As she spent the entire day staring blankly out the window, Ariadne was brought back to herself by a quiet voice.

“The Duke asked if you would like to join him for tea this afternoon.”

Tea time.

‘Tea time? With His Grace?’

When she blinked in confusion, Jay—standing beside her—hurriedly met her eyes.

“Madam, do you remember? You once told His Grace you wanted to have tea together. He said he would let you know first when he had spare time.”

Ah.

That tea time.

But it felt as though nearly a full year had passed since she made that request.

It was already a different year now.

Ariadné let out a small, hollow laugh.

Was this his attempt at atonement, for the wife he hadn’t looked at even once all this time? Or was it simply another step in whatever plan he had to tear her apart again?

“If Madam is not too tired, His Grace suggested spending time in the garden.”

Herald, her husband’s aide whom she saw far more often than her husband, bowed with his usual politeness.

Wasn’t he the viscount’s youngest son? Born to a second wife, he was not welcome in the viscount’s manor, which only accepted legitimate heirs.

She remembered Derrick mentioning this in passing when she was still getting to know the people in the duchy. Back then, she had pitied him, imagining how difficult his life must have been.

Ariadne looked at Herald with slightly unfocused eyes before giving a faint, weary smile.

What did any of it matter now?

She wasn’t even allowed to say a kind word to her own husband.

She gave a small nod.

“All right. Please tell him I understand.”

“If there is a tea you prefer, please let us know. His Grace instructed that everything be prepared to Madam’s liking.”

Her preferences.

The word carried a strange weight, coming from a husband she had not seen even once for almost a year and a half.

So she tilted her chin toward Jay.

Jay practically sparkled as she cheerfully listed that Madam enjoyed herbal teas and preferred mild desserts over sweet ones.

“Then I will have it prepared that way, Madam.”

“…All right. Thank you.”

As Herald bowed and stepped out, Jay approached her, her face glowing with excitement.

Who knew what she had managed to infer from that brief exchange?

A devoted reader of romance novels, Jay always tried to offer hopeful interpretations about the Duke.

Despite there being absolutely nothing optimistic to work with, she chattered on, delighted by the slightest hint of possibility.

Ariadne looked at Jay’s shining face — at a woman who hadn’t even spoken yet — and let out a soft, amused breath.

“Madam, are you happy too.”

“What about you, why are you so happy?”

“Because you’ll finally be spending time with His Grace, Madam!”

‘Because he knows exactly why he’s calling for me.’

That single thought rose up in her throat, filling it to the point where she could hardly breathe. Then it sank back down again.

From somewhere deep within her, buried in the furthest corner of her memory, the day she first met him resurfaced.

A year and a half.

Perhaps during all that time, he had been preparing himself to accept her.

Maybe he thought it was all right now because she was eating properly again, and color had returned to her face. Maybe he believed it was finally time for them to share something.

Yes.

Maybe it really was a good thing, just as Jay’s hopeful expression suggested.

As that long-buried feeling cautiously surfaced, Ariadne turned to Jay and offered her a faint, gentle smile.

“Will you dress me up, Jay? Nothing too extravagant—just enough.”

“Of course, Madam! Today, I’ll make you so beautiful that His Grace finally sees your true self!”

Looking at Jay, whose face was full of excitement, Ariadne pressed down gently on her quietly pounding heart.

Yes.

Maybe something good would happen today.

She decided to think that way.

***

She chose a soft, rose-tinted dress to complement her hair and wore the sapphire earrings she had received as a wedding gift — stones that reminded her of his eyes.

She loosely gathered her reddish-gold hair and styled her makeup to match her eyes, which were the color of the night sky.

After applying a subtle perfume that he would probably like, Jay clapped her hands and her eyes sparkled.

“Heavens, Madam! You’re the most beautiful I’ve seen you this year!”

“Isn’t it simply because this is the first time I’ve dressed up at all this year?”

“That’s exactly why! Madam is always beautiful, but when you put some care into your appearance, you bloom instantly! So of course you’ll become more beautiful every time you dress up!”

Ariadne would usually have told her to stop fussing, but today she simply found Jay’s behavior endearing.

Holding her dress, she turned towards the mirror.

Looking back was a face that looked livelier than usual.

A shy girl with softly flushed cheeks stood there.

Compared to when she had always stared blankly out of the window, her complexion wasn’t bad today. It made her feel better somehow.

“Madam, shall we get a meal and go shopping afterward? It would be a waste not to, since you dressed up so nicely!”

“You look more excited than I am. And you know I prefer walking to shopping.”

“Then we can go for a walk instead! Whatever you like—just don’t stay in your room today, Madam!”

Only when she heard Jay’s excited voice did Ariadne realize that Jay had gone to extra lengths to dress her, doing it for her own sake.

She had never been fond of balls or salons.

The only things she had grown to enjoy here were the tasks related to the estate’s internal affairs, but even those had recently been taken away from her.

How pitiful she must have seemed, pacing around her room with nothing left to do!

A fresh wave of gratitude welled up in Ariadné’s chest.

“…Thank you, Jay.”

“Pardon? Oh—think nothing of it! This is my job!”

“Even so… honestly, I don’t know how I would have endured here without you.”

The moment she said it, something unexpected rose up inside her.

