Chapter 10
If things went on like this, it really would turn into a kissing mood—so Shai lifted her hand to block Benjamin’s lips. A man’s warm breath clung faintly to her fingers.
“Please remember that I’ve lost my memory. To me, we’re still practically strangers.”
“I see.”
The man stepped back without resistance. Shai tried to smile as if she weren’t flustered, but her insides told a different story.
This man… dangerous. He’s quick with his hands in a subtle way. Sure, we’re married, and he still remembers everything, so maybe some skinship feels natural to him—but my heart is still pounding like crazy!
“Please… approach me a little more slowly.”
At that, the man’s crimson eyes wavered deeply.
His eyes burn like bright flames… Come to think of it, his nickname was the Grand Duke of Ice and Blood.
It might have been a name given because of his eye color.
It’s not a common color, but enough for such a nickname? He probably doesn’t care either way.
His crimson eyes were framed delicately by black lashes. Unlike those fiery irises, his face was as smooth as ice.
I want to touch his face.
The thought sprang up suddenly, making her feel embarrassed. She clasped her own hands together and rubbed them a few times. That kind of touch was only possible between people who were close.
And hadn’t she just told him to approach slowly?
Being drawn to someone is one of the most dangerous things.
Shai got along well with everyone, but there were few she truly let into her heart. She had realized early on that once she opened her heart, she wanted to shower that person with affection and clinginess—so she was always careful.
She didn’t want to be hurt again. Not like with her father or her brother.
“If that’s what you want, I’ll do so.”
Benjamin answered readily and stepped back. The distance felt a little disappointing, but it was more simple emptiness than anything born of affection.
Silence settled again. Just as both were about to speak—
Knock, knock.
A polite, crisp voice rang out from outside.
“Your Grace, the scheduled meeting time has come.”
Benjamin’s face briefly hardened as he checked the time, then returned to calm indifference.
“It’s already that late. I’ll take care of business and come back to see you.”
“Yes, with such diligence, you’ll be a model to everyone.”
It was a stock phrase of politeness, but Benjamin smiled faintly.
There’s nothing that catches a person’s attention more than the moment a face changes from shadowed to bright.
“Then, I’ll be going.”
“Yes, take care.”
As Shai started to rise, Benjamin gently pressed her shoulder with his hand, making her lean back against the sofa.
“Please rest comfortably. I want to see you recovered soon.”
“Yes.”
In the end, Shai remained reclining as she watched him leave.
That man is now my husband.
As she took in the sight of his back, she repeated the thought once more in her mind.
Benjamin gone, Shai rested her head against the sofa a little longer—not because her head hurt, but because…
His touch was still awkward to her, though not entirely unpleasant.
Still… it felt strange.
Even if someone told her that the Grand Duke, whom she’d only seen from afar on rare occasions, was now her husband, without her memories he was still just another man.
That might have been why his kindness felt both exciting and awkward.
And yet, it was nice.
What woman wouldn’t like it when an attractive man showed interest in her?
“No matter how much I think about it, I just can’t get used to it.”
They were married. He was her husband.
He had a blunt, cold air about him, but was also polite and well-mannered. And he treated her with what seemed to be sincere consideration.
It’s a given I should be treated this way, but maybe I’m so restless because Father always treated me with humiliation.
She almost forgot her original goal, dazzled by the Grand Duke’s unfamiliar yet warm kindness.
But right now, the one she needed to watch most carefully wasn’t him—it was her father.
After her mother died, she had seen her father’s dual nature with her own eyes.
The man she had thought was merely curt had revealed his true temperament, stripping away all her standing within the household. On top of that, he completely controlled her schedule and activities.
At first, she’d misunderstood it as him trying to protect her. He had never been affectionate, but suddenly he paid attention to her daily affairs, telling her which gatherings she should attend and which to avoid. He even placed handpicked maids around her.
Thinking she was receiving long-withheld fatherly affection—especially while still grieving her mother—Shai had obeyed without question.
