“Ah, yes. I remember. The groomsman has symbolic meaning, and in truth, it represents Peyton and Ambrose declaring their support for Her Highness, Princess Sylvia—correct?”

However, Ariadne had spent the day poring over books and thinking about their conversation, and she now understood it perfectly.

Contrary to everything Kieron had expected, therefore, surprise flickered across his face when she answered with confidence.

He had been certain that she wouldn’t know.

That she shouldn’t know.

Ignorance had always come naturally to her.

Yet, unexpectedly, Ariadne looked as though she understood everything.

“…I’m glad you remember. Yes. Peyton sides with the princess, of course, and Derayan, who is close to him, is the same. So in that case, the one to stand there for show at this wedding should be Ambrose, shouldn’t it?”

“Um… then will Your Grace be standing with them?”

“She said she’d ask Young Lord Peyton and let me know.”

That was Kieron’s proposal to the princess. They should remove Derayan and use him instead. If they insisted on keeping Ariadne as maid of honor, he should at least stand by her side.

Given how suspicious Jade already was of Derayan, it would make far more sense for him to be there.

He also thought it would make Ariadne more comfortable.

“I see…”

But her expression only grew more uneasy.

“Is there a problem?”

When he saw her reaction, Kieron spoke up, but Ariadne waved her hand hurriedly, insisting that it was nothing. However, she was unaware that this only made her seem more suspicious.

Kieron had never fully dismissed his doubts about her and Jade Derayan. What he had witnessed with his own eyes and the unpleasant feeling he had had from the very beginning told him that there was definitely something there.

Even if it was one-sided, there was undeniably something there. And as her husband, how could that not bother him? Especially as the man responsible for an entire household.

So, when she reacted like that — flustered and evasive — it only served to reinforce his suspicions.

He watched her in silence, the weight of his doubts lingering between them.

“It’s nothing. I only sent Lord Derayan a letter asking for advice about my role as maid of honor… so if the groomsman changes, I was wondering whom I should ask instead.”

She offered a simple and honest explanation, accompanied by an awkward smile. It wasn’t even a proper excuse. Yet she still found herself searching his face, unsure why she was so afraid of his reaction.

Lowering her gaze again, Ariadne suddenly felt foolish. She had studied so hard because she wanted to talk to him. She wanted to understand him — she wanted this marriage to continue, even if only for a little while longer.

That had been her sincere intention.

But now, she felt her confidence slipping away. Confidence in her ability to understand him. Confidence in her ability to accept him.

Even though she had spoken the truth, she felt as if she needed to measure every word against his expression.

Her lips trembled slightly as she bit them, her gaze fixed on the floor.

‘So studying doesn’t change everything after all…’

The thought weighed heavily on her mind. She had believed that if she studied hard enough and became smarter, sharper and more capable, things would finally change. She was certain that she wasn’t the same person she had been the day before.

And yet, she suddenly felt as though she had taken a step backwards, as though she were somehow smaller and lesser than before.

She had thought this was a problem she could solve through study.

Perhaps she had been wrong.

While she wilted under her own discouragement, Kieron’s thoughts were moving in a completely different direction.

Ariadne had changed — if only a little.

There had been a time when he thought she was all talk, so he stopped talking to her altogether. Eventually, she stopped initiating conversations as well.

There had never been any real communication between them, only endless misunderstandings. Every time he tried to resolve one problem, another would arise, and then another.

He was painfully aware of what kind of man he was — a deeply private person ill-suited to living closely with anyone.

When he first agreed to marry her, he genuinely wondered how he was supposed to share his life with a wife.

Of course, after hearing the Marquis’s proposal, all those anxieties had seemed to disappear. But now… she was no longer the same girl he had once known. There were still some misunderstandings, but those could be resolved slowly and steadily.

He had initiated a conversation today, unaware that he was the very reason she had lost all her confidence.

As he watched her suddenly lower her head, he wondered whether it was appropriate to bring it up. Still, it was better than letting the conversation fall apart.

After observing her for a moment, he spoke.

“As for the groomsman, Derrick and Herald have experience with such matters. You can ask them. It doesn’t have to be Young Lord Derayan—you don’t need to worry about that in advance.”

Beyond that, however, there was something more important.

