In any case, the conversation ended more smoothly than he had expected.

This was partly thanks to Kieron racking his brains for excuses that barely counted as such, but above all it was Ariadne’s generosity that settled things.

“Your Grace, knowing what you think and how you feel is a very important matter.”

From the moment she realized that he didn’t understand his own thoughts or emotions, perhaps she began to show him an inexplicable kind of grace.

No matter what he said, she responded with patience and understanding.

Throughout their subsequent conversation, she behaved as though she knew the reasons behind his actions and understood what had shaped his way of thinking.

It was a kind of generosity laced with sympathy.

Kieron couldn’t follow her line of reasoning at all. But what mattered was this: she seemed willing — if only slightly — to accept him again.

For a man who believed that she no longer cared about him or his actions, this was an unexpectedly gratifying outcome.

“…Hmph. Your Grace?”

When he lifted his head, pulled from his thoughts, she was looking at him with concern. Kieron found the sight strangely satisfying and shook his head.

“Is something wrong? You don’t look well.”

“No, it’s nothing. I just had something on my mind.”

After their long conversation that night, the two of them agreed to resume the tea times that had become irregular.

As she said, sharing a bed was hardly the important issue.

“The last time, I understand you mistook tea time for simply… drinking tea. Aside from that, are there any other misunderstandings you have about social customs?”

“…Well. I’m not even sure what counts as proper custom and what doesn’t…”

“Then let’s hold regular tea times from now on. To clear up misunderstandings, and untangle whatever we’ve misread about each other. That sounds reasonable, doesn’t it?”

Adhering to the principle of understanding before solving, they began meeting regularly for tea. She usually did most of the talking while he nodded along or answered her questions.

She seemed genuinely fond of this time together.

As long as she was happy, Kieron was content.

“When the wife is happy, the household is happy.”

The Marquis’s words echoed in his mind as he fixed his gaze on her again.

“So—how are the preparations for being a bridesmaid going?”

Recalling what they had discussed earlier, he asked.

She brightened immediately, as though she had never worn that worried expression.

“Yes. The formalwear is all fitted, and the place for changing has been decided. The outfits we’ll be matching have been sent to the marquisate, and the bridesmaid dresses will be delivered straight to the venue.”

Recently, her main preoccupation had been her role as bridesmaid. With the wedding only three weeks away, she could not wait any longer. She brought up the wedding, or her involvement in it, almost every day.

Meeting twice a week for short tea-fueled chats hardly seemed enough anymore. He’d recently found himself struggling to feign interest in topics that didn’t interest him at all. But at least he had begun to develop some tact, and, if he were honest, he genuinely wanted to understand her better.

“So when we go to the marquisate, we won’t need to prepare anything else?”

“Yes. The outfits will already be there, so I think we’ll only need to pack accessories. Derrick and Jay said they’d take care of everything else.”

Ariadne nodded brightly.

What on earth had made her so happy?

Kieron had always wondered that, even as he tried to match her tone.

Since they started having these conversations, he had learned something unexpected: she felt joy over the smallest things and sadness just as easily.

According to Derrick, she was what people called ‘a sensitive soul’.

Whatever the terminology, Kieron felt that if there was a word to describe someone whose daily life was full of tiny joys, excitements and delights, then it might as well have been Ariadne Ambrose.

That was how quickly she lit up. How easily she delighted. How naturally she felt happiness. Once, she spent an entire day gushing over a tiny sprig of greenery that Jay had picked for her from the garden.

Jay said she had always been that way, ever since she was a child.

Kieron knew he would never fully understand her thought process. So rather than trying to, he told himself it was better to simply look at her as she was.

“Mother said she might need a few things too, so she’s preparing them. And just in case, she plans on arranging a good rider who can go back and forth between the marquisate and the duke’s estate quickly.”

“A rider?”

“Yes. In case Jay or Herald has to hurry back to the estate. You can’t really send someone who doesn’t know where everything is.”

Ariadne added it as though it were the most natural thing in the world, smiling again. But Kieron found the thought utterly baffling.

Sending someone all the way back for some item?

Why not just buy whatever was needed?

“Couldn’t you simply buy things again? The shopping district isn’t that far from the marquisate.”

“Well… the wedding is in the morning. I don’t think any stores will be open that early.”

“Ah. I see.”

