“I had a lovely time today, Duchess. I’ll be the one to invite you next time.”

Thankfully, Princess Lorelei was already stepping out of the door.

Had she enjoyed her time here?

There was no way to tell.

She had a remarkable talent for feigning kindness while secretly draining the life out of everyone around her. Her words were like thorns every time she spoke.

What on earth had brought that walking disaster here?

As Lorelei left, Ariadne lowered herself into a polite bow,  that was when Kieron’s gaze shifted to the woman standing behind the princess.

She had a waist so thin that it could be held in one hand.

Her face was so pale that she looked as though she might collapse at any moment.

What had the servants been doing while she had grown so frail?

Heat flooded his head once more.

Lorelei swept out in her magnificent attire, but behind her, Ariadne suddenly wavered and crumpled to the ground.

“…Tch.”

He rushed forward and managed to keep her from falling, but he had no skill to lift the fragile, curled-up body fully back to its feet.

“Th… thank you… for helping me.”

It was a voice so faint that it could be silenced with a breath.

The figure was so pitiful that even a passing stranger would have frowned with sympathy.

She hadn’t looked this wretched when they first met.

The warmth that he had seen in her eyes in the garden that day had disappeared, replaced by a desperation to escape his presence.

His hand, left empty when she abruptly pulled away and fled, throbbed with irritation.

So he didn’t hold back.

“Kya—!”

He lifted the petite woman, who struggled to climb stairs, straight into his arms.

Despite holding a whole person, the weight against his arm felt lighter than a single dress, which only irritated him further.

What did household duties matter compared to this?

What was that princess compared to this?

With his wife wriggling in his arms, he growled under his breath.

“Stay still. Unless you want to fall.”

“Y-Your Grace…?”

Her whisper scattered like smoke.

She sounded as though she hadn’t imagined it could be him.

Had she thanked an unknown man for his help?

Had she accepted help from someone she didn’t recognize?

Someone with that soft, pitiful expression that would draw the attention of anyone passing by?

Kieron felt anger surge.

It hadn’t stopped since the beginning, ever since their marriage, she had been a constant thorn in his side.

‘All because she was foolish.’

‘Slow.’

‘Frustrating beyond belief.’

“Um… Your Grace. If you could please… put me down now…”

Her fading voice rang clear in his ears, as if she had spoken right beside him. But he only held her more tightly.

“Your Grace, the servants are…”

“It was those d*mn servants who told me to look after my wife. So stop talking and stay still.”

Even the slightest movement from her irritated him.

If he put her down and she collapsed, Derrick would hound him about it.

In fact, the entire household likely would.

He didn’t need to look to know that the servants were looking at her sympathetically.

They adored her, but for her sake they all pretended to be busy and indifferent.

It was nothing.

And yet this foolish woman seemed to be the only one unaware of it.

When he glanced down, he saw that her cheeks were flushed.

Did she have a fever?

She had skipped her meals again; with a body as frail as hers, she was nothing but trouble.

By the time Kieron reached her room, the maids had already hurried forward to open the door and fold back the freshly arranged sheets, preparing the bed for her.

Even in their flustered state, their hands moved with practiced precision, clear evidence that Derrick had chosen them well.

At least he approved of that.

“Call the physician. It seems her fever is rising.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“And bring something suitable for her to eat. Not something light—something proper.”

He lowered her onto the bed—as light as a wisp of fabric—and pulled the blanket over her. Only now did her reddened cheeks confirm she truly had a fever, and irritation surged again.

“I-I’m fine…”

“That’s for the doctor to decide.”

‘Foolish woman.’

What reason was there to insist she was fine when her body was in such a state?

He was just about to leave before frustration could boil over further.

“Y-Your Grace…!”

A tiny hand clutched at his sleeve.

So weak, so small, that he might not have felt it at all if not for that soft voice.

And now his anger rose again.

Why did this woman find a way to grate on him with every little thing she did?

He turned sharply. The force of his gaze made her flinch and curl in on herself, halfway risen from the bed.

Tch. His tongue clicked before he realized it.

“What do you want to say?”

She no longer dared look at his face. She only held his sleeve with those pale fingers, as though she might lose her grip at any moment.

“I-I know you’re b-busy, but… if… if it’s all right… just once a month, even… c-could we have tea… t-together…”

She had clung to him like this the first time they met, too — stammering, trembling, and unable to form words properly.

For a moment, he doubted his own eyes, unsure whether he was seeing something real or an illusion.

He remembered the blue garden and her; her mouth opening and closing silently as she struggled to speak. She was shy, nervous, a little desperate and, perhaps, a little endearing.

But now—

Her voice was nothing like before.

Weaker.

Resigned.

It was so quiet that it seemed as though it might vanish completely.

And it infuriated him.

What had reduced her to this state?

He knew the answer, but refused to acknowledge it.

He could not.

“Once a week. I will send word in the afternoon.”

His voice was cold as he spoke, and he gently pulled his sleeve from her faint grip before hurrying out of the room.

He pretended not to hear the soft, aching thank you behind him. Pretended not to hear that voice—so different from before.

He ignored the reason his temper kept surging.

***

On the night of the princess’s visit, Ariadne fell seriously ill.

