Kieron returned shortly after Ariadne arrived back at the estate.

Having seen her carriage on the road, he had taken a deliberate detour and instructed the coachman to stop somewhere out of sight.

He had no idea how he was supposed to explain things if they crossed paths while still on the road.

Truth be told, he had been following her.

She would have every right to be upset if she found out.

Although he didn’t think he had done anything wrong, there was no need to invite an unnecessary argument.

Still, it wasn’t as though he intended to hide it forever.

If Ariadne asked him where he had gone or why he had pretended not to see her when their eyes met through the carriage windows, he could answer without hesitation.

He didn’t consider it a real problem.

He simply wanted to avoid needless trouble.

After waiting a while, he instructed the coachman to return to the estate through the back gate rather than the main one.

By now, Ariadne would surely be in her room, but caution never hurt anyone.

He and Derrick stepped down near the back entrance, dismissed the coachman, and slipped quietly into the mansion, checking their surroundings as they went.

“I’ll head straight to the office from here.”

“Then I’ll change clothes first and join you shortly.”

They parted ways halfway through.

If Ariadne had recognized him earlier, she would have seen Derrick standing beside him. It was better not to risk running into her while he was wearing anything other than his butler’s uniform.

If Kieron encountered her alone on his way to the office, he would have at least a plausible excuse. However, being seen with Derrick in mismatched clothing would be far harder to explain.

Even as he climbed the stairs, he stayed on high alert, repeatedly checking that no one was nearby.

Just as he finally reached the door to his office—

“You’re back?”

A voice from behind startled him completely.

***

Ariadne had been watching him ever since he started climbing the stairs.

Several servants had claimed not to know where their master had gone, which seemed suspicious to her.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that the man she’d seen in the passing carriage earlier might have been him. But if it was him, what did it matter?

She didn’t have an answer to that.

She was simply curious.

All she wanted was to confirm whether the person she’d exchanged a fleeting glance with had truly been him.

Even if he had been, she had no intention of asking him where he had been or why. None of that was particularly important to her.

He had gone out for his own reasons, and she for hers. Besides, it wasn’t as if he would ever go anywhere because of her.

So, when her husband returned looking like someone who had just come in from outside, Ariadne didn’t question him.

She simply greeted him softly and asked if he had come back safely.

Whether he genuinely hadn’t noticed her standing there or her presence took him by surprise, Kieron’s usually indifferent—or irritated—expression faltered for a moment.

“What brings you here, Duchess?”

“I was just… walking.”

“Inside the house?”

“It was too cold to walk outside.”

Their conversation was extremely dry, purely functional.

Kieron frowned once at her explanation, then turned his head away.

“If possible, don’t come here. There are many documents you shouldn’t see, even as the duchess.”

“Is there anything in this estate I could know, anyway?”

Essentially, he was telling her that she could wander wherever she liked in the mansion, as long as she stayed away from this floor.

To Ariadne, this remark felt oddly out of place. There was hardly anything in the house that she was allowed to know about or get involved in. Even if there were things she wasn’t meant to see, she didn’t care.

She was just about to reassure him when Kieron suddenly turned back towards her, his expression tightening with irritation.

“Are you picking a fight right now?”

“Me? I only meant that since I don’t know anything, you don’t need to bother explaining.”

Was she looking for a fight?

What part of what she said could have been interpreted that way?

Ah.

Was he annoyed because he had taken away even her smallest duty? Or because he had made her a duchess in name only?

Either way, it wasn’t something Kieron needed to worry about. All he had to do was carry on as he always had, ignoring her and concerning himself only with the affairs of the house.

This made things easier for Ariadne.

Having once considered divorce, she was almost relieved that she held no real authority here.

If she had had responsibilities within the household, the weight of them would have made leaving impossible to imagine.

Now, however, even if she divorced him someday, she would have nothing to take with her but herself.

This situation, in which she stood entirely alone, was — strangely and unexpectedly — convenient.

There was nothing to regret.

Nothing bound her here.

