I awkwardly smiled and nodded.
“Then please convey my gratitude to the Duke for not forgetting to send the grapes. Thanks to the preservation magic, they arrive in perfect condition, and I enjoy them very much.”
“I will.”
Marchioness Wickley smiled warmly in appreciation. Just as in our first meeting, her hair was neatly tied up without a single strand out of place. With her poised posture and intelligent gaze, she exuded the grace and dignity befitting someone from a noble lineage—elegant and refined, like a lily.
‘Someone like her would be far more suited to be the Duchess than me.’
Surprised by my own thoughts, I swallowed hard.
Was I really belittling myself? The sleepless night spent worrying had clearly taken its toll.
I sighed deeply, sinking into contemplation.
Last night’s kiss with Edmund made me realize something—despite my past assurances that my feelings were insignificant, I actually liked him a great deal.
How embarrassing that it took a kiss for me to understand my own heart. My body was far too honest.
Letting out a hollow laugh, I stared blankly at my teacup.
But reality remained.
I was not fit to be a Duchess.
My family was a nouveau riche household with a shallow lineage. I had a scandalous divorce history and a negative reputation. As one of the few women who had inherited a title, conservative nobles likely saw me as an unwelcome anomaly.
It was obvious that the vassals of the Mipedian family would oppose me as well. Owning the Lebron Mine might give me some leverage, but they were not desperate. They would undoubtedly prefer a brilliant, well-mannered noblewoman.
If I were to marry, I would have to relinquish my title. Letting go of the honor my father left behind and the mark of victory I had seized from Devon was not an easy choice.
Yet, none of these were reasons for my hesitation. Edmund must have already considered all of this when he confessed.
The real problem lay within me.
Having failed once, I was terrified of loving someone again.
I never showed it. I forced myself to act as if I was fine.
‘No man would ever truly love someone like you!’
Devon’s final words had lodged themselves in my heart like a dagger, embedding a curse deep within me. A curse that made me doubt and hesitate, even in the face of sincere and affectionate love.
So, when it came to relationships, I convinced myself that keeping a safe emotional distance was enough.
I spent the night trying to break the curse, reassuring myself over and over. Edmund was different. He would never cheat or deceive me like a coward. But then, hadn’t I once thought the same about Devon?
‘Pathetic.’
A sharp gust of wind seemed to scrape against my face, making my nose sting. I quickly took a sip of my tea. The warmth sliding down my throat soothed me.
When I looked up, Marchioness Wickley was smiling kindly over her teacup.
She chuckled softly and cupped her teacup with both hands.
“You look troubled, Countess.”
“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”
“Really?”
Despite my clear refusal, I regretted missing the chance to ask her. I had no one to turn to for advice on relationships—except for her, a woman with years of marital experience.
After hesitating for a moment, I put down my teacup. I licked my dry lips and spoke.
“Marchioness Wickley, this is about a friend of mine…”
She raised her eyebrows slightly, lowering her cup halfway to her lips. By the time I finished speaking, she was twitching her upper lip.
“Marchioness Wickley?”
Then, she suddenly burst into hearty laughter. Her usual upright posture faltered for the first time, and a maid standing in the corner widened her eyes in shock.
Embarrassed, I felt my face heat up.
‘Oh no, she knows it’s about me.’
Well, most ‘friend stories’ were just veiled personal confessions, weren’t they?
I had known she would figure it out.
Wiping away a tear, she looked at me as if I were a child just learning to walk.
“It sounds like a confession to me. He should have been the one to hear it, not me.”
“A confession?”
Me? Stunned, my eyes wavered. When I made a dumbfounded expression, she laughed, crinkling the corners of her eyes.
“You’re saying that as long as you’re with him, you can endure anything—but the thought of parting from him terrifies you.”
“…”
It felt like I had been struck in the back of the head. I stared at her, bewildered.
“If your ‘friend’ were here, I’d tell them this: giving up on someone precious out of fear of an uncertain future is foolish. And that curse? It has already been broken.”
“Broken…?”
I instinctively refuted her words.
The curse was still there. My hesitation proved it.
Marchioness Wickley gazed at me steadily, a gentle smile forming on her lips.
“You have a man who truly loves you. Isn’t that proof that the curse is gone?”
