Kieron couldn’t understand what had gone wrong.

When he asked if she expected him to kneel and beg her to consummate the marriage, Ariadne’s expression froze instantly.

She looked at him with a gaze that rejected anything he might say, a gaze that refused to hear another word. Then she turned and walked out.

The look in her eyes made it clear that she never wanted to hear his voice again. And so he was left alone.

Not even in his own room.

“Ah… Your Grace. You were here.”

‘Where did my lady go?’

Jay entered, clearly expecting to find Ariadne there. But when she saw Kieron instead, she blinked in surprise, feeling uncertain and awkward.

Seeing her caused a wave of self-doubt to wash over him.

Why had he even come here?

Just to be dismissed so coldly by his wife?

To be hated?

To feel this pathetic humiliation?

To be rejected so completely?

Suddenly, a burning anger surged through him.

What had he done that was so wrong?

Asking about consummation?

Trying to talk to her?

Coming to see her first?

He looked at Jay, who was standing there, frozen and unsure what to do. Then he simply turned and walked out of the room.

If he had known it would end like this, he wouldn’t have done anything. He shouldn’t have gone to see the princess. He shouldn’t have gone to see the Marquis either. He shouldn’t have gone to the gardener’s cottage. He shouldn’t have thought about her at all. He shouldn’t have examined his feelings. He should have done nothing from the very beginning.

Grinding his teeth, Kieron strode down the corridor.

His footsteps echoed loudly in the silence.

As he walked, he passed many people: Derrick, who had been waiting anxiously at a distance; Herald, who was coming up the stairs; John, who had been patrolling the lower floor; and the servants, who were cleaning on the first floor. Then—

“…Ha.”

Ariadne, quietly sobbing alone in a corner of the garden.

And with that single glance, he left everything behind.

***

After that day, the Ambrose couple avoided each other more than ever before.

They made sure not to see each other during household tasks and went out of their way not to cross paths.

Over time, it became painfully clear that neither of them wanted to spend time together.

As the days passed, they became more and more like strangers.

It was around this time that Sylvia replied, saying that changing the groomsman would be difficult.

It was a reminder of the day when someone had tried to take action, only to find themselves facing two people who had decided to do nothing at all.

“Her Highness says she cannot change the groomsman.”

“…”

“What would you like to do, Your Grace?”

In her letter, the princess explained that Young Lord Derayan was a close friend of her fiancé and that she could not bring herself to overrule his wish to give the role of groomsman to someone so dear to him.

She apologized for being unable to grant Kieron’s request and told him to let her know if there was anything else he needed.

She also apologized, asking whether she could still rely on the support he had promised her.

When Herald asked how he should compose his reply, Kieron remained silent for a long time, staring intently at the letter as if he intended to burn a hole straight through the page.

Eventually, he took out a sheet of paper, quickly wrote something on it and handed it to Herald.

“Send it as is.”

“Ah—yes, understood.”

Herald accepted the paper and glanced over its contents.

The words ‘I will honor the support I have promised’ were written in handwriting that screamed insincerity. In return, he asked that she give her word to grant any request he might make next time.

Herald hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was really all right to send it like this. In the end, however, he placed it in an envelope and sealed it.

“Then I’ll send it as is.”

“Fine.”

Kieron fell silent once more after that curt response. Herald watched him for a moment before letting out a barely audible sigh.

It felt suffocating.

Since a certain day, his master’s already limited speech had dwindled even further.

Kieron had never been a talkative man, but now he hardly spoke at all.

Unless he absolutely had to, he kept his mouth shut and the atmosphere around him was so heavy that approaching him felt almost impossible.

He’d heard that the mistress was the same. He sighed again, remembering what Jay had quietly confided in him not long ago. Ever since the two of them had been together, everything had changed.

The master no longer mentioned tea time. The mistress no longer seemed to care where he was or if he was well.

As it wasn’t a large household nor one filled with many events, there were simply fewer opportunities for them to meet.

And just like that, the two of them had become complete strangers.

If this wasn’t a collapse, what else could it be?

He remembered Jay, wringing her hands with a troubled face and saying, “At this rate, something really terrible is going to happen.”

Herald pressed his fingers to his temples and let out another slow, weary breath.

He was just as worried as Jay.

However, just as Jay had come to understand the mistress after years of serving her, Herald had come to understand the master equally well.

He knew one thing for certain: if they approached Kieron carelessly, the situation would spiral out of control.

That was why neither Derrick nor Herald had said a word to Kieron yet.

They both knew they couldn’t let things continue as they were, but they had no idea how to reach him without making matters worse.