With an unreadable expression, Ariadne lowered her head.

“Then I’ll be going. Please rest well.”

She was just about to turn and leave after offering the brief farewell when Kieron, watching her retreating figure, spoke.

“Stop right there.”

His tone was firm enough to make her stop instinctively.

What now?

She turned her head slightly as she stopped, thinking only of that.

Any excitement — or even just a hint of anticipation — that she might once have felt when he called out to her and wanted to talk to her had long since disappeared.

If this had happened before that disastrous teatime, she might have worked herself up, creating her own expectations and yearning for something. But now, she was simply grateful that she still had the faintest glimmer of emotion left.

So even now, her heart barely moved.

Ariadne tilted her head and looked at him as though she genuinely didn’t understand the problem.

“Do you have something to say?”

Whatever it was, it would surely amount to nothing. Or it would be something trivial that he wanted to scold her for — something she would never understand anyway.

Her voice was flat when she asked, and Kieron frowned again. It was almost impressive how he managed to look irritated every single time.

Seeing her husband, who seemed to dislike her very existence, Ariadne forced her feelings even deeper down, burying them where he couldn’t reach them.

It was better to keep it hidden.

Allowing it to rise would only lead to more pain. She didn’t want to be hurt anymore, whether by his words, actions, or thoughtless expressions.

It was a waste of emotion.

Soon, with the thought of divorce lingering at the edge of her mind, she would need her strength for far more important things.

So, as she forced every fragile, creeping feeling back down…

“…Where did you go today?”

“Yes, of course… wait—what?”

She had genuinely expected something insignificant. Probably a warning not to wander near the study or linger in the corridors, or some other trivial remark.

She had been prepared to nod absently and agree with whatever he said, letting his words wash over her. But then, belatedly, she realized what he had actually asked.

It looked like a simple question, but it was anything but.

The moment she understood it, the emotions she had been suppressing escaped.

She froze, stunned that Kieron Ambrose of all people was asking her such an ordinary question, the kind that normal people ask.

“I asked where you went. You said you wouldn’t visit the marquisate today, so it wasn’t there. I wondered if you went out somewhere.”

Shockingly, he used a tone that she had never heard from him before. In fact, objectively, it wasn’t all that different from his usual voice.

But to Ariadne, it felt different.

He knew she hadn’t gone to the Peyton estate.

He simply asked if she had gone out for a walk.

Nothing dramatic.

There was no need to be startled. Yet the emotions she had managed to keep buried began to rise again — slowly, faintly and almost painfully.

It was a simple, everyday question. It was asked by someone who never usually asked her anything, never usually looked at her or came near her.

And it wasn’t asked in his usual commanding tone, but in something gentler.

What was she supposed to make of this?

Confused, her vision wavered and she opened her mouth, stammering.

“Uh—well… I went to Retinga with Jay. It’s not a fancy restaurant, but there’s a place there that’s surprisingly good.”

Her voice trembled as she explained that she had taken Jay out to change the scenery. Perhaps he hadn’t noticed, but she certainly had.

As she continued, carefully omitting any mention of her meeting with Princess Sylvia, Heidel and Jade, she realized something else.

Kieron was listening.

In fact, he was listening far more closely than she had ever expected.

‘Why? Why is he listening so closely? This is nothing. Why is he paying attention to this?’

To be honest, Kieron was letting her words drift in one ear and out the other. He was only listening in the hope that the information he wanted would materialize.

He didn’t want anything complicated. All he wanted to know was who she had met and what they had talked about.

That was all.

He concealed the true reason for his interest with excuses, telling himself that he merely needed to confirm what she had discussed with the Peytons, the Derayans, and the princess, and whether she had arranged to meet any of them again.

If anything threatened the ducal house, he would reprimand her — that was his justification.

Just then, Ariadne finished her explanation and looked at him, bewildered.

“Why are you suddenly asking something like this?”

Kieron was so focused on listening out for what he wanted to hear that he hadn’t anticipated the question at all.