Her fever did not break and she never regained consciousness, prompting the Peyton family physician, who had cared for her since childhood, to hurry to the ducal estate.

The duke’s and the marquess’s physicians both reached the same conclusion: her already frail body had been pushed far beyond its limits.

Her childhood nanny, Margaret, and her maid, Jay, kept constant watch at her bedside.

The ducal servants stayed awake through the night, worried, and even those who were off duty lingered around the mansion, anxiously waiting for their lady to open her eyes.

While everyone prayed for her recovery, Kieron paced restlessly around his office, unable to sleep.

Foolish, foolish woman.

What was that princess to her?

What were household duties to her?

If she wasn’t well, she should have looked after herself first.

Derrick had told him that she handled most of the estate’s affairs and took on even the smallest tasks, tending to each one with painstaking care.

Kieron ground his teeth.

He had left her to her own devices, assuming that her timid nature would stop her from achieving much. Yet she had caused a great deal of turmoil.

Just think of the gifts she sent every day!

And her endless invitations to tea or to share a meal — she never wavered, even after repeated rejection.

He should have seen it then.

How deep her patience ran.

Despite her small, fragile body, her resolve was strong.

How much longer did he plan to let that woman shake him?

Grinding his teeth, he fixed his glare on the closed office door — just as a loud crash shattered the silence.

“My lady has awakened!”

Herald’s urgent voice rang out, and through the crack in the door, he could see the servants running around frantically.

In an instant, all the anger boiling through his body vanished without a trace.

In that moment, Kieron understood.

That small woman wasn’t just controlling him.

She was controlling the entire household.

Realizing that made him furious all over again.

***

Ariadne was ill for a whole day.

As dawn broke, she finally stirred, and the doctors confirmed that her fever had broken.

Nevertheless, she slept for many more hours.

It was comforting to have her nanny at her side, holding her hand.

It was reassuring to hear her gently talking about how worried the Peytons had been.

For a moment, Ariadne found herself wanting to lean on her like a child again.

Whenever her thoughts became hazy, she drifted back to sleep.

By the time she fully awoke, it was well past dinnertime and night had fallen.

“The servants were very worried about you, my lady.”

The first person she had asked for when she regained consciousness was Butler Derrick.

He must have suffered the most during her illness, taking on every task she normally handled.

Feeling guilty for burdening him so much, Ariadne offered him a faint smile; her face was still pale.

“Please thank everyone for me. I feel like I recovered quickly thanks to all of you.”

“I shall deliver your message, my lady. Everyone will be delighted to hear it.”

“You must have been busy while I was unconscious, right? I ended up making you take on so much, Derrick.”

“Not at all. It was originally my work, so it wasn’t difficult.”

“Thank you. If it’s all right… could you bring me the orphanage documents I was reading yesterday?”

“…Pardon?”

Before the princess arrived yesterday, she had been reviewing documents about the orphanage in their territory. These documents covered topics such as the number of children living there, the efficiency of operations and the supplies still needed.

She had identified weak points and taken notes on improvements to be made when she left to receive the princess.

At the very least, she wanted to finish that today.

“My lady, His Grace specifically ordered that you should not overexert yourself.”

“It’s not overexertion. I slept all day. And everyone keeps trying to stop me from doing anything… I’m bored.”

Yesterday, she realized something.

Her only strength was her family.

They were a noble family from the capital, with unparalleled wealth and influence. She could rely on their endless resources and connections, even though none of them truly belonged to her.

This was the one thing that preserved her remaining pride.

However, in the presence of the princess — with her lineage, power and wealth — everything that Ariadne had crumbled into nothing.

She was an inexperienced bride with nothing to offer.

And the terrible thought struck her: He might see her the same way.

She felt despair. And urgency.

If she didn’t prove that she was extraordinary and worthy of standing beside him, then…

“It’s really fine. I won’t read for long. I just can’t sit still doing nothing.”

“My lady…”

Shaken by her pleading voice, Derrick eventually gave in — just this once, he said — and took the orphanage files and her draft notes with him.

Margaret, who was looking at her anxiously, left her to it.

But when one thing is examined, two more come to mind.

And when two things are examined, three more become necessary.

The more Margaret reviewed the orphanage’s documents, the more tasks appeared, and the faster the night slipped away.

“My lady, the physician said you shouldn’t overdo it.”

“Hm? Jay, just a moment. I’m almost done.”

“That’s already the fourth time you’ve said that…”

“Sorry. But right now…”

A little more… just a little more…

Time flew by, and before she noticed, the night had grown so late that no lights remained anywhere except her room.

But having slept all day, she wasn’t tired at all—and didn’t feel like sleeping either.

Ariadne gave Jay an apologetic smile as the maid sighed.

“Go ahead and sleep first, Jay. I’ll rest after looking over just a bit more. Maybe because I slept so much today, I don’t feel tired.”

“But my lady, the physician said you must rest for—”

Jay didn’t finish her sentence.

A shout—“Your Grace! Please, no!”—sounded from the hallway, and a moment later her door burst open with a bang.

Startled, Ariadne froze—and then, seeing who entered, she was even more shocked.

“I didn’t expect you to resort to something like this just to get my attention.”

At his icy tone, she could only stand there, rooted to the spot.