Asking about the groomsman had nothing to do with Jade Derayan. He didn’t want her to get involved with him again. So he brushed the topic aside and moved on.

“There’s a more important matter.”

Ariadne blinked.

“An important matter? Was there something important for us?”

Her expression clearly asked, “What could possibly be so important between us?” Kieron wondered how she would react when she heard what he was about to say.

After prolonging the moment — swallowing his words once, then twice — he slowly began to speak.

“I’m thinking of setting a night for consummation soon. What do you think?”

And he saw her expression freeze on the spot.

***

‘Is he out of his mind?’

That was the first thought that sprang to Ariadne’s mind.

Utter madness!

After all, this was the man who had rejected her on their wedding night without offering an explanation. He had shown her none of the basic courtesy a mistress of the household should receive, leaving her to struggle alone for far too long.

He hadn’t acknowledged her as family. He had ignored every effort she had made to become part of the family. And now he suddenly wanted to consummate the marriage?

“What is your reason?”

Her voice came out far sharper than she intended—so sharp that even she was startled by it. Yet the person who should have taken the blow head-on looked completely unaffected.

“Does a husband and wife need a special reason to consummate their marriage?”

He added that no particular reason was needed, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

In that moment, Ariadne felt an urge to hit someone for the first time in her life. She wanted to slap him, pinch him, bite him, she just wanted to hurt him.

“If it was something that needed no reason, something we were supposed to do regardless… then why haven’t you done anything until now?”

If they had at least consummated their marriage on their wedding night, even just for formality’s sake, things might have turned out differently.

If he had done that much, she wouldn’t have struggled so much to find her place in the household. She wouldn’t have had to endure Lorelei and Franz’s humiliating remarks.

She wouldn’t have spent countless nights alone, agonizing and waiting for a husband who never came home.

She wouldn’t have worked herself to exhaustion, staying up until dawn just for the slightest acknowledgement from him.

Everything would have been so much easier.

“You were the one who neglected your duty first. You were the one who ignored me. And now suddenly you want to consummate the marriage?”

Ariadne felt her breathing become uneven. The anger, disbelief and hurt were all too much for her. Her head swam and her vision blurred. Unable to bear the mounting pressure in her chest, she jumped up.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it, Your Grace. After being dismissed for so long, I’m too small-hearted to suddenly accept talk of consummation.”

Studying, making progress and repairing the relationship, one of it mattered to her now. All she wanted was to escape this place.

To breathe.

To escape.

Just as she turned to leave—

“Wait, wife. What do you mean by that?”

Kieron stopped her.

And his voice, his voice carried irritation.

“‘Pretend you didn’t hear it’? And you claim I neglected my duty?”

When Ariadne turned her head, she saw that his expression was just as bad as hers.

Anger.

Disbelief.

And something that resembled betrayal.

She had no idea why.

After he had hurt her in every possible way — ignoring her, belittling her and abandoning her — how could he possibly act as if he were the wronged party now?

A bitter laugh escaped her.

“It seems Your Grace remembers none of what you did. Shall I list them for you one by one?”

If he had shown her more affection and expressed his feelings earlier, she would have reacted differently. If he had shown her even the slightest hint of concern, things might not have become so complicated.

But now?

He dared to demand the unthinkable from someone who was staying in the marriage out of pity and a sense of responsibility.

If two people wanted their relationship to move forward, didn’t they first need to acknowledge past wrongs?

Talk about what needed to change?

Reflecting on what had hurt the other person?

Yet he was trying to skip all that, leaping straight to the end as if it didn’t matter.

Ariadne felt an overwhelming urge to punch him in the face.

Beneath that anger, something inside her twisted so violently that she wouldn’t have been surprised if she had vomited there and then.

“I don’t understand how what I did then is any different to asking you to consummate our marriage now. Isn’t consummation also your duty as my wife?”

He glared at her with a look that said he genuinely couldn’t fathom why she would refuse such a duty.

“I wasn’t aware that fulfilling one’s duty required digging up the past. Or do you expect me to kneel before you and beg you to consummate our marriage?”

With that final sentence, Ariadne felt every last bit of her patience, every fragile remnant of her affection and every hesitant strand of her hope evaporate.

Completely.

Not a trace remained.