Ilenia could not bring herself to answer. This arrogant, flawless man was one who always kept the words he spoke. That, more than anything, made him all the more infuriating.

“…Even so, not now.”

“Why not?”

His relentless questioning clung to the end of her words.

“Because the sun is still up… and there are other things that need to be done.”

“Is there really any duty more important than this?”

He gave a low, amused laugh.

“And if it’s only because the daylight embarrasses you—didn’t we already do it before, in broad light? Why not now?”

Did he really not see the difference? Frustration rose in her chest, but each time his golden eyes drew close and met hers, the words died on her lips.

There was no way those piercing eyes did not already know the truth. He knew the answer; all he wanted was for Ilenia to say it out loud.

“Hmm? Ilenia.”

His tone prodded her, patient yet merciless.

It was like a bird walking innocently into the open jaws of a crocodile, unaware of the danger. Ilenia quickly recalled the nights when he had taken her until dawn, the memory rushing in—only for her to shake her head fast, driving away such thoughts.

“I wanted to take a tour. I wanted to see the room that you said you lived in as a child. I can’t go there alone, either at night or when you’re not here.”

For a moment, a look of disappointment flashed across Delphius’s face. He had expected some embarrassed excuse, such as a protest about the shame of being in the daylight, or an unwillingness to expose her whole body to the sun. Instead, her simple deflection frustrated him more than he cared to admit.

What did that room mean to her anyway? Nothing of significance. His lips twitched faintly before he let out a long, quiet breath. He could have forced her onto the bed and broken her will until she yielded. She wouldn’t truly resist. She would submit, resolute and determined.

Yet, strangely, he found he did not want to. The contradictions she stirred within him — the unfamiliar impulses that no one else had ever awakened — were unsettling, yet not unwelcome. He decided that there was nothing wrong with indulging them.

“If I let you see the room, you won’t add any conditions afterward?”

She nodded quickly, over and over, as if afraid he might change his mind. His hand caught her small, bobbing head and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across her skin.

“Alright. We’ll do that.”

······ ✦ ✧ ✦ ······

The room that Ilenia had often struggled to find was, in truth, not far away at all. Tucked away on the western side of the building, it appeared almost hidden and secret. The door groaned ominously as it opened, as if protesting against its long-term neglect.

It was darker inside than she had expected. Every piece of furniture was covered in white cloth and a faint chill ran through the air, as if the room itself resented being disturbed.

“I’m not sure there’s any oil left in the lamp.”

After a few failed tries, flame finally sparked beneath his fingers. The faint glow spread softly through the space, revealing at last why the room had seemed so dark.

“Ah… the curtains were drawn.”

That explained why the room had seemed so dim despite the sun not yet having set. Ilenia moved towards the window. The fabric beneath her fingertips felt much heavier than that in the other rooms — thick, seemingly winter-intended curtains that were cumbersome and difficult to move as she pulled them aside.

At last, they yielded, revealing a pane clouded with years of dust. The latch was darker and more worn than any she had seen before. She lifted it carefully and sunlight spilled forth through the narrow opening.

She winced at the brightness. Golden light poured in, dazzling and radiant, flooding the room with a warm glow. Beyond, from the tip of the clock tower, the sun hung low in the sky, inching towards the horizon. Between the gaps in the distant buildings, streaks of crimson and amber flared up, staining the air.

When her eyes finally adjusted, she turned her head. The room, once shrouded in darkness, was now revealed in clear detail.

“See? We don’t need the lamp anymore, do we?”

Delphius, who had been watching her smiling in the sunlight, lowered his gaze to his feet. He had been standing in the shadows, away from the light. Slowly, he stepped forward.

The sun welcomed him. Its brilliance outshone the lamp in his hand and he put out the flame. The faint scent of oil lingered briefly before vanishing into the golden air.

“You’re right.”

“I thought so too.”

Answering lightly, Ilenia turned in a slow circle. The brighter the room became, the more starkly the white sheets stood out over the furniture.

“Do whatever you like. Don’t mind me.”

“You already said I could look around as much as I wanted.”

She replied, her voice tinged with a small protest, as though caught in her own eagerness.

Once she had received the Master’s permission, she became bolder. She removed the cloth coverings one by one. There was a desk, worn smooth with use. A small bed, suitable for a child. A sofa. A wardrobe still holding clothes from long ago. There was also a dresser, crafted with the same delicacy as her own, only smaller in scale.

