Kieron had come to pick up Ariadne purely on impulse. He happened to have a bit of spare time today, but more than that, the conversation she’d shared the day before kept bothering him.

“So you’re saying Heidel Peyton asked you about remarriage?”

“Yes. He asked what I thought about remarriage… and how I would feel if someone close to me remarried. But I don’t even have anyone around me to ask such a question about.”

It seemed Heidel Peyton was genuinely considering the idea of marrying Ariadne off again. That must have been why he brought up remarriage out of nowhere—as if testing her reaction. It was absurd to think he himself would remarry when the wedding was so close, and Derayan, still unmarried, was even less likely. Which meant the “close person” he spoke of couldn’t be anyone but Ariadne.

She said she had no idea why her brother kept asking such things, and lately, it had started to make her uncomfortable.

“I wondered if my brother had some strange plan in mind… but I also don’t want to say anything that might upset Her Highness. The wedding is so close, and I don’t want to trouble her unnecessarily.”

“I see. Then do as you wish. Peyton won’t give up his stubbornness anyway.”

“I just can’t figure out what he’s thinking… You know that feeling? When something makes you uneasy for no clear reason?”

Ariadne was certain something would happen soon. She had this lingering sense that her brother might cause some sort of trouble.

“Of course, it would be best if nothing happened… but you can’t ignore your instincts, right?”

Kieron thought, ‘Is that so?’ but still nodded at her words. Instinct and intuition were uncertain realms that defied logic, even on the battlefield. There were times when he and his comrades had survived simply because of a strange feeling that made no sense.

He didn’t fully trust such instincts, but he knew they were occasionally necessary.

“Then how about avoiding the Derayan estate for a while?”

“I can’t. The wedding is right around the corner. And I don’t have the luxury of waiting until my brother exhausts himself and gives up.”

She offered this as her best solution, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough. Before the ceremony, she said, she needed to become the perfect bridesmaid: memorizing the etiquette for receiving guests, the congratulatory message she would deliver to the bride and groom, and so on.

Seeing the stubborn determination in Ariadne’s eyes, Kieron let out a small, amused breath.

“Then I’ll come pick you up.”

“…Your Excellency will?”

The solution was simple.

All he had to do was step forward himself.

Then Heidel Peyton would have no reason to bother Ariadne — there would be no more talk of divorce or remarriage, or any other thoughtless remark intended to provoke her. Kieron felt it was time to make things unmistakably clear: she was still his, and her attention had returned to him. This belief alone had prompted him to carve out what little time he could spare today.

After escorting her back to her room, he would probably have to leave for work immediately, but that didn’t matter. It was better than doing nothing.

What mattered now was putting an end to this absurd situation. He would resolve everything swiftly: take her home himself, and then return to his duties. That was the priority. Once that was done, Heidel Peyton’s constant provocations would naturally cease.

Armed with this resolve, he arrived at the Derayan estate in person with the carriage in which Ariadne would travel, accompanied by a small escort of knights to ensure her safety.

“Tell Lord Derayan that the Duke of Ambrose has arrived to fetch his wife back.”

He was confident, utterly certain that his appearance alone would overturn the entire situation.

***

At that same moment, Ariadne was once again held captive by Sylvia, listening to yet another conversation she had no idea why she needed to hear.

“So the duchess is quite open-minded about remarriage?”

“Well… I wouldn’t say open-minded, exactly.”

If she were being honest, she hadn’t really thought about it at all.

Ariadne let her words fade away, offering only an awkward smile. In truth, whether someone got divorced or remarried was entirely their own business. It wasn’t something a stranger like her needed to involve herself in. She already had more than enough to deal with. Given everything she was struggling to manage, she couldn’t fathom why other people’s marriages, divorces or remarriages mattered so much.

She believed that women seeking divorce or remarriage deserved legal and social protection, but she had never given the issue much thought. Only a few days ago, she had seriously considered divorce herself, but even then, she hadn’t fully grasped how serious it could be. Remarriage was something she had never even considered.

“Still, don’t you pay attention to social expectations or rumors? You’re planning to show your face in society soon, aren’t you?”

