That night, Kieron was unable to sleep.

Whenever he closed his eyes, he relived the day’s events, and whenever he dozed off, Ariadne’s face invariably appeared in his mind.

He told himself not to think about her or let anything concerning her distract him.

Yet, whenever she was involved, every shred of his attention drifted in her direction, as if pulled by an invisible thread.

With a click of his tongue, he brought a hand to his forehead in frustration.

None of this had troubled him in the early days of their marriage. He clearly remembered that, no matter what expression she wore, whether she ate well or skipped meals, whether she went out or stayed in, or how she spent her time, he never cared.

It wasn’t even indifference. There had been times when he forgot he had a wife. But recently, everything she did lingered in his thoughts.

Had she eaten?

Was she home?

What expression did she have on her face?

What might she be thinking?

Everything about Ariadne Ambrose tugged at him, refusing to be ignored.

Why?

Was it because she no longer managed the household as she had before?

But it was he who had taken that responsibility away from her. He wasn’t childish enough to resent her for neglecting duties he had taken away from her.

So why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?

Why did she unsettle him so deeply?

He had never attempted to understand his feelings or analyze why he felt the way he did.

Even thinking about such things felt foreign and almost uncomfortable.

He didn’t realize that he was asking himself the same questions he had asked countless times before. He was simply inexperienced, untrained in anything related to emotion.

So, once again, impatience won. Exhaling sharply, he rose from the bed and decided that, since sleep was eluding him, he might as well walk.

If he had ever learned how to reflect on or name his feelings, he would have immediately understood the turmoil twisting inside him now. But he hadn’t, so he stepped into the hallway in a foul mood.

At this hour, everyone had long since gone home or fallen asleep. Only a handful of guards remained on patrol.

The corridor was silent and still; not a hint of life stirred. Only the pale moonlight spilling through the windows kept him company.

Kieron tried to empty his mind as he walked. Down the long corridor. Past the narrow, tightly built staircase. He passed through the small door used by the servants —

— until he finally reached the garden, where the cold night wind brushed against his face.

That was when he froze.

Not far ahead, swaying faintly in the breeze, he saw a head of sunset-colored hair.

***

She had fallen asleep with a clearer mind after reaching her conclusion, so why had she woken up?

Ariadne remembered drinking the chamomile tea that Jay had brought her and falling asleep immediately afterwards.

Her sleep had been peaceful, without a single dream. She’d assumed she would sleep until morning. But the moment she realized that she hadn’t dreamed at all, she opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by darkness.

It was the middle of the night.

“I should sleep.”

Experience told her that if she didn’t fall back asleep quickly, the next day would be difficult. She knew that well, yet sleep refused to return.

Wrapped snugly in her blanket and blinking into the darkness, she eventually pushed herself upright.

Maybe a short walk would help.

Sometimes, just moving around a bit was enough to make her tired again.

So Ariadne draped a shawl over her shoulders and stepped softly out of her room.

When she opened the door, the corridor was completely empty. She was startled by this; she was used to seeing servants moving about, even at this late hour.

But, she supposed, it made sense.

She was never awake at this time. It should be fine to walk around, shouldn’t it?

She would only be wandering around the estate. After hesitating for a moment, she carefully slipped into the hallway and closed the door behind her.

She was wandering through the estate at this time of day for the first time in her life.

Why had she never done so before?

As she walked, Ariadne tried to remember.

Immediately after the wedding, she had stayed indoors in case Kieron turned up unexpectedly. After that, she had always gone to sleep so late that she had never woken up at this time before.

Usually, she was far too exhausted to be awake at this time of night. But this quiet hour, with no one around and only the soft glow of moonlight, felt nice.

It was a little frightening, yes, because the silence was so complete. But there was also a gentle peace to it, a calm that she never felt during the day.

It was almost like being a child again, sneaking off to explore an unfamiliar part of the world. A small spark of excitement fluttered in her chest.

Ariadne walked lightly and almost buoyantly as she headed outside.

Guessing that the main entrance would be locked, she made her way to the servants’ door, which fortunately opened.

She pushed it open and stepped outside.

A cool, crisp breeze swept across her skin.