But over time, that hope crumbled completely.
She realized she was nothing more than a puppet, unable to choose even the smallest thing for herself.
The ones who came with me as personal maids were Betty, Jacqueline, and Dera, weren’t they?
They had also been her father’s chosen personal maids back in the Count Alrantra’s household—people who acted according to his orders.
Shai despised them.
They took pleasure in the fact that they could control the Count’s legitimate daughter, never bothering to hide it. They were the ones who constantly trampled on her pride.
Did they play the same role here?
If so, then all her unruly behavior in the Grand Duke’s household would have been reported back to her father.
But if he cared so much about appearances, why hadn’t he punished her at all?
She decided to check the letters and invitations she’d received so far. They might not all still be intact, but perhaps there would be a clue to this situation.
She rose and opened the large crystal-carved letter box on a luxurious white table embossed with a swan.
As she sorted through the invitations and letters, she found a dark-colored envelope. From the writing on it, it was from one of the Grand Duke’s vassal families. Such letters were common courtesy, so nothing unusual there—
Until she opened it.
Inside was a letter written in Count Alrantra’s own handwriting.
It was short—inquiring after her health and hoping she would behave appropriately.
But the closing lines read:
Spring is in full bloom now. The long-closed garden is finally being repaired, so soon it will be filled with flowers.
Shai read the letter with narrowed, suspicious eyes.
The Count was not the type to speak gently to her about gardens and flowers.
He was Rucaldo’s father. He had never truly been hers.
He liked appearances, so he might add meaningless pleasantries to a letter bound for the Grand Duke’s household.
But the reason she couldn’t take her eyes off that sentence was because her past self had left a mark there.
Just one sentence—she didn’t know when she had written it.
But the handwriting was unmistakably hers, and she had pressed so hard that the paper was dented.
Do you even know how to let something be?
She had no idea what it meant, but the fierce anger embedded in the short phrase was palpable.
She couldn’t remember, but ironically, because it was her own hand, she understood.
When she had seethed at their cruelty in the past, she would pour her feelings into writing until the pen nib nearly snapped.
What could have made her this furious?
There was only one closed garden in the Count’s estate. The estate consisted of a main building and two annexes; one garden was in the Rahinoel annex, a place her ailing mother had loved dearly.
It was also the only thing she truly owned there.
While her mother was alive, she had expressed her strong wish to leave that annex to Shai, so ownership had passed to her.
But her father was not the sort to let something he considered his be kept by a daughter he didn’t cherish.
Right after her mother’s death, William—her father—had closed the annex garden. Before long, the once-beautiful garden was overrun with weeds and untrimmed trees.
Had she written that scathing line because of his hypocrisy—destroying her treasured garden, then talking about “repairs”?
Yet somehow, that didn’t feel like the whole story.
If she hadn’t wanted the letter discovered, it would have made more sense to burn it, not just swap the envelope.
So why had she kept her anger intact like this?
The letter showed signs of having been taken out many times.
She must have wanted not to forget this feeling.
But what had made her vow so fiercely? She had no memory of it.
Her love–hate for her father was complicated.
She knew she felt contempt and hatred for him, yet there was also an unfulfilled craving for his affection.
She wanted desperately to escape him, yet longed for even a single kind glance.
Maybe it was because of that excruciating, twisted feeling that I scribbled this and couldn’t throw it away.
With the maids watching her, maybe all she could do was the childish act of swapping envelopes rather than destroying it.
Nothing’s clear yet… I shouldn’t act rashly.
With that thought, Shai folded the letter neatly and put it back into the swapped envelope. After closing the crystal lid, she pulled the bell cord.
Rosa appeared promptly.
Shai spoke to her gently.
“Bring me my jewelry box.”
“Which one would you like me to bring?”
Shai chuckled at that.
“Do the jewelry boxes have numbers?”
Given how much she had apparently bought, it was entirely possible she owned several. Rosa replied seriously,
“Yes. Some of them even have names.”
