The next day, Ariadne was completely bedridden, having suffered from indigestion all night after eating dinner the previous evening.

Despite having only eaten a simple salad, the discomfort, oppressive atmosphere and unexplainable emotional pressure, as well as the guilt she dared not speak of, had all compounded to make her feel far worse.

Unable to fight the nausea and heaviness that had set in that morning, she eventually collapsed onto the bed.

“Do not let her eat anything except soup today.”

Brown, one of the few people in the mansion who genuinely cared for Ariadne, gave Jay strict instructions to ensure that she took her medication after eating.

He also reminded Jay to let Ariadne rest as much as possible.

“With nausea this severe, it’s better if she sleeps. Make sure she takes her medicine, and if she feels like vomiting, tell her not to force it down. It’s better to spit it out.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Jay listened intently while Ariadne closed her eyes.

She didn’t have time to lie around like this.

She needed to act soon: carry out her plan and leave the mansion.

The longer she stayed, the more Kieron would hate her.

Yesterday, he had avoided her gaze throughout the meal, as if meeting her eyes was unbearable.

Whenever she looked up, he looked down, and whenever he happened to look up, she looked away in surprise.

Then he immediately looked away, too.

A heavy silence descended upon them, accompanied by his frown and curt tone.

He was expressing his displeasure far too clearly.

“Jay, water, please…”

Her faint voice cut through the room, and Jay—who had been speaking with Brown—turned at once. Brown said something else to Jay, but Ariadne was too exhausted to understand.

“Just a moment, my lady.”

When Brown finally left, Jay gently lifted Ariadne and brought a cup to her lips.

“It’s water with lime. He said plain water might taste unpleasant right now.”

Jay explained kindly as Ariadne tasted the faint citrus.

Then she poured some liquid medicine into her mouth, followed by more lime water.

Ariadne swallowed with difficulty and lay back down to think. But lime or not, it made little difference to her.

Her stomach still hurt, and her throat was sore from vomiting all morning. The soup that she had barely managed to swallow before Brown arrived churned uneasily inside her.

“I’ll sleep a little…”

“Yes, my lady. Rest well.”

As she closed her eyes again, Kieron from the night before came back to her mind.

From the first day of their marriage until now, he had shown nothing but cold hostility.

Why… why did he hate her so much?

As she drifted slowly into sleep, that single question remained in her thoughts.

***

“My lady is unwell.”

With Derrick’s brief report, the atmosphere in the office immediately sank. Both Derrick and Herald turned their eyes toward Kieron at the same time, each gaze silently asking what on earth had happened during last night’s dinner.

Kieron merely paused his quill.

“Brown will be making a fuss again.”

A single cold remark.

Derrick let out a quiet sigh and Herald shook his head.

Just last night, when he left the office for dinner, his master had looked unusually pleased.

However, after the duchess had left the dining room, his mood had plummeted and, by morning, it was as if his presence had darkened the entire mansion.

What is wrong with our master?

Exchanging wordless glances, Derrick and Herald looked back at Kieron.

“Brown believes it’s indigestion.”

“I see.”

“It seems last night’s dinner didn’t sit well with her.”

The butler’s tone clearly urged Kieron to explain what had happened, but he remained silent. In fact, he had no idea what he was supposed to say.

He had simply spoken to her as he always did. He had only asked why she was going out so often and suggested that she spend more time at home.

Yet last night, her eyes — which always shimmered with quiet expectation and which she tried so hard to hide — held no light at all.

Her cheeks, which once flushed at the slightest provocation, remained pale and expressionless.

He was the one filled with questions.

What exactly had gone wrong?

She was the one who had asked to dine with him, and he had agreed. It was later than she would have liked, but he had still made time for her.

The same had been true of their tea time. Despite being busy, he had arranged it and even sent someone to coordinate the next meeting, but she hadn’t shown up.

Yesterday, he spoke to her in the same way he always did.

He asked his usual questions, but she responded with information he hadn’t asked for, looking flustered and confused.

And worst of all—

— she had recoiled the moment she saw him.

As if he were someone she should never have encountered there.

Why?

Hadn’t she been desperate to see him all this time?

Whenever he returned from an inspection or an outing, the first thing he heard was that she had been looking for him. But recently, she hadn’t sought him out even once.

In fact, she behaved as if she didn’t care whether he was home or not.

As if he were someone she needed to avoid.

She flinched at the sight of him, as though he were a ghost.