She had always admired sunsets, but had never before thought to step outside and breathe in the night air.

This was partly because her family had been endlessly worried about her health, and she had tried to be careful — always careful — for their sake.

Now that she thought about it, what did the sunsets at the duchy even look like?

Searching through her memory, Ariadne realized something startling.

Since her marriage, she had never actually watched a single sunset.

Every evening, she had been busy either waiting for Kieron, managing the household, or forcing herself to hold the pieces of her heart together after another quiet rejection.

In the process, she had completely overlooked the one thing she had once loved most.

A small, hollow laugh escaped her lips, a fragile sound filled with resignation.

Back home, sunsets had been her daily source of comfort. The one gentle moment she could always rely on.

So why was everything different here?

Before the marriage, even the smallest comfort would ease her heart. But after the marriage, something had changed so drastically.

Why hadn’t she sought out that simple solace again instead of enduring her pain alone?

Ariadne lifted her eyes to the starry sky and felt a quiet ache settle over her. Regret washed through her for all the moments she had lost without realizing it.

Why had she lived like that?

Why had she taken on every misfortune alone, as if they were her own?

With the benefit of hindsight, she realized there must have been better ways to deal with those situations.

Ariadne suddenly realized just how comfortably and safely she had lived until now and how much her family had protected and sheltered her before her marriage.

Because of that, she had clung to things that hadn’t actually been problems at all, worrying herself sick over matters that should have been as easy to deal with as breathing.

She recognized her own immaturity. She regretted her foolish expectations and baseless dreams, and the way she had wandered through her days like someone trapped inside a fairy tale, unable to see reality.

Perhaps Kieron, in his own way, had been struggling too. After all, he had been forced to deal with someone as sheltered and naïve as a greenhouse flower, someone who had approached him full of expectations and demands.

Could she face him now without expecting anything at all?

She thought about it, but she still couldn’t find an answer. She was trying to make sense of her feelings, but you can’t simply choose to let emotions disappear. That was why she had been so shaken and hurt earlier.

Thinking back to what had happened during the day, Ariadne let out a quiet, self-mocking sigh.

She almost laughed at herself for believing that he had wronged her simply because she was hurt, regardless of his intentions.

She had told herself that she had let her heart go, but she hadn’t.

Not truly.

More of it remained intact than she had managed to cast aside.

She still had expectations.

She still hoped.

How could she abandon those completely without burdening him or breaking herself in the process? How could she learn to rely only on trust and familiarity, which develop slowly over time?

She realized that love was not always as beautiful as an Orpheo Sonnet. If it were, she wouldn’t be struggling like this. Maybe a love that endured every hardship and sorrow didn’t exist anywhere in the world.

And yet, if there was anything she could do now, maybe she shouldn’t call it love at all, but trust.

A love that had once burned and died would not easily flare to life again without deliberate, steady effort.

Lost in these thoughts, she stared blankly at the night sky and suddenly heard a voice.

“Why are you out at this hour?”

A familiar voice. A voice that, at this time of night, should never have been speaking to her.

For a moment, Ariadne thought she was hearing things, because there was no other explanation.

“Did you fall asleep standing up?”

But when that voice spoke again, she had no choice but to turn her head in shock.

“Your Grace?”

“Why are you so startled?”

Well, because she had never expected to see him here.

Ariadne swallowed the words rising in her throat and forced an awkward smile.

“I didn’t think anyone would be here at this hour.”

“That goes for me as well. I didn’t think you would come out this far.”

As Kieron’s gaze swept up and down, taking in her attire, his brows suddenly knit together. He clearly didn’t like the fact that she was wandering around out here at this hour.

Before he could say anything more, Ariadne hurried to speak first.

“I couldn’t sleep. I was just about to go back inside.”

“I see.”

“Yes. Your Grace should rest soon as well. I’ll head in first.”

‘Don’t linger here.’

‘Don’t face him any longer.’

Ariadne repeated these words silently to herself as she said her quick farewell. Although she couldn’t sleep yet, returning to her room was the right thing to do.

It would be easier for him, too.

She had just begun to walk away when she heard him ask.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

He said something so abrupt that it halted her in her tracks.