“Young Master Jade Derayan has come to see Madam.”

The meal had already been an unpleasant experience for Kieron. He had invited her to join him for dinner, yet he hadn’t said a word.

At least he could have made some trivial small talk, as he usually did, or explained why he had arranged this lunch and disrupted his own schedule.

But he had done neither. Instead, she had watched him anxiously throughout the meal.

And then?

“Ah. I have an engagement this afternoon… It must be about that.”

An engagement in the afternoon with an unmarried young man, no less.

Kieron felt his already foul mood curdle sharply.

“A married woman with a husband, what reason do you have to meet an unmarried young man?”

He furrowed his brow and shot her a cold, cutting look.

‘How dare she.’

Had she truly invited another man into this house?

But he failed to notice how violently she had begun trembling across the table. Derrick, however, noticed immediately and discreetly touched his master’s arm in warning.

“Tell him to return, Derrick. Her Ladyship cannot leave right now.”

Kieron was too irritated to notice anything else.

No—he might have even been a little angry.

He had carved out this time from the middle of an impossible workload—and she had intended to use it for someone else?

If the Council of Elders, who were already desperate to catch him in the smallest mistake, learned of this,
they would certainly use it to attack his legitimacy.

And she dared to call another man to this house, knowing all that?

“He’s—he’s a friend!”

Unaware of Kieron’s thoughts, the foolish young wife blurted out that impossible word—friend—
her face utterly desperate.

“We—we’ve been close since childhood. Our families were friendly, and my brothers know him well. Perhaps you don’t remember him because he rarely attends social gatherings, but everyone in society knows—”

“And so?”

“……Pardon?”

Ariadne’s bloodless face was drawn tight with panic.

Like that day when Princess Lorelei had visited, she tried desperately to explain—as the mistress of the house, she had to do her duty. With her husband absent so often, she mustn’t allow anything that could stain the family’s reputation.

But what stung Kieron unbearably was this: She was trying so hard, for another man.

“Am I supposed to listen to excuses like that? Or should I summon your brothers and ask them myself whether this ‘friendship’ is real?”

Why?

It was a question that had been troubling him for some time.

Why had she stopped caring about him?

When had she stopped paying attention to him?

She had promised to support him until he reclaimed his rightful authority, so why was she now unwilling to fulfil her duties as duchess?

Surprisingly and absurdly, all of these questions began to fit together in a way that made far too much sense.

Right now.

Here, in this very moment.

“Did you not consider how people would see it? You and I have never once gone out together, never once appeared at a social gathering together, and suddenly another man appears at your side. You truly didn’t think everyone would start whispering?”

With every word he spoke, Ariadne’s face grew paler. When she had collapsed that day, he had thought a person’s face couldn’t turn any whiter than that.

But now—

Now she looked even worse, like someone who might die at any moment, completely drained of color. And for some reason, that bothered Kieron in yet another way.

“The Council refuses to acknowledge me because I have no heir. If you cause a scandal, what do you think they’ll do next?”

He sneered.

“Perhaps they’ll claim that even the child you eventually bear won’t be mine.”

Hearing those sharp, mocking, poisonous words, Ariadne crumbled to the ground. Seeing that she could barely stand, Derrick rushed forward in alarm. Kieron, however, felt nothing but irritation.

She had started this, yet now she was playing the innocent victim, acting as though she had done nothing wrong.

It was contemptible.

He was about to get up and leave when—

“…You never did.”

“What?”

“Your Grace, you have never once granted a single request of mine!”

The Ariadne who had looked moments away from collapsing now cried out, still half-supported by Derrick, her face contorted in raw, unbearable pain.

***

He knew nothing.

This was the only thought in her mind as he hurled accusations at her.

He knew nothing.

He had no idea how long she had lived in darkness after marrying him.

He had no idea how hard she had tried to connect with him.

He had no idea how many things she had wanted to do for him.

He knew nothing.

She already knew that the Council would only acknowledge him if they appeared united. Her mother had warned her that the Council was notoriously difficult.

Ambrose’s council, which had held ducal authority for so long, would use any means necessary to maintain it.

So she had tried.