She had believed that she could make a fresh start in this new place and that, surrounded by people far more extraordinary than herself, she wouldn’t cause any trouble simply by being the plain, ordinary woman she was.

She thought she could live quietly, doing what she could, and find happiness that way.

She had entered this marriage with the best of intentions.

So how had everything ended up like this?

Suddenly, an unreasonable sadness welled up in her chest, filling her eyes with tears. She bit down hard on her lips.

“What? Madam, are you crying? You can’t cry right now!”

Tears began to gather at the edges of her carefully applied make-up, and Jay panicked, running around in a frenzy and shouting.

“Handkerchief! Handkerchief!’

Her frantic scrambling — so clumsy, so earnest and so worried — was strangely adorable, not to mention painfully touching.

Ariadne, her eyes brimming with tears, let out a small, breathless laugh.

“Oh dear, Madam! Your makeup is smudging!”

When she smiled with her eyes curved, the tears gathered along her lashes slipped down the corners of her eyes.

Ariadne laughed like that for a long while, watching Jay fuss and dab at her face, desperately telling her not to cry.

***

“Madam sent these.”

“A birthday gift, she said.”

“She asked that they be delivered to His Grace.”

The things she sent always varied.

Sometimes it was a handkerchief; sometimes, cufflinks; and sometimes, a bouquet of flowers.

She had recently started eating properly again, yet still only sent gifts and never came to see him in person.

He supposed that made sense.

The last time he had seen her, her face had been completely drained of color, a memory that still irritated him.

She had looked as if she might collapse the moment he looked at her, leaving him unsure of what to say or how to approach her.

So he thought it was a good sign that she was eating well now. A relief.

Until one day, the thought struck him out of nowhere.

“…When exactly does my wife eat?”

Kieron Ambrose was snowed under with work. He was so busy that he could have used an extra ten pairs of hands.

The Emperor summoned him at all hours, the ducal affairs were finally recovering after once being on the verge of collapse, the elders hounded him endlessly to produce an heir, and he had to maintain steady relations with the other noble houses to consolidate the family’s restored status.

He spent only a handful of days each year at the family’s capital mansion, yet in all that time he had never seen her eat in the dining hall, not even once.

“Madam usually takes her meals in her room.”

“…The table in her room is small. And yet she’s eating well?”

“Her maid says Madam eats twice as much now as she did at her family home.”

Then it hit him.

At some point, she had stopped inviting him to join her for meals.

Why?

This was the first thought that came to mind, overshadowing everything else.

When had it started?

She used to eat well, and yet… Why didn’t she come down to the dining hall anymore?

Why didn’t she ask him to join her?

“…She’s eating twice her usual amount and there’s nothing wrong? That’s considered eating well?”

“I cannot say, as I have never actually seen Madam take a meal.”

“…Ha.”

Derrick’s firm, cleanly cut answer grated on him.

He had never once seen her eat, so how could he know whether she was eating well or not? And Derrick—replying only based on what a maid had said?

It was only natural that the mood, which had been tolerable just moments ago, soured in an instant.

“Derrick. I recall that you were rather fond of the Madam.”

“How could anyone dislike a person like her?”

“Then why did you only listen to the maid’s report? Why didn’t you check for yourself? Why didn’t you send for a physician when you heard she was eating more than usual? What if she collapses again…?”

He was irritated.
Deeply.

“The physician said it was an illness of the heart. He instructed us to let her eat however she wishes for the time being, so I’ve only been adjusting the portion sizes each day. She also takes a walk once a day without fail. The maid who stays close to her cares for her diligently, so I saw no need to intervene.”

“An illness… of the heart?”

“Yes. That’s what he said. Still, she isn’t overeating, so I believed it best not to pry too closely and to simply observe for now.”

Derrick’s report was painfully monotonous. He spoke in a measured tone with controlled inflection and plain language. The content itself was anything but trivial, yet Kieron found his unaffected manner increasingly irritating. Suddenly, someone knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

It was Herald who stepped inside. It seemed he had returned from delivering the message to the Madam.

Kieron received him with a displeased expression.

“What did I ask you to deliver?”

“I conveyed it properly.”

That was all.

Herald added nothing, merely bowed his head slightly toward Kieron and began to step back as though returning to his station.

“…That’s it?”

Unable to hold back any longer, Kieron spoke first.

The Herald turned towards him, wearing a puzzled expression that suggested he truly didn’t understand what more could possibly be expected of him.

He was naturally concise, shaped by years of serving a master who valued only speed and precision. But wasn’t it strange to visit the unwell Madam and return without remarking on her condition?

Kieron stared at the Herald, looking displeased, while the Herald looked back as if silently asking what the issue was.

Yet no matter how long he waited, his master — who usually made his wishes perfectly clear — remained silent, merely watching him.

In the end, it was Herald who lifted his hand first.

“Is there anything else you would like me to tell the Madam?”

If so, he would go back and deliver it.

If not, he would wait for further orders. Simple enough.

Even when the aide prompted him to give an instruction, Kieron remained silent.

He felt that if he asked about his wife, Derrick, who was standing there observing, would give him that unbearably meaningful look that he couldn’t bear.

So Kieron simply waved his hand to stop the aide from speaking.