“Just tell it as it is.”

“As it is…?”

“Yes. That you were the one who published the etiquette book under the pen name Dunlop.”

“But, Your Highness—this is a sensitive time. This is a serious matter. In Baron Cohen, impersonating a noble is a grave crime.”

“I know, Henrietta.”

Compared to her breathless urgency, Hendrick’s reply was calm—almost gentle. He reached out and softly brushed aside the strands of hair that had fallen across her forehead.

Henrietta slowly closed her eyes. Everything was happening so suddenly that she wasn’t even sure she was breathing properly anymore.

“If you’re caught hiding it, then it becomes impersonation. But if you step forward and reveal it first… it can become an act of honoring Dunlop.”

‘Is that really possible? Can something like that truly happen? And even if it does… will you really be alright?’

“All you need to do is add that you used another name because the imperial family did not permit it at the time.”

“But—!”

“Don’t worry. If someone of low status uses a noble’s name, that’s impersonation. But if someone of royal blood borrows a noble’s name… it can be seen as an honor to that family.”

“….”

“And there’s a world of difference between revealing it yourself… and having it exposed by someone else.”

Only then did Henrietta begin to understand Hendrick’s intentions.

The Duke of Schutzman was relentless—and powerful. If he chose to act, the fact that Dunlop was already dead would hardly be an obstacle.

She didn’t want to think this way, but… for Robert, fabricating a witness would not be difficult at all.

“You understand now.”

Hendrick smiled, as though praising a clever student.

Feeling oddly self-conscious, Henrietta averted her gaze slightly.

“Yes… I understand. You’re saying it’s safer if we move first—before anyone else does.”

“That’s right.”

“Even so… the book was published a long time ago. Back then, I wasn’t your wife yet.”

“The order of things isn’t all that important, Henrietta.”

For a moment, a different kind of silence fell over the room. Even the sunlight seemed to pale.

‘Cough.’

From a corner, a servant who had been standing like a statue let out a small, awkward cough.

“More than anything… I have no intention of hiding you. If my wife possesses such remarkable talent, then I want to show it off to the entire world.”

“….”

“And if the book has already been displayed at the Lorenzo Salon, then it’s already gained credibility, hasn’t it?”

Just moments ago, the fact that her book had appeared at the Lorenzo Salon had felt like the worst possible outcome. Yet somehow, he had turned it into an opportunity.

‘Has he always been like this? Is that why he dared to bring someone like me—someone so risky—into his life? Why do you only become harder to understand the more I learn about you…?’

“Anyway, this calls for congratulations.”

Hendrick extended his hand toward Mark.

“What do you mean, Your Highness?”

A prince offering a handshake—Mark, caught off guard, hesitantly took his hand.

“Of course it’s something to celebrate—for you. Thanks to your old friend, you’re about to come into a fortune.”

Hendrick smiled brightly as he shook his hand.

The deal was sealed.

***

Hendrick remained silent during the carriage ride home.

After watching him for a while, Henrietta turned her gaze towards the darkened streets of Sandot.

Her mind was crowded with thoughts until, strangely, it suddenly felt completely empty.

Rainwater had gathered on the uneven road, and as the carriage picked up speed, it lurched suddenly.

“After the Pearson Festival ends, I plan to stage a play centered around Bishop Thomason.”

Henrietta slowly turned her head and met Hendrick’s gaze.

His blue eyes, untouched by failure, were fixed on her.

At moments like this, she always found herself wondering…

‘Will there ever come a time when this man’s face breaks under the weight of his own emotions? Will those steady blue eyes ever tremble like a ship caught in a storm?’

Her gaze drifted past him, lingering somewhere behind his back.

‘Could there be such a thing as a guardian without wings…?’

“A play…?”

She no longer even had the strength to be surprised by what Hendrick was saying. Overwhelmed—that was the only way to describe how she felt.

‘Bishop Thomason… becoming a Protestanto.’

Although she had never witnessed a miracle nor lived her life expecting one, deep down she must have believed that Protestantism was a divine gift.

The outcome had not yet been decided, yet she could still not imagine Hendrick failing.

Everything he had done until now had come so easily to him that saving her from drowning felt like the simplest thing in the world.

“Not everyone can read, after all.”

The wingless guardian smiled.

A guardian of indescribable beauty.

A guardian who had saved her from every danger.

A guardian who could lift her to the very edge of the sky — and yet one who would someday leave her behind.

She wanted to ask.

‘When will that day come? When will the man who wagered everything on a risk as great as Henrietta… finally discard his hand?’

“That would be… really wonderful.”

As the carriage left Sandot Street and turned onto the main road, the loud rattling gradually died down.

Whenever Hendrick spoke to her, it felt as though they were the only people in the world.

For some reason, that made her heart ache.

She couldn’t tell whether she wanted to hold onto that feeling or run from it.

It was a feeling she had never experienced before.

Hendrick reached out and gently caressed her cheek.

“What thoughts have you so deeply occupied?”

“…What?”

“I was wondering what you could be thinking to make such an expression.”

“It’s nothing… just this and that.”

Henrietta pressed her cheek lightly and forced a smile.

She had a feeling that she must have looked rather pitiful at that moment.

She had never learnt how to smile naturally while hiding what was going on inside her.

“And how did you come to attempt something so bold?”

Hendrick spread his fingers and cupped the back of her neck.

His thumb brushed slowly along the edge of her lips; it was a touch heavy with emotions she couldn’t quite name.

The ‘bold act’ he had mentioned was the publication of the etiquette book.

Henrietta looked away quietly.

Although she had never felt ashamed of what she had done, she did now.

She didn’t want him to know.

“It wasn’t so much bold as it was… desperate. I needed money. I couldn’t stay at the Schutzman estate forever.”

For a fleeting moment—so brief she almost thought she imagined it—his hand stilled.

“Since when have you been thinking that?”

“…Thinking what?”

“About leaving the Schutzman estate.”

Henrietta paused, considering the question.

‘Since when…?’

“Probably…”

Looking back on it, it had always been that way.

Ever since she stole Robert’s kiss in the garden while the banquet was still in full swing.

Henrietta had entered into that love affair knowing how it would end.

And that never changed.

At every turn, Robert reminded her of that ending.

Only, the ending he envisaged and the one she foresaw were never the same.

Ultimately, they both loved each other without ever truly giving themselves away.

That was why she had never once been able to say ‘I love you’.

Now that she thought about it, the hesitation and unspoken love had not belonged to Robert alone.

Henrietta had been just as cowardly.

Perhaps even more so.

“…I think it’s been about two years.”

As memories of her past love resurfaced, Henrietta finally realized what had been making her sad all this time.

She had begun to want more: This man before her and the place beside him.

Compared to the love she had once had with Robert — a love she had entered into knowing she would leave — this felt almost absurd.

The feelings she had buried deep within herself were slowly beginning to resurface.

‘Why had I tried so desperately to hide the existence of that etiquette book?’

She had known the answer all along.

The problem that had kept her awake for three nights was not even worth worrying about, according to Hendrick.

At the very least, she hadn’t wanted to be his weakness.

But that feeling had never been anything more than desire.

Even though she knew her efforts might mean little to him, she didn’t want to be abandoned.

She was afraid. She was restless, as if she might break at any moment. She wanted his affection to remain with her, even if it would one day scatter like dust, if only for a little while longer.

He had given her the right to choose how it would end.

So perhaps…

If she could prove her value to him, she might be allowed to hold on just a little longer.