She had tried to become closer to him, even though part of that desire came from her own longing to see him and be loved by him.

She couldn’t deny that. But she tried anyway.

It was not her who rejected every effort.

It was Kieron Ambrose.

That man.

He had treated her like an inconvenience, brushing her off every single time. He even told the servants to say he wasn’t home. He ignored her birthday and their anniversary. Even at imperial banquets, where married couples were expected to appear together, he acted as if she weren’t there.

And now he dared to throw accusations at her?

It wasn’t fair.
It was absurd.

Ariadne felt everything she had endured finally burst.

“…You never did.”

“What?”

“Your Grace, you have never once granted a single request of mine!”

The resentment she had bottled up for so long finally exploded in the form of a scream.

She had believed that he was her destiny.

She had loved him. But to him, she had been a burden in every way.

In fact, he disliked her.

He never granted her even the smallest wish. He showed her nothing but irritation. And now, only now, did he dare to speak as though he had the right?

“I could never go out with you because you ignored every request I made. The same goes for the social gatherings. I couldn’t attend any of them.”

Once she started speaking, everything she had kept inside for years poured out all at once, like a dam finally breaking.

He had always been indifferent to her.

Unless she fainted or fell ill, he never even looked in her direction.

So why now?

Why pretend to care now?

“I couldn’t even attend the imperial banquet, where married couples were expected to appear together. You refused to go with me. When I tried to help with the estate’s affairs, hoping to be of use in any way I could, you told me to stop.”

The one who had dismissed every effort was none other than her husband.

Kieron Ambrose.

Ariadne leaned on Derrick’s supporting arm and rose to her feet.

“You told me to do nothing and to live as though I hardly existed. Now you’re interfering with what I want to do? Is it because you want to forbid me again once you lose interest?”

Her words tore out of her sharper than she had intended; they stung her as much as they stung him. But Kieron didn’t so much as flinch when he heard them.

No pain.

No hurt.

Nothing.

And that made her furious.

“If this is how it’s going to be, then just divorce me! Our marriage only happened because of an agreement between you and my father. It wasn’t for my sake, but for Ambrose — for your sake.”

She had never wanted him to suffer. Above all else, that had always been true.

But right now, she wanted him to feel it, too.

Just once.

Just for this moment.

“So if I’m such a burden, then let me go. To you, I’m nothing more than the political advantage my family offered.”

Of all the issues the Council could exploit, marriage was the most vulnerable.

A strained marriage.

Years without a child.

And divorce.

Ariadne knew that these were the things the Council would condemn most fiercely and that they could wound him most deeply as head of the household.

“You’re asking for a divorce…?”

When she saw his expression contort into something frightening, a chill crawled up her spine — but beneath that fear, a sharp, fleeting sense of satisfaction flickered.

She knew that nothing mattered more to him than reclaiming the full authority of House Ambrose. Even the suggestion of divorce posed an unbearable threat.

But the satisfaction vanished quickly, so quickly that she barely recognized it had been there at all.

“Yes, please divorce me. There are plenty of women eager to marry you. You can choose someone from a family favored by the Council. Then she won’t irritate you the way I do.”

Ariadne added the last words quietly, her voice edged with bitterness.

But the more she spoke, the more pain she felt, because with every word, she was the one who was hurting.

The mere thought of another woman standing beside him, of him divorcing her and taking someone else’s hand, of the child that might one day be born between them, made her tremble even more.

“Then it will be easier for Your Grace to gain the Council’s approval, and the matter of an heir that troubles you will be solved as well. Since that woman won’t be me.”

As long as it wasn’t her — as long as the person standing at his side wasn’t Ariadne Peyton — then he would be able to overcome every obstacle in his path.

She believed that with all her heart. And with that same sincerity, she wished it would never come true.

Her whole body shook and her eyes filled with tears, yet the words continued to fall from her lips, sharp and unyielding.

She had spoken first because she wanted to hurt him, but she hadn’t realized that her words would cut her even more deeply.

“So… let’s stop now. Let’s stop hurting each other any further.”

At last, the tears that had gathered spilled over, streaming down her cheeks.