It was the same Ilenia as always.

Delphius couldn’t bring himself to look away. Every fragment of his gaze—down to the smallest trace—was wholly fixed on her.

It felt as though her forgotten memories had restored everything.

The once-lively estate. The slightly bustling surroundings. And Ilenia herself—always smiling at him.

Everything seemed to have returned to how it was meant to be.

Contrary to the physician’s claim that she was trapped in delusion, Ilenia appeared more normal than ever.

“……”

A soft hum slipped from between her small lips.

It was a melody she often hummed while soothing a child—and the sound of it caught his ears, holding him captive.

Everything felt so peaceful.

So much so that he almost began to wonder—

‘What if this was the truth… and everything that had happened before was the lie?’

Or perhaps—

‘What if all of this… was nothing more than a false illusion I had created myself?’

And if, instead of rising like this and humming softly, she were still lost in endless sleep.

Delphius pressed a hand to his aching chest.

The pain felt deep, buried somewhere far beneath the surface—like a bruise lodged within him. No matter how much he pressed down, the dull ache refused to fade.

Just a day ago, Ilenia had been unable to move from that very bed.

Wrapped tightly in thick blankets, she had looked almost like a child in a cradle.

Her face buried in the pillow, she did nothing but breathe softly—over and over again.

When he looked at her closed eyes, so neatly shut, it almost felt as though everything that had happened was nothing more than a lie.

…Except for the fact that she could not wake from that dream.

Every desire to live had been stripped from her.

She rejected food. She refused to bathe. She sank deeper and deeper into sleep, as though she were trying to erase herself from the world.

There had been a time when he tried to wake her—forcing her, if he had to.

He coaxed her gently, brought her flowers from outside, even begged her to come out with him.

Even in her confusion, her nature had remained kind.

And so, each time, Ilenia would reluctantly rise from her bed.

But only for a moment.

Her mind—already worn to shreds—could no longer sustain even the simplest rhythm of daily life.

At times, she would fixate on nothing at all, giving meaning to empty things—then erupt in madness, raging like a lunatic, only to break down into tears moments later.

“I hear the baby… I can hear it crying, Delphius. I have to go soothe it… but I can’t find the baby. Isn’t that strange? There’s no way our child wouldn’t be in this estate. Our baby can’t even walk yet…”

“Can’t you hear it? The baby is crying from hunger. Delphius, please… please bring me our child…”

“I hate the sunrise. Our baby is gone, and yet tomorrow still comes as if nothing happened… I hate it…”

Everything had fallen apart: her sight, her mind, and her body.

Through tears, Ilenia herself would admit that, after losing her child, she had forgotten how to live. Even the simplest tasks, such as opening her eyes, felt unfamiliar. She no longer knew how to wake up and get through the day.

As she spoke, she collapsed into his arms, sobbing endlessly.

Not even the reassurance from the doctor that nothing could have been done brought her any comfort. Ilenia had already judged herself.

She believed that she was a mother who had failed to protect her own child.

She blamed herself relentlessly, resented who she had become, and was tearing herself apart piece by piece. With no refuge even in sleep, her days were spent on the brink of collapse, haunted by constant fear.

Would she die like this?

Would she follow their child… just like this?

All he could do was watch helplessly and restlessly, consumed by dread.

But now… things were different.

Ilenia no longer cried in search of an escape.

As she always had, she composed herself and looked for even the smallest tasks she could do on her own.

Just like when they had first been married. Like when the ceremony had just ended, and she had only just stepped into this estate.

The very same woman from that day—when everything had seemed as though it would turn out well—now stood before him.

“Delphius? Why are you just standing there?”

“…Nothing. I was just looking at you.”

At his words, her eyes curved into a soft, beautiful smile.

Even the faint blush that colored her cheeks beneath that unfamiliar face was lovely.

“What did the physician say? Is our baby growing well?”

“Yes. Very well. Without any disturbance… without any danger, it’s growing just fine.”

“Really?”

“That’s a relief…”

She murmured softly, gently caressing her stomach.

Unlike before, when it had been full and swollen, her abdomen was now flat—yet for some reason, it drew his gaze all the more.

