, he slowly leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lazily on the armrest.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

In sync with the regular sound echoing around the empty room, his thoughts whirled around in his head, turning like gears. Something felt wrong.

It was as if an ant had burrowed into one side of his brain and had been nagging him ever since he left the mansion. Something had been bothering him all along.

Curtis slowly retraced the events of the day. It hadn’t taken long as nothing special had happened from the morning until now.

After leaving the mansion and arriving at the palace, the most memorable event had been handing over the documents he had been working on until late last night to His Majesty the Emperor, and finally getting away from the grumbling.

One of Curtis’ eyebrows raised in scepticism. If nothing had happened, then where did this uneasiness he felt come from?

He didn’t trust his instincts too much, but he didn’t underestimate them enough to ignore them. To find the cause, he carefully traced the events of the past.

How much time had passed?

Tap. Tap, tap, tap.

As the tapping of his fingertips accelerated, the sceptically raised eyebrow began to twitch.

He had finally found the point that had been bothering him.

Dalia Fraser. His wife.

The woman who had always greeted him, whether she was fully recovered or not. Her painted smile, her graceful gestures and the soft voice calling after him from behind as he left.

There hadn’t been anything different about her, or so it seemed.

Was it because of what happened last night?

But how could someone who was perfectly fine just vanish into thin air? Even after that, hadn’t she seemed perfectly fine when she left?

It must have been the alcohol he had consumed too quickly, distorting his vision for a moment.

He tried to rationalise, to convince himself, but for some reason she kept gnawing at the corner of Curtis’ mind, like a ragged piece of a broken nail.

“Her eyes.”

Finally, the source of his discomfort slipped out of his mouth.

Dalia’s smile remained the same, but he couldn’t find anything in her dull, greenish eyes.

Yes. There was nothing in Dalia’s eyes.

The fingers that had been tapping on the armrest suddenly stopped.

There hadn’t been anything particularly memorable in the last few days, but why did she seem so empty?

Curtis knew, of course, of Dalia’s quiet but passionate love for him. He wasn’t stupid enough not to see the love in her eyes. That much was certain. But that was all.

The looks of others who looked at him always carried emotions similar to hers, and he had become so accustomed to receiving such looks.

Dalia’s love was hers, and Curtis never gave it much thought. It wasn’t strange to hope for love in a political marriage, but it was equally common for such hopes to go unfulfilled, and it wasn’t even part of their marital duties. It was meant to be.

But something that had been there had suddenly disappeared.

Of course, he had only noticed that something that had once existed was now gone, but that didn’t mean that Curtis felt any regret or anger about it.

So he picked up the pen he had put down and grabbed the nearest document. But his pen didn’t move again. His thoughts had become confused.

Why had Dalia’s once bright eyes suddenly ‘disappeared’ without warning?

If there had been some understandable reason, he might have understood, but everything had changed so suddenly, as if the world itself had been turned upside down. It was as if there had never been any love or desire. 

This realisation and confusion he felt were things Dalia had never even noticed. No, she couldn’t have noticed.

The very thought that Curtis Fraser might have taken an interest in the turmoil within Dalia’s family was something she could never understand.

Even as she faced him, her thoughts were completely consumed by what her own feelings might become.

So even when Dalia faced him, she didn’t hide who she really was. She was sure it didn’t matter. Her goal was for everyone but him to see her as she loved him before she returned to the past. 

Now something unexpected happened – something neither Dalia nor Curtis had expected.

Curtis, the man, was now deeply focused on thoughts of Dalia. 

Although Dalia’s attitude towards him hadn’t changed, it all started with one thing: her eyes.