He nodded, finally understanding. He had incorrectly assumed that she was trying to save money out of concern for the estate’s finances.

Had this happened before their recent conversations, he would have believed that and become irritated, saying nothing.

Kieron realized then how much he had changed. Or rather, how his way of thinking had changed. The direction of his thoughts had shifted.

Whatever the cause, it felt like a positive change. Because of this, he could now spend time with her without constantly fearing her anger or the threat of divorce hanging over them whenever they spoke.

Slowly, they began to resolve their misunderstandings.

Not perfectly, but steadily.

They had cleared up the confusion surrounding tea time, and she had begun to understand why he had kept his distance, if only a little.

The root of it had been his inability to speak honestly about what he thought and felt.

The rest involved her father, and it was something he couldn’t explain without crossing lines he had no right to cross.

However, he no longer wanted to resent Ariadne Peyton for any of it.

Not anymore.

There was still more left unsaid than said, but they were moving forward, one small step at a time.

Feeling quietly proud of the progress they had made, Kieron continued the conversation, which mostly concerned the bridesmaid preparations and Heidel’s upcoming wedding.

Strangely, he didn’t find it burdensome at all this time.

Maybe it was because he felt he was improving.

In any case, while their conversation was proceeding relatively peacefully, a name suddenly popped into Kieron’s mind, and he brought it up.

“So… you’re not seeing Princess Sylvia anymore?”

“Her Highness? Mm… I do see her from time to time. Her Highness once said she wanted to grow closer to me, and when we practice, Heidel often brings Her Highness along. So we end up meeting now and then.”

“Lord Peyton brings the princess with him? I thought the two of you were meeting separately.”

He immediately regretted mentioning her.

It was one thing to mention the princess, but it was Heidel’s behavior that truly bothered him.

He had heard that she often visited during the bridesmaid rehearsals to see her. He’d assumed it was just a friend spending time with his dearest friend and younger sister.

He hadn’t expected him to show up with his fiancée in tow.

“Do the two of them come often?”

“Uh, sometimes?”

“And what do they talk about when they’re here?”

He had his suspicions but no proof. If he wanted something to hold on to, he felt his only chance was in the content of their conversations, so he began to question Ariadne more specifically.

“Just this and that. My brother seems to have a lot to talk about with Jade, so I sometimes step out to give them space.”

“And you talk with the princess?”

“Right. We just chat about whether the wedding preparations are going well, how things are between her and my brother, what my brother was like as a child, what her original ideal type was—things like that.”

“And you and Lord Peyton, have you ever met alone?”

Ariadne looked puzzled.

Kieron had never asked so many questions at once; usually he just listened in silence. But he ignored her expression and kept going, determined to prepare himself for any possible situation that might arise.

“Not that many times. And even when we did meet, I don’t recall us having any particularly unusual conversations.”

Ariadne didn’t reveal any suspicious details.

It was her brother and his fiancée who were acting suspiciously.

How could she not have questioned their intentions when Heidel and Sylvia were being so obvious?

She was being naive to be so oblivious to the ways of the world.

He only had circumstantial evidence, but his instincts told him that it was dangerous for Heidel and the princess to be alone with Ariadne one after the other.

In fact, it felt unsettling rather than dangerous.

‘What are they plotting?’

The princess had recently made a deal with him, offering political support in exchange for a different selection of bridesmaids. That plan had fallen through and been replaced with something else, but still.

To Heidel Peyton, Jade Derayan was a dear friend, the only bridesmaid important enough for him to refuse his fiancée’s request.

So what were Sylvia and Heidel discussing with him?

And in front of Ariadne, no less?

“Oh, but Her Highness keeps bringing up divorce. She said someone she knows is getting divorced and that the husband isn’t cooperating, so it’s been very difficult. She said she’s thinking about what kind of laws could be made to handle such cases better.”

Divorce.

Kieron immediately realized what that couple was aiming for. They called it lawmaking, but all they were really doing was probing Ariadne. Otherwise, they wouldn’t toss around something as sensitive as divorce so casually.

“So, did you share your opinion with them?”

“No. Who am I to say anything? I just listen politely and nod at the right moments. What if I say the wrong thing and cause trouble?”

“Well done.”

As expected, she was sensible.

Kieron let out a breath, realizing his worries had been unnecessary—that is, until she continued.

“But actually… before that, Heidel once…”

No—that was where everything truly began.