Chapter 10
No matter how many times she went through it, it was a trial she couldn’t grow accustomed to—a grueling stretch of endurance that always felt impossibly long.
This man had to be suffering through it too.
Yet unlike her, he looked far too relaxed, and that casual composure pressed unpleasantly against some fragile part of her nerves.
It felt like she was getting dragged along.
Like she was losing.
Lilet carefully smoothed out her expression, pretending she wasn’t affected either. It wasn’t easy.
“Why are you tense? This isn’t your first or second time.”
“I’m not tense—”
“You’re sweating.”
“……”
“It’s unpleasant. You’re all clammy.”
Though already a fully grown man, he complained like a sulking five-year-old child.
Lilet was well aware of the sticky dampness that formed whenever they pressed together like this, but she feigned ignorance.
“It’s not because I’m nervous.”
“Then how do you explain the sweat?”
“Why are you assuming I’m the cause?”
“Then is it my fault?”
“Maybe your hands are too hot, Duke.”
Valderion laughed in disbelief before shaking his head.
“I’ll take that to mean I’m passionate in all things.”
“That’s an overly optimistic interpretation.”
“If you know how passionate I’m being, then at least make an effort to keep up.”
How much more was she supposed to match his pace?
Lilet swallowed the sigh rising out of habit.
Thirty minutes still remained. There was no need to sour his mood already.
Especially not today.
Not when, like that night she had asked for the shackles to be removed, she still needed him to show mercy.
Holding hands.
When simply imagined, it sounded insignificant.
In reality, it felt different.
There were things she became acutely aware of through all five senses.
The size difference that reminded her the palm pressed against hers belonged to a man.
The warmth seeping in—sometimes cool, sometimes hot—as though proving they were different people.
And the undeniable sensation that part of her body was connected to someone else’s.
When she thought through each detail one by one, it no longer felt like something trivial.
“If we hold hands like this, does it last about a day afterward?”
Watching the small, delicate hand that twitched every time he tightened his grip, unable to hide how every joint reacted, Valderion asked.
Lilet nodded.
As he guessed, enduring these thirty minutes of agony bought her about one day of freedom—one day where her fingers could move without stiffening.
Ever since obtaining a Name, she had learned that a day was far shorter than she’d once believed.
Whenever her joints began tightening again, as if her nerves were knotting themselves together, she realized two things:
That the duke would soon visit her bedroom.
And that another day had already passed.
“When I touched your back, how long did it last?”
He said back, but it wasn’t hard to understand what he truly meant.
His name.
Beautifully embroidered across her skin.
“About… a week.”
The difference was tragically obvious.
Perhaps he’d reached the same conclusion, because Valderion fell silent in thought before suddenly curling his fingers.
The scrape against her palm made Lilet shudder violently.
Without thinking, she yanked her tangled hand away.
When she looked up, he wore an expression that seemed to ask whether something this minor truly warranted such a reaction.
Only then did she notice.
The bottom half of the hourglass was full.
Whenever thirty minutes ended and it was time to separate, he always played these unpleasant little games.
“So you react this much. Touching your Name directly must be impossible.”
Today felt less like teasing and more like testing her reaction.
Neither option made it any less irritating.
Flexing her fingers repeatedly as sensation slowly returned, Lilet shifted about a handspan farther away.
“I have something to ask.”
“What is it?”
Valderion had just taken a sip of water after finishing their obligatory routine when he turned toward her with mild curiosity.
“Is there a library in this building?”
“Why?”
“I want to read.”
“……”
“There’s nothing to do here.”
Judging from what she’d observed so far, this clearly wasn’t the main residence where the duke normally lived.
Ever since her shackles were removed and her range of movement widened, Lilet had spent countless days leaning against doors and listening to the outside world.
This place was so deserted it could almost be mistaken for an abandoned house.
For a ducal estate of this size, there should have been servants everywhere.
Yet aside from the butler, she saw no one.