After sharing a single dinner with him, she had become so ill that she was bedridden the following morning.

Kieron thought: Why is that woman so maddening?

When he first heard that she supposedly liked him so much that it made her ill, he even felt a tiny trace of pity for her.

Compassion, perhaps. Something along those lines.

But now—

At that moment, he could only feel irritation.

She was grating on his nerves, disrupting his thoughts and occupying his mind to the point of anger.

These emotions stemmed less from Ariadne herself and more from his own inability to understand his feelings, as well as the unreasonable conditions that Marquis Peyton had imposed on the marriage.

Instead, Kieron could only conclude that it was all her fault.

This was precisely why he had never wanted to marry in the first place.

How was Ariadne any different from Lorelei, who had clung to him desperately, exhausting him with her tangled emotions?

After a brief pause, Kieron lowered his gaze back to the documents on his desk.

“Brown can handle it.”

That was what he had paid the doctor for, after all.

He came to that decision after thinking it through.

All Ariadne needed to do was exist. All she had to do was remain by his side to secure Peyton’s support and fulfil the terms of the marriage.

He stopped paying attention. He wouldn’t keep looking at her. He wouldn’t try to fix whatever it was about her that irritated him.

Eventually, she would become nothing more than a quiet ornament, a doll that always stayed in the same place.

Not knowing who Ariadne truly was, Kieron allowed himself to believe that.

He had no idea how deeply she thought, how vividly she felt, or how her mind endlessly spun through possibilities.

***

By the time the sky turned the soft colors of evening, Ariadne had finally regained her senses. She had spent the entire day drifting in and out of sleep.

When she slept, she felt and thought nothing.

When she woke, she was greeted by Jay’s desperate pleas for her to swallow a few spoonfuls of soup, as well as by the twisting pain in her stomach which was getting worse by the minute.

After such a strangely long and disjointed day, she realized that her body finally felt a little better.

“You’re awake, my lady?”

As Ariadne pushed herself up, Jay — who had been by her side the whole time — quickly helped her sit up.

Although her strength hadn’t fully returned after lying in bed for so long, she felt much better.

Ariadne gave Jay a small, grateful smile.

“Yes, I feel much better. Thank you, Jay.”

“Are you really alright now?”

“Yes. Far better than this morning. I feel like eating something other than soup.”

Her voice was still a little hoarse as she spoke, and Jay’s eyes grew wet. It had been a long time since she’d been this ill, no wonder Jay had been frightened.

Still smiling, Ariadne reached out and gently patted her shoulder.

“Thank you. And I’m sorry. You’re always the one who has to work so hard.”

“P-please don’t say that, my lady. I’m doing this because I want to…”

Jay sniffled, then cleared her throat, trying to steady herself. She carefully brushed back Ariadne’s sweat-damp hair and spoke kindly.

“For today, you still need to be gentle on your stomach, so I’ll bring soup again. But I’ll ask the kitchen for a thicker one—your favorite corn cream soup instead of something watery. Will that be alright?”

“Yes. I’d like that. Thank you.”

Ariadne smiled at Jay’s gentle suggestion.

Watching her, Jay poured her a glass of water, placed it in her hand, then rose from her seat.

“Please drink some water and rest for a moment, my lady. I’ll be right back.”

“Alright, Jay. Take your time.”

Jay kept glancing back as she left, clearly reluctant to be left alone with Ariadne.

Each time, Ariadne smiled and waved, reassuring Jay that she was fine.

It was only a short walk to the kitchen, and they were still inside the mansion.

What danger could possibly befall her there?

‘I really must have frightened her today,’ she thought as she slowly finished the glass of water.

Only then did her surroundings begin to come back into focus: the washcloth and basin Jay had prepared, the medicine bottles, the pitcher of lime-infused water and the cup, the candlestick waiting to be used once night fell.

And beside them—

“…What’s that?”

Tucked inside the usually empty vase was a bouquet of her favorite flowers, as though Jay had picked them especially for her.

Soft, sunset-colored daisies.

Setting down her cup, Ariadne walked over to the vase.

She hadn’t even noticed Jay leaving earlier. When had she slipped out to the garden?

Leaning forward, she inhaled the bright, fresh fragrance.

Among the warm orange petals were white and pale yellow daisies, a bouquet that must have looked beautiful when it was first picked.

‘I should give her a small gift later,’ she thought, touched by the gesture.

Just then, something on the table caught her eye.

Beside the vase was an envelope, her name written clearly across it.

[To Rene.]