“I keep imagining it… what our child will look like when it’s born. Will it take after you, or resemble me…? Or perhaps neither—and I’ll have to go through the Lukehardt family portraits one by one, searching for who it might resemble…”

‘It does resemble you. So much so… it looks just like you.’

The words rose to his throat, trembling—but Delphius forced them back down.

“I’m looking forward to it as well.”

“Right?”

There was laughter in every word she spoke.

Because she was happy—because she was overflowing with love—her gaze never lifted to meet his, remaining fixed on her stomach.

“No matter what kind of child it is, I’ll love it. Even if I have to pour every part of myself into it, I’ll make sure it knows how precious it is.”

“No. Don’t do that.”

“Delphius?”

Her gaze turned to him, filled with quiet confusion, as if asking, Isn’t this the child you wanted so badly?

That look tightened around his chest.

“…The child matters, but so do you. Take care of yourself too.”

“Why…?”

Before she could finish, Delphius braced a hand against the bed and captured her lips.

He bit down gently on her lower lip, drawing it in before deepening the kiss, slipping past that small opening as though to steal every breath she had.

As he sank into her, he felt her warmth, felt her arms slowly rise, wrapping around his neck.

Her body, soft and yielding, responded to the sudden kiss, melting into his embrace and filling it with quiet heat.

That small movement alone made Delphius’s chest ache.

Afraid that the overwhelming emotions rising within him might spill past his lips, he deepened the kiss with greater care.

“Mm…”

A faint m*an brushed against his lips.

Even without pulling away, he could tell her sound was born of warmth and response.

And that alone was enough to steady him.

What did it matter if Ilenia had fled from a fragment of her memories?

Those were painful memories, ones that served no purpose in keeping her alive.

So let this remain.

Let it stay like this forever.

With that desperate wish, Delphius buried his face against her neck.

Just being able to hold her like this—just feeling her respond—was enough for him to begin imagining a future again.

If Ilenia could smile…
If she could live as she once did…
If she could move and breathe, instead of lying still like a lifeless body…
If she no longer seemed as though she were simply waiting for death—

If she could be happy—

Then Delphius would pay any price.

“…Delphius. I have a favor to ask.”

“What is it?”

“…Delphi.”

For the briefest moment, his brow twitched.

“…May I call you Delphi as well?”

Delphi.

It was the strange nickname Ariella used.

A name she had suddenly begun calling him, as though he were hers to summon.

Though a deep-rooted discomfort stirred within him, his head had already nodded.

“If that’s what you want.”

If Ilenia wished for it… then something as trivial as that nickname could be endured a few more times.

After all, her voice was different from Ariella’s.

Perhaps, hearing it from her, he might even grow accustomed to it.

“If it’s coming from you… then I’ll like it, no matter what.”

“Thank you for allowing it.”

“Did you want to call me that so badly?”

At his question, Ilenia hesitated for a moment before speaking carefully.

“…To be honest, I was always a little envious whenever Lady Calante spoke to you so familiarly. It felt like proof of how close you were… like you shared a bond stronger than what I had with you.”

“Not at all.”

A strong bond with Ariella? If anything, it was a tangled, unpleasant connection—something too messy to even cleanly sever.

Delphius drew a firm line.

“It’s nothing like that. Our families were close, so we naturally came to know each other. That’s all.”

“…Right? You’re my husband, after all.”

Ever since she had fled from those painful memories, Ilenia had become a little more honest than before.

Compared to when she had been shaped by that awkward, rigid upbringing, she now expressed her feelings more openly, sometimes even acting with a disarming ease.

And to Delphius, there was nothing more welcome than this.

After all, this was the version of her he had wanted from the very beginning.

Which only made it harder—far harder—for him to even consider bringing her back to what she once was.

That desire tightened inside him.

Delphius deepened the kiss, more insistent this time.

“Delphius… mm, wait…”

“Why? Does something hurt?”

“No, it’s not that… but our child…”

Her hand moved instinctively to her stomach, cradling the emptiness as though a child truly rested within.

“…It’s alright. The physician said there’s no issue with resuming married life now.”

Just as she had once used her words—he, too, intended to use them to his advantage.

Delphius gently coaxed her closer.

“There’s nothing to worry about.”