Chapter 8
As he had said before, the “perfect ducal life” Valderion envisioned naturally included marriage—one of life’s greatest obligations.
Part of that carefully drawn blueprint was his engagement to the House of Floyden, a connection established since childhood and solidified over many years.
If people discovered he had found his Name counterpart, this arrangement would be the first thing thrown into chaos.
If the connection turned out to be one-sided anyway, there would be no reason for the matter to surface at all.
For now—
Keeping it hidden was better.
“Poor Lirette…”
Resting his chin on one hand, Dailen murmured as he watched clear water stream down with soft, crystalline sounds.
Beneath lowered lashes, his languid blue eyes remained impossible to read.
“Well, fine.”
The next moment, amusement gleamed brightly within them.
“Since it’s the wish of my dear little friend, I’ll grant it.”
He smiled.
“But I have one condition.”
“A condition?”
“If, after one year, Lirette’s Name does not manifest toward you—return her to me.”
Valderion’s brow furrowed unconsciously.
“…Return her?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Do I need a reason?”
“……”
“She was mine to begin with.”
What kind of whim is this now?
Then again—
Nothing Dailen ever did had made sense.
Hadn’t he been the one who tossed Lirette away saying, She’s yours now—take her?
And yet here he was.
Changing his words again.
Still, Valderion had long since learned not to challenge him.
The Crown Prince was exhausting enough without taking him seriously.
“If her Name never manifests, she’ll be useless to you anyway.”
At Dailen’s addition, Valderion unexpectedly remembered Lirette’s overly sensitive reactions.
A beat later—
He wondered why he was even thinking about her.
Rather than answering aloud, he simply nodded once.
The atmosphere between them remained subtly frozen.
Like winter itself had seeped into the room.
* * *
Several days later.
Valderion had been occupied with official affairs since early morning when an unexpected report from the butler pulled him from his office.
Just as he had felt during his conversation with Dailen—
The air still carried traces of lingering frost.
And on a winter day like this—
A guest arriving unannounced.
He had already been informed who it was.
Valderion couldn’t decide which concerned him more:
The breach of etiquette—
Or the possibility that she had somehow learned something about his situation.
“Lady Floyden.”
Inside the reception room, the woman dressed in an ivory gown adorned with sapphire decorations lifted her head immediately.
Her citrus-colored hair, flowing down to her waist, swayed with the movement.
Gathering her skirts, Camille rose gracefully.
“Have you been well?”
“Of course, Duke.”
She smiled brightly.
“I only worry that my sudden visit may have surprised you.”
Valderion curved his lips slightly and walked to the seat opposite her.
When expressionless, his features could seem as cold as frost.
But because he was naturally handsome, the slightest smile changed everything.
Apparently, even his fiancée was not immune.
Camille couldn’t take her eyes off him as he approached.
“You haven’t contacted me since the last banquet,” she said softly. “So I came despite the discourtesy.”
Her expression—worried she might inconvenience him—was almost excessively charming.
There was a reason she dominated high society.
Camille knew exactly how to appear lovable.
And that—
That was one reason Valderion continued the engagement.
If she were to become Duchess Eustutia someday—
She needed to command society effortlessly.
The last banquet.
That would have been a week before Dailen summoned him to the Imperial Palace.
Meaning—
From the moment the banquet ended, Lirette entered his life.
And things had become busy ever since.
“His Highness even sent us a gift.”
“A gift?”
“Tea from a foreign merchant group visiting the Empire. Apparently it’s famous—made only from ingredients found in certain regions there.”
Camille smiled.
“He attached a letter saying he hoped we would enjoy it together and grow closer.”
So it hadn’t simply been impulse.
There was intention behind it.
Dailen is meddling again.
Valderion crossed his legs.
“His Highness truly pays attention even to small details.”
Camille visibly relaxed.
Then she brightened.
“Ah— I heard there’s a glass conservatory here.”