Finally, she pulled away the largest cloth, her lips parting in awe.

“Wow…”

An entire wall was lined with shelves. This bookcase was designed for use, not just display: its books were marked with smudged ink, had dog-eared corners, and were well worn.

“You loved books, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“Really? For someone who didn’t like books, you certainly had plenty. Enough to fill not just the library, but even your own room. You’re telling me you didn’t care for them?”

“I couldn’t go to the library back then.”

“What?”

“Exactly what I said.”

Delphius’s gaze drifted toward the shelves.

“I wasn’t allowed into the library. But I still wanted to read. So I bought my own.”

The way he looked at the bookcase was distant, as if he were staring past the spines, past the room itself, to somewhere far beyond.

“With nothing else to do, I read. Out of boredom at first. That’s all it was. One book after another, until they piled up like this.”

His hand moved slowly across the shelf, his fingertips grazing the spines of books — some mere fairy tales for children, others filled with knowledge demanding serious study. He looked at each book in turn, quietly and contemplatively.

Only then did Ilenia realize what had been tugging at her since she first entered the room.

It wasn’t just the books.

It was the absence.

There were wardrobes and drawers — the kind of furnishings one would expect to find in a child’s room — but not a single mirror. No dressing table. Not even a surface polished enough to hold a reflection. Any object that might have reflected his image had been deliberately and conspicuously removed.

“Not quite the sort of room to satisfy your curiosity, is it?”

The voice by her ear pulled her back. She turned quickly, finding him sliding a book back into place, as though he had never taken it down at all.

“Well… it’s not what I expected. That surprised me a little.”

“Oh? And what was it you imagined my room to be?”

“I thought—since it was where you spent your childhood—it would be more lavish. I pictured toy chests overflowing, jars that never ran out of sweets… things like that.”

Her words came with a sheepish laugh, recalling the kind of dream-room she had once imagined as a child.

A short, derisive sound escaped him, half amusement, half scorn.

“Then you’d have been disappointed for sure. Unfortunately for you, I never cared much for toys. Or sweets.”

“And you didn’t care for books either. So what did you like?”

“Numbers.”

The answer came without hesitation.

“Unlike vague words, numbers can be measured. Precise. Exact. That’s what I preferred.”

In truth, it was the perfect reflection of a businessman’s mindset. Delphius had probably never been the kind of child anyone would have found endearing. She could almost picture him: his body was smaller, but his face was set in the same expression that he wore now. The image nearly made her laugh. It was odd yet fitting — it suited him entirely.

If they had a son, he would undoubtedly be the spitting image of his father. Perhaps a daughter as well. With such a striking face, long hair would suit him, too. However, she found it hard to imagine him in a dress. If she contributed even a trace of her own features, maybe his sharp eyes would soften, if only slightly.

If the child resembled her, perhaps they would dislike numbers altogether. She wondered what her younger self would have thought upon stepping into this room. Initially, she might have gaped at the fine furnishings, only to lose interest the moment she realized how empty the room truly was.

“A daughter could never use this room. If she were told this undecorated place was hers, she’d surely be disappo—”

“No. Even if it’s a son, this room will never be used again.”

“Delphius?”

“Especially when it comes to our child.”

He cut her off with an expression she had never seen before: cold and almost chilling. Although she knew his frown was not aimed at her, the icy weight of it still sent a shiver down her spine. Almost without thinking, she clasped her hands together.

“The view is poor, the sunlight barely reaches it, and it’s far from the main hall. Too inconvenient.”

“…Still, it holds your childhood.”

“What does that matter? I hardly lived here long.”

His voice had grown sharp, but then, suddenly, a smile softened his face.

“Our child will live in the main estate, Ilenia. And so will we.”

He spoke as though the dukedom were already his by right. She remembered that the heir of House Lukehardt had not yet been decided, but merely nodded in response.

“…I understand.”

“It’s a matter far in the future, Ilenia. Your belly isn’t even round yet. Isn’t it too soon to speak of such things?”

With effortless ease, he swept her into his arms, his gaze drifting towards the gentle curve of her stomach.

“Or are you trying to tempt me into giving you a child sooner?”

He turned to look at her.