Her final words echoed in my mind. She had resolved my worries in an instant.
She was right. Every single word.
The one who had been holding me back was not Devon’s curse—it was me, trapped in the past.
When Edmund confessed, I had arrogantly assumed he wasn’t afraid of being hurt. But had he really been so fearless? Wasn’t it possible he had hesitated just as much as I had?
And yet, here I was, letting my past nearly push him away.
As my vision blurred with tears, Marchioness Wickley slid a handkerchief across the table.
“Before I married, I had feelings for someone too. But, of course, my family opposed it. He was just a stable hand.”
Her calm gaze floated over her teacup as if reminiscing about the past.
“It was a foolish, fleeting love. I’m content with my life now, but sometimes, I miss that time. Not the man, but the person I was back then.”
She lifted a finger elegantly, as if to prevent any misunderstanding, then chuckled.
She had shared this story to comfort me, to stop my tears. I wiped my eyes and smiled gratefully.
Marchioness Wickley smiled back.
“Do you think your ‘friend’ will find their answer?”
“Probably.”
“That’s an uncertain answer. Well, if they’re unsure, tell them this: the closest thing to the right answer is honesty.”
“……”
“That’s the closest way to the correct answer.”
When I returned to the mansion, Rail greeted me with a bright smile. Since I had sent word through a maid that I couldn’t return to the dinner due to a slight fever, it must have been confusing when I disappeared early in the morning. Of course, I had left a message with the maid, but still.
‘Oh no, I didn’t even show up at breakfast, so I didn’t get to greet Lilien…’
“Where’s Lilien?”
“She was worrying about you until just a moment ago, then headed to the training hall. Miss said she would skip class, but Marie persuaded her to go.”
“I see. Marie really does a lot.”
I felt a little guilty for making Lilien worry.
“She’ll be back this evening. I’m sure she’d be happy if you welcome her then.”
Rail, noticing the expression on my face, kindly encouraged me. I smiled to thank him and went straight toward my room.
Rail let out a sound like he had just remembered something, but my feet were already climbing the stairs.
‘Well, I can hear whatever it is later.’
Or so I thought…
“You’re finally back.”
A sudden voice startled me.
Edmund stood leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed. The way he looked at me was slightly crooked, and his dry expression made him look a little worn out.
“…Why are you here? Didn’t you go back to the duchy today?”
“I’ve been busy worrying about someone who vanished since morning.”
His reply came instantly and carried a sharp edge. Feeling guilty, I gave an awkward laugh.
“I told one of the maids. Maybe she didn’t pass on the message.”
Sigh. Edmund ran a hand through his hair and let out a weary sigh. The deep relief in his lowered eyes tugged at my heart.
His silky hair slipped through his fingers like a ribbon.
“I heard. But…”
His voice was hoarse as he frowned.
“I thought you might have run away.”
“Me…?”
I instinctively looked toward my bedroom. The door was slightly open. A chill spread across my back at the strange feeling. It was a different emotion from love—disappointment toward someone who didn’t respect me.
I looked up at him with a colder expression than before.
“You didn’t search my room to check, did you?”
“I almost did.”
Almost did? My eyebrow twitched. Edmund let out a short laugh and held out a box.
It was the box that once held the pledge stone he had given me.
“When I saw it kept by your bedside like it was precious, I didn’t.”
His words sounded like he was projecting himself onto the stone. As if, if I couldn’t throw the stone away, he wouldn’t be thrown away either.
He stepped closer and placed the box in my hand. Then he gently wrapped his hands around mine, which were holding the box.
I looked down at it, then met his gaze. His eyes trembled anxiously, like a puppy afraid of being abandoned by its owner. But under those lashes, his shadowed pupils glimmered with something dangerous.
“I was scared… that you’d pretend nothing happened again and use alcohol as an excuse.”
“……”
“That you’d say you were leaving this mansion—for real this time.”
His pitiful words made my chest ache and my nose sting. I hadn’t realized how much my past weighed on him and made him feel insecure.
I gently placed my other hand on his cheek. He turned his head into my palm and kissed it warmly, as if responding to my touch.
Those eyes—burning with heat—reminded me of last night.
“I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen, Etricia.”
