“Marie?”
“Is that why you miss the Empire?”
“Because my fiancé refuses to meet me, do you think my time here must be lonely?”
It seemed Psyche had realized what the letter Marie had been organizing was.
Delivering letters from the Cigard Empire to Psyche was Marie’s task. It was only natural that Marie knew who the sender was. Perhaps that’s why she assumed Psyche had looked through it.
“……”
Without a word, Psyche placed the letter back into the drawer. The soft sound of it opening and closing was the only thing that broke the silence.
Perhaps that was answer enough. A sigh soon followed.
“I’m sorry. That was out of line. Please pretend I never said that.”
In truth, this was part of the reason Psyche didn’t feel uncomfortable speaking with Aster.
She was trying not to dwell on what she missed.
Psyche had spilled ink over a corner of her heart, darkening it completely.
It’s important not to forget what you long for—but being consumed by it only leads to obsession.
Covering up past dreams helped Psyche focus on the present. If she lived faithfully in the present, the chance to reach those dreams might eventually come.
“…I do miss it. But I’m adjusting.”
Psyche’s home was now here, in the Grand Duchy.
She had already come too far to remain lost in longing.
She believed she had to stop wasting time on the past and move forward.
“But it’s a shame I had to return so quickly from the outing. I really liked the tea we had at the tea house earlier. It was memorable.”
Trying to lift the heavy mood, Psyche changed the subject.
Marie, who had been watching her carefully, quickly responded.
“Do you remember what kind of tea it was? I’ll inform the kitchen. Even if we don’t have the exact same one, I’ll try to prepare something as close as possible.”
Marie seemed genuinely regretful about the short outing.
But Psyche hadn’t brought up the tea to talk about it—and in fact, the drink she had actually had was simply warm milk with melted chocolate.
Still, she offered the first tea name that came to mind, for Marie’s sake.
“It was ginger tea. Without sugar, it was so spicy my tongue went numb. Ah, I think I smelled cinnamon too.”
That was all she could remember—ginger tea.
Whenever the seasons changed, Psyche always came down with a fever. Her father used to make that tea for her by hand.
‘It used to taste terrible.’
Psyche recalled the way her father would blow on the steaming tea to cool it down for her.
At times like that, he didn’t care about formality—and she could fully feel his affection.
Strangely though, she could no longer remember what kind of expression he had worn in those moments.
As she dwelled on the past, Psyche habitually placed her hand over her collarbone, then brought up what she really wanted to say.
“I have a favor to ask, Marie.”
“Yes, my lady. Please go ahead.”
“I’d like to go out again, as soon as possible. Can you help me?”
Maybe the wind had carried off her scarf, and the necklace chain had snapped in the process.
‘If I return to the tea house, maybe I’ll find it.’
She had definitely made eye contact with Melias the moment she stepped into the tea house.
If she had lost her necklace there, the kindly Melias would likely have held onto it for her.
“Of course, my lady. If you wish, I’ll make arrangements so you can go out again as soon as tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Marie.”
The news of her outing would surely reach the Grand Duke.
But Psyche had no other option.
Losing the necklace had been entirely her fault, so if any trouble arose while retrieving it, she would have to take full responsibility.
—
Time passed quickly, and the moment Psyche feared most each day arrived.
Darkness had completely fallen over the manor, swallowing everything in black.
As her eyes adjusted to the night, she could barely make out shapes—but nothing more.
‘He won’t come again tonight.’
Psyche leaned back against the bed’s headboard and recalled the events of the day.
At some point, she had stopped waiting for the Grand Duke to visit. The past month had brought many internal changes.
But complacency was always the most dangerous thing.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed through the silence.
A sound slipped through the crack beneath the large door—it was faint, like the wind, making it hard to tell if it was footsteps or a breeze.
Creak. The rusted hinges groaned, and the door, which had shown no sign of opening, slowly began to move.
A beam of light pierced through the darkness from the opening, and Psyche blinked, closing her eyes instinctively.
The sudden light left shadows swimming in her vision. Through the fading brightness, a figure entered the room.
Thud.
The heavy door closed behind him, plunging the room into total darkness again.
Creak.
The floor creaked under the weight of someone stepping forward.
“…Your Grace, the Grand Duke?”
Then, soft footsteps pressed down onto the carpet.
With her vision useless, Psyche’s other senses—hearing, smell, and touch—sharpened.
A faint floral scent drifted in. It was the scent of fresh flowers kissed by the morning dew.
The fragrance was so unfamiliar that Psyche mistook it as her own.
But the closer the shadowy figure came, the stronger the scent grew—and she finally realized it was coming from the visitor in the darkness.
Suddenly, she heard a clinking sound.
She turned toward the noise, but could only see a black silhouette moving in the shadows.
Judging from the sound, he seemed to be undoing his cufflinks. The metallic clink of them hitting the table followed.
‘Is he still dressed from going out?’
Before she could think further, the bed shifted slightly—he had sat beside her.
Psyche gripped the blanket in her fingers more tightly.
This was the bedchamber of the ducal couple.
The only one besides Psyche allowed here was the Grand Duke. Naturally, the one who had entered must be him.
But surrounded by such complete darkness, fear crept up on her.
Though she didn’t believe the rumors, stories that the Grand Duke looked like a monster felt more real in this moment.
“If you truly are His Grace, please answer me. It’s been a long time since our engagement vow, and only now do you visit me—I want to confirm whether you really are the master of this castle.”
Psyche had no right to demand anything. Even if this unknown visitor replied, there was no way to know if he was the real Duke.
Their relationship was clearly that of superior and subordinate. Her demands would not be granted.
But to her, a married couple wasn’t supposed to be like that. A true partnership was one where both stood as equals, looking in the same direction with mutual respect.
Even if the Grand Duke was a monster, it didn’t matter much to her. So what if he was?
Of course… she would be afraid at first, but as long as he didn’t harm her, it wouldn’t matter. Th
ere was no situation worse than what she already faced.
She swallowed hard.
“…Are you scolding me now, Lady Psyche?”
A deep, low voice cut through the pitch-black room.