“How long until the Peyton wedding?”

“About three weeks remain.”

“I see.”

Today, Her Ladyship had also left the estate to practice for the wedding procession.

Herald swallowed the words he had not been asked to speak, but he knew the Master must have been wondering why he had not mentioned it.

Saying it now would only be like throwing oil on a fire. He held his tongue, deciding instead to send someone to Jay to ask when the mistress was planning to return.

“Prepare the wedding gift as grandly as possible. It’s my wife’s family’s event, we can’t appear negligent.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Check my wife’s schedule as well. If possible, adjust mine so we can attend together.”

“Yes.”

Herald carefully reviewed each instruction, watching his master’s expression as he spoke.

He would need to consult Derrick about choosing a gift and check and adjust the schedules again.

As he organized the tasks in his mind, something suddenly occurred to him.

“Then… should we also prepare the outfit you’ll wear, Your Grace? Since Her Ladyship will be serving as a maid of honor, she’ll likely wear something similar to the groom’s side. So for you, perhaps…”

Groomsmen typically wore coordinated outfits — either identical or matching in color or design — to present a unified appearance.

However, matters became more complicated in a situation like this, where one half of a married couple was acting as a groomsman.

Herald tried to recall what Jay had said about the mistress’s attire for that day.

Concentrating on this, he failed to notice the master’s expression harden instantly.

“I’ll ask Jay and find out. If Her Ladyship plans to change into her groomsman attire at the venue, it will be easier to choose Your Grace’s clothes.”

“No. There’s no need.”

Should he ask Jay to persuade the mistress?

If she changed her clothes after leaving the estate, then the Duke wouldn’t need to dress in a style resembling that of Young Lord Derayan.

Yes. It would be most efficient to ask Her Ladyship to change at the venue.

Herald had just finished considering this option when Kieron interrupted him.

“She is the maid of honor that day. There’s no reason for me to match my attire with hers.”

“But, Your Grace… as you know, this is not merely any wedding. If rumors begin to spread that even your clothes do not match Her Ladyship’s—”

Rumors of discord would instantly erupt.

They couldn’t allow a scandal over something as trivial as mismatched outfits on a day that was supposed to be joyous for the Peytons.

It was a day when absolutely nothing should go wrong, especially not over meaningless gossip. So, just this once, could he not follow the suggestion?

Herald swallowed the plea before it could escape and looked at his master earnestly. But Kieron had already lowered his gaze to the documents, clearly unwilling to listen any further.

He intends to do as he pleases.

Herald realized this with a heavy heart.

He pressed a fist to his chest several times, trying to calm the frustration boiling inside him.

Why had a man who cared so fiercely about the family’s honor and dignity suddenly started acting as though none of it mattered?

It was obvious the issue involved the mistress — what else could it be?

If he was going to sulk, he should at least talk to her. Why was he locking himself away and making everyone else suffer?

Of course, he could never voice such thoughts aloud, so Herald raged silently inside his own head instead.

At this rate, he might truly have to sneak off and beg her for forgiveness, on his knees if necessary, to save them all.

Ah, the mistress…

The moment the thought crossed his mind, something tugged at his memory.

Something important.

Something he had forgotten.

Unable to grasp it, however, he said nothing. He simply continued silently cursing his master, who was still absorbed in his work. Suddenly…

“Your Grace, it’s Derrick.”

“Enter.”

Perfect timing!

No, it was divine intervention.

If anyone could handle their impossible master, it was Derrick.

No matter how hard Herald tried to read and soothe the duke’s moods, he could never hope to match the seasoned butler.

Derrick had spent almost as many years serving His Grace as Herald had been alive. His experience, his strategies — his entire arsenal — were on a completely different level.

More importantly, the duke at least pretended to listen whenever Derrick spoke.

So Herald was seriously considering slipping in behind him and quietly riding on his coattails when—

“Your Grace. Someone from the boutique has arrived.”

“…The boutique?”

“A boutique?”

The idea was so absurd that even Kieron cracked a smile.

It was impossible.

Her Ladyship wasn’t even home.

Who could have arranged something like this?

Herald glanced around, trying to identify the culprit, but all three men wore the same blank expression, as if they were the most innocent people alive.

“For now… wouldn’t it be better to go downstairs, Your Grace?”

Well, Derrick was right, it was a good opportunity. At least whoever had sent them could now take this chance to clothe His Grace properly.

Herald was just about to agree when—

“Send them away.”

Kieron’s voice cut through the air—cold, sharp, and impenetrable as steel.