“There is.”
“Would you like to drink tea there together?”
Valderion rose smoothly.
“The path to the conservatory is outdoors. It’ll be cold.”
“That’s alright.”
Camille smiled brightly.
She looked full of life.
For one fleeting instant—
Valderion remembered another woman.
One who only ever looked pale.
The thought vanished as quickly as it came.
And by the time he took his next step—
It was gone.
Meanwhile—
Lirette pressed her palm against the cold window.
The icy glass bit into her skin without mercy.
Her dull eyes stared outside.
Then—
Something entered her field of view.
A man and woman walking through the garden together after emerging from the eastern wing.
The woman was unfamiliar.
The man wasn’t.
The master of this estate.
The owner of this bedroom.
And—
The owner of the name branded into her back.
Even from afar, they looked close.
The noblewoman clung naturally to his side, chattering endlessly like a cheerful songbird.
Even at this distance, Lirette could see Valderion smiling occasionally in response.
They suited each other.
That much alone was enough.
So he had a fiancée.
Among nobles, marriage was less romance and more expansion.
Families joined with families.
Power grew.
Preparations began young.
Engagements were merely the foundation.
And for a house as powerful as Eustutia—
Such preparations would have been even more thorough.
Come to think of it…
Still touching the glass, Lirette glanced behind herself.
Since arriving here—
She had barely seen servants.
Not even physicians.
Everything had been handled either directly by Valderion—
Or by the butler acting under his orders.
As she considered how isolated everything felt—
Realization struck.
He’s hiding me.
There still wasn’t a word to define them.
Their relationship remained uncertain.
And for one year—
As he had said—
It would continue to remain uncertain.
Until they learned whether this cruel joke of fate was mutual—
Or one-sided.
If mutual, things would be different.
But if not—
He had promised not to interfere wherever she chose to go.
Which really meant—
He would cast her out.
And until he gained certainty that future was possible—
The Duke intended to hide her from the world.
Completely.
“……”
Her gaze slowly lowered.
When she moved her ankle—
Clank.
The shackle announced its existence heavily.
Lirette slowly blinked.
Within Valderion’s flawless plans—
She needed plans of her own.
And first—
She needed this removed.
There was only one key.
“How can I make you take this off?”
That evening—
When Valderion entered the bedroom, Lirette asked directly.
It had been some time since his last visit.
Ever since the day their arguments escalated into an actual struggle.
The question stopped him before he even sat down.
He looked over Lirette’s resolute face.
Then laughed quietly.
“You may as well ask a cat to guard fish.”
“I won’t run away.”
He had initially ignored her.
Now—
Holding the back of the sofa, he finally looked properly at her.
“I understand now.”
Her voice stayed calm.
“I understand what condition I’m in.”
“And what I truly need.”
For once—
She looked like someone accepting reality.
Her lowered eyes made her appear docile.
Compared to the girl who usually glared as though she wanted to tear him apart—
Or answered back endlessly—
This version of her felt unfamiliar.
Leaning sideways against the sofa, Valderion glanced toward her ankle.
Then at her posture.
Unsteady.
Several days had passed—
Yet her condition had worsened.
His expression hardened automatically.
“Do you really understand?”
He sat down.
“There’s a saying.”
His hand reached toward the cravat neatly tied around his neck.
“That a Name is a thread between souls.”
He loosened it.
“A bond connecting two people.”
“……”
“If the Name becomes mutual…”
He pulled the cravat free completely.
“Our conditions resonate.”
Resonate?
Lirette tilted her head.
Valderion dropped the cravat carelessly to the floor.
Staring at the wrinkled cloth—
His voice lowered.
“If your health becomes unstable—”
“I’m affected too.”
“……”
“If you suffer—”
“I suffer.”
Slowly—
He lifted his gaze.
Their eyes met.
“If you die—”
His golden eyes held hers steadily.
“Then I die too.”