Sylvia didn’t seem to notice Ariadne’s discomfort. She only continued pressing for an opinion. At this point, Ariadne couldn’t tell whether Sylvia was asking about her own divorce… or if she was simply curious.

“I’m extremely dissatisfied with how, in this society, divorce is always considered the woman’s fault. So I’m curious whether anyone else thinks the same.”

“Um… to be honest, I’ve never thought about it much. Although I do think those rumors and the way the public looks at divorced women are unfair…”

Was she dissatisfied with the social climate?

Ariadne thought that if Sylvia ever became emperor, things would certainly change.

As for herself, she had never given society’s norms, or the structure that upheld them, any serious thought. Dealing with her own issues had always been challenging enough, and she had never been particularly interested in politics or the ever-changing social landscape. Perhaps that was only natural: she had grown up surrounded by the unwavering love of her parents and brothers and had always been kept safe and comfortable. It made sense that she hadn’t paid much attention to such complicated matters.

However, after hearing Sylvia speak, Ariadne found herself thinking that it might be worth considering them at least once.

“High society is a cruel crowd. Making a fool of someone means nothing to them. They get excited over other people’s stories while desperately hiding their own. They pretend to be refined, but deep down, they’re no different from animals.”

Sylvia voiced her thoughts in a distinctly cynical tone.

Perhaps she had been holding these frustrations inside for a long time, or maybe she had seen someone close to her suffer a great injustice. Otherwise, Ariadne couldn’t imagine her being so critical.

After all, how much concern could a privileged princess truly have for issues like these?

Ariadne herself had never paid them much attention. So she simply nodded and listened.

“Especially when it comes to divorce and remarriage. They treat divorce as a shameful stain and remarriage as almost monstrous. Yet they hide lovers and mistresses in the shadows and never consider that shameful.”

In truth, among the nobility, keeping a mistress or lover was practically a custom — an open secret.

No one divorced, as this would attract criticism. Instead, having a lover was seen as a harmless indulgence, mere entertainment.

Shouldn’t it have been the other way around?

“If it’s like that, they should just divorce instead.”

“Exactly!”

It felt as if a private thought had somehow escaped.

Sylvia clapped her hands in agreement. She said it was only natural and couldn’t understand why everyone disliked, resisted or recoiled from something so simple and reasonable.

Growing more animated, Sylvia continued, excitement evident in her voice.

“Divorce should be accepted. Remarriage should be accepted, too. The real targets of blame and rejection should be extramarital affairs.”

The more Ariadne listened, the more logical everything sounded. But why didn’t people think that way? Sitting quietly, she found herself wondering.

Why had what should have been natural stopped being natural? Why had the unnatural become the norm? Why had things that deserved society’s condemnation become matters whispered about in secret with approval, while things that should have been celebrated openly were pushed into the shadows? Why had the world become like this? Why did people become so obsessed with the simple matter of two people meeting and parting? Was the shame of an immoral relationship somehow easier to bear?

Most people simply endured such relationships, treating them as if they were insignificant. Only a few — those who could no longer bear it — had the courage to seek a divorce.

In high society, the reason for divorce was almost always the same: a wife who could no longer tolerate her husband’s infidelity or illegitimate children.

In such cases, it was the husband who should have been held accountable.

So why was it always the woman who faced the harsher condemnation?

As this thought settled in her mind, another followed close behind.

What would have happened if she had gone through with the divorce? Would people have assumed that she—or Kieron—had been involved in an affair?

‘Is that why Kieron stopped me?’

‘Did he suggest sharing a bed because he thought it would help our relationship?’

Even if others, or even the servants, whispered about the cause of the divorce later on, at least she wouldn’t have to hear things like, “She was cast aside without even spending her wedding night with him.”

As she listened to Sylvia passionately arguing that women’s voices were barely considered in marriage yet denied even the freedom to divorce, Ariadne found herself thinking once again that Kieron was terrible at expressing himself.

If only he had explained things like that when he first suggested they share a bed, perhaps their conversation could have unfolded more gently.

While Ariadne was lost in thought, someone knocked on the door.

“Your Highness, The Duke of Ambrose has arrived.”

Her husband had come to fetch her.

Just as he said he would yesterday.