And considering she had once seen Valderion appear from the garden before coming inside, he likely crossed over from the main residence whenever he visited.
In other words—
This building existed solely to imprison and monitor her.
A comfortable prison.
If the entire place had been emptied for that purpose, then surely moving freely within it should be allowed.
“This concerns you, Duke, but it concerns me too.”
“……”
“If there’s something I can discover myself, I want to try.”
“And you think the library is the answer?”
Valderion rubbed his temple like a man faced with something bothersome.
“My aide has already gathered every piece of information someone at your level could find and reported it to me.”
“…Even so.”
“……”
“It’s better than sitting in my room all day doing nothing.”
This prison had everything she needed.
But no matter how luxurious it was, a prison remained a prison.
Tying ribbons around iron bars and decorating them beautifully didn’t change what they truly were.
Day after day trapped here, Lilet felt parts of herself drying out inside.
The imperial palace, where she had lived with Dailan, had been painful.
This place, however, felt empty.
Hollow.
“If you still think I’ll run away, assign someone to watch me.”
“……”
“I’ve said this so many times already. I know now that running away won’t solve anything.”
Valderion looked conflicted.
Likely weighing whether granting permission would somehow disadvantage him.
Lilet desperately hoped he’d acknowledge that ever since the shackles came off, she had behaved.
Quietly.
Without causing problems.
“Fine.”
“……”
“But the butler accompanies you.”
It wasn’t complete freedom.
Still, it was something.
“The library is at the end of the second-floor corridor.”
“……”
“Though even if you tear the place apart, I doubt you’ll find anything useful.”
Unlike his skepticism, Lilet clung tightly to a small piece of hope.
The information he shared with her had always been fragmented.
And always centered around Valderion—the precious heir, the noble bloodline.
Not around her.
There was still so much she needed to learn about Names.
The next day.
Lilet headed to the library with the butler.
“This annex is rarely used, so it’s become somewhat untidy.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Dust drifted visibly through the air, disturbed from bookshelves and desks left neglected for years.
Lilet coughed quietly and waved away the floating particles.
“Are you searching for anything specific?”
“I’ll look myself.”
Leaving the butler behind, she wandered between shelves.
Unlike her hands, which received treatment, her legs did not.
Each step made her limp as though she’d twisted an ankle.
Swallowing down the familiar pain, she focused on choosing books.
She returned to her room carrying armfuls.
Stacking them on the table before the sofa, she searched tirelessly.
Just as Valderion predicted.
Nothing useful appeared.
She moved on to medical texts.
Because Names were so rare, even books that mentioned them dedicated barely a page.
There really isn’t much new information.
Exhausted, Lilet rested her head on the table.
Rarity always came with scarce information.
Few cases meant poor samples.
Poor samples meant slow research.
As far as she knew, Names were exactly that kind of phenomenon.
People didn’t call them the gods’ cruel joke for no reason.
Names stood awkwardly between reality and fantasy.
And honestly—
How could any of this feel realistic?
That two strangers who had never known each other yesterday could suddenly become bound by an invisible thread through a single name.
Reduced to miserable beings incapable of surviving without one another.
It really is a curse…
With her cheek pressed sideways against the table, Lilet stared blankly into space.
But it was too early to give up.
The annex library might have been old and poorly maintained, but its collection was extensive.
Soon, visiting twice a day became routine.
Perhaps the butler reported all her efforts to Valderion.
She no longer cared.
Today, while massaging her aching calves, she looked through another stack.
There was something pitiful about suffering from a Name while desperately researching Names.
Still.
Today she found something useful.
A book written by an overseas scholar named Parve.
Unlike others, he had personally experienced a Name.
Where most books dedicated a single page, this one had three or four.
Lilet quickly scanned through the text.
Some things she already knew.
Some things were new but unsurprising.
Then—
As she turned the page—
Her eyes froze.
“Individuals who manifest a one-sided Name—without the existence of a connected counterpart—rarely survive beyond five years after manifestation.”
