"Why did you save me?"
The question drifted across the familiar scent of rosemary tea.
Why would he suddenly ask this?
I raised my head slightly to look at Kaian. Beneath the black hair falling across his forehead, bright red eyes fixed on me expectantly, as though demanding I speak immediately.
Why does he always appear angry?
Even now, as he called me his "benefactor," his expression remained cold and critical.
"Just like that," I answered.
"Just?"
"Yes."
I hadn't invested much meaning into the act. Even people in good health worry about their mortality. But since I was approaching the end of my life anyway, I had become indifferent to danger and recovery.
"If anyone had been in that position, I would have saved them," I continued quietly.
"...Anyone?" His tone sharpened.
I hadn't saved him specifically because he was a noble Duke. If the crocodile had been attacking Hannah, or some unknown gatekeeper, or anyone else—I would have made the same choice. Better that I, who was dying, suffer than someone with a full life ahead.
Kaian's expression hardened further.
"You're a Duchess," he said coldly. "You should have valued your own safety. Avoided the danger entirely."
I closed my mouth, unable to respond.
*If I had done that, you would have been hurt.*
But saying so seemed like I was seeking credit for my sacrifice, and I wouldn't voice it.
"You're the most precious woman in this entire estate, yet you show no awareness of your own worth," Kaian continued harshly, standing abruptly.
Didn't he come to thank me?
I didn't understand why he was angry.
"The tea doesn't taste good," he said, his tone bitter, before striding from the room with cold finality.
I sighed as his presence retreated.
The breath left my throat and immediately dissolved into coughing.
"Cough. Cough. Cough."
I grabbed a napkin from the tea table, covering my mouth as the spasms wracked my frame.
"Cough..."
As the violent coughing finally subsided, something rose in my throat—the sensation of imminent vomiting.
I spat out a small lump of blood into the napkin.
---
I had imagined my death many times. In most scenarios, I pictured an ordinary deathbed: a loving family gathered nearby, gray-haired husband or grown children whispering endearments, assuring me I'd never be forgotten.
No one in those visions was afraid.
But I waited alone, my heart carefully prepared for the inevitable. I was terrified and desperately lonely. When I lost my parents—one after another—I realized such an ordinary death was not meant for everyone.
Still... still...
The only comfort for the sadness welling inside me was the pain I'd grown accustomed to bearing.
---
Kaian didn't visit Claudel's room for several days after that conversation.
His previous visits had been frequent—after her injury, he came multiple times daily to check on her, sharing tea or dinner while inquiring about her condition. Now that ceased entirely.
*"You would have saved anyone?"*
Kaian had been refined throughout