"Alexio?"
The man had fallen silent, and Adelina repeated his name with growing impatience. Attempting to conceal his confusion, he leaned his head toward his wife. The sudden proximity made the girl recoil instinctively.
Sophie, standing at a careful distance from the couple, held her breath—the lantern trembling slightly in her grip.
"In that case, will I receive a gift?"
"A gift?"
"Yes. You congratulated me, after all. Were those merely empty words?"
"You didn't even give me time to prepare—or explain why you return home so late every night." When the conversation turned to gifts, Adelina's composure faltered, and she found herself blurting out the first thoughts that surfaced. But with every word, she felt something **aching** seep through—hurt she hadn't intended to reveal. Only then did she realize she was genuinely upset with her husband.
_But there's nothing to be offended about here._
They had entered into a marriage of convenience. According to their agreement, they were obligated to respect one another—but maintaining a personal relationship was not required. It was perfectly logical, then, that her husband hadn't informed Adelina about his affairs. And yet, for reasons she couldn't fully articulate, she felt **sad**.
Perhaps one of those reasons was that their honeymoon—cut short though it had been—had proven far more pleasant than she'd anticipated. Although Alexio wasn't particularly affectionate or socially inclined, he had ensured Adelina enjoyed her time in peace. He'd even taught her to fish, simply to alleviate her boredom. The Duke of Pembroke wasn't at all the rude, arrogant figure the press had portrayed. Adelina remembered standing at the railing of their yacht, watching dolphins leap high out of the water before diving back into the sunlit sea—their sleek bodies catching the light like living silver. Alexio had been beside her in that moment, pointing them out, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
He had become part of that memory.
_Now it's clear._
It was precisely **because** the Duke had been present during that wonderful moment that she had, deep down, begun hoping their marriage might work out better than she'd imagined. She also knew her husband would be utterly surprised to learn of this. Perhaps he would even wish to terminate the contract because of such a persistently hopeful wife.
Not wanting to betray her feelings, Adelina hastened to justify herself.
"Of course, the Duke of Pembroke isn't obligated to tell me anything. I was simply curious, having spent these days entirely in the dark. Nothing more."
In her attempt to create distance, her manner of address had grown noticeably formal. Alexio raised an eyebrow at being called "Duke of Pembroke" and crossed his arms. Though he understood perfectly well that Adelina varied her titles depending on circumstance, he found himself feeling **annoyed** now.
In the girl's eyes, her husband's expression seemed to convey reproach—as though she had overstepped by showing curiosity about his personal affairs.
"I won't ask again. We're not real—"
She didn't have time to finish. Alexio's hand covered her mouth. The touch wasn't rough, but Adelina's eyes flew wide with surprise nonetheless.
"Such conversations are best held in private."
Noticing her husband's gaze sweep the corridor, Adelina recognized her mistake. She had been so agitated that she'd completely forgotten they stood in a passageway where anyone might happen by. She nodded slightly, expressing her regret, and Alexio withdrew his hand.
For a moment, an awkward silence stretched between them.
"Still..." The Duke was the first to break it. "I would like to receive a gift."
"Do you want something specific?"
"Not a material gift..." Alexio reached out silently and touched his wife's cheek. The back of his hand brushed her skin with unexpected tenderness. Perhaps owing to the alcohol, his fingers felt slightly warm. The strange sensation made Adelina clutch her coat tighter around herself. The Duke placed his hand on her shoulder and leaned in, bringing his eyes level with hers. They were so close now that she could feel his breath mingling with her own. "Could you spare me some of your time tomorrow?"
"Time? For what—"
"Let's go somewhere together. It would be the best gift for me, **my dear**." Alexio's voice dropped lower as he pressed a gentle kiss to Adelina's forehead.
Not immediately comprehending what was happening, the girl blinked several times in bewilderment. Then, as understanding dawned, a deep flush crept across her cheeks.
"Will you give me such a gift?" Alexio asked again, a soft chuckle escaping him as he watched his wife's expression transform.
---
As soon as morning light filtered through the windows, Sophie was already rubbing her palms together with barely contained excitement.
"He invited you on a **date**!"
"A date?"
"Of course! It's a date, no matter how you examine it! It's your first date together, so I absolutely **must** do my best."
"Well, I'm not certain..." Adelina smiled sheepishly, observing Sophie's inspired expression. A date between spouses bound only by contract seemed highly unlikely. "Alexio must have invited me for some other reason."
"What other business could His Grace possibly have that would require inviting you for a stroll? Surely he wouldn't be seeking **business** advice?" Sophie waved her hand dismissively, brushing aside her mistress's words. In her considered opinion, the Duke of Pembroke—whose commercial acumen inspired admiration even among the kingdom's most experienced businessmen—would hardly ask an inexperienced young lady for assistance with his affairs. "Besides, even if His Grace needs to attend somewhere for other purposes, so what? There's nothing wrong with dressing beautifully and accompanying him. This is your first public outing together since the wedding, so **all eyes** will be upon you."
For the sake of settling the lady's nerves, Sophie's words were far from empty bravado.
The marriage of the Duke of Pembroke and Princess Adelina continued to generate **enormous** public interest. According to the servants, reporters from various publications constantly lurked around the estate's perimeter. They circled like hyenas, hungry for any scrap of news about the new Duchess. The Duke, for his part, didn't particularly exert himself to drive them away—believing it wasn't worth wasting precious time and energy on such trivial nuisances. Instead, he had taken measures to prevent the publication of any photographs that **did** manage to be captured. Rumors circulated that a photographer who had secretly documented Alexio's private life and sold the images to a newspaper had become embroiled in a devastating lawsuit, ultimately finding himself expelled from the industry entirely.
Despite this cautionary tale, paparazzi continued trailing the newlyweds—clear evidence of the intense public fascination. Many photographers reasoned that capturing a few excellent shots, selling them to newspapers for a handsome sum, and then retiring from the profession wasn't such a terrible fate. It was pure profiteering, plain and simple.
"But even so—inviting you out **today** is rather sudden! I won't have time to prepare either a proper dress or suitable jewelry." Sophie sighed in frustration, her shoulders slumping. "If only we had a few days' notice, I could order a new gown and select matching accessories. But now..." The maid, well aware of her mistress's wardrobe situation, couldn't bring herself to finish the thought. She merely glanced toward the armoire with a mixture of resignation and concern.
The chambers assigned to the Duchess of Pembroke were enormous—as was the adjoining dressing room. The sheer scale suggested that the mistress of this house should possess enough fashionable items to fill every inch to capacity. Contrary to this expectation, Adelina owned remarkably few clothes. So few, in fact, that "modest" hardly did justice to the situation. The Pembroke family's servants had repeatedly inquired—with poorly concealed disbelief—whether this was truly the princess's **entire** wardrobe.
Sophie forced herself away from her melancholy thoughts and exclaimed with renewed cheer.
"But it's perfectly fine! We simply need to make the very most of what we have." Sophie wasn't truly worried. Certainly, she felt a twinge of regret—but her mistress would be beautiful and elegant even wrapped in **rags**. And this was an objective assessment, not a maid's biased opinion.
"So, first of all—"
Just as Sophie was about to begin preparations in earnest, rolling up her sleeves with determination, a knock sounded at the door.
"Madam, this is Simeon—His Lordship's assistant. May I enter?"
When Adelina nodded her consent, the maid hurried over and pulled the door open.
"Miss Sophie," Simeon greeted her with impeccable politeness.
The maid was so shocked that she froze in place, her mouth falling open. And it wasn't because of the man's courteous greeting.
"W-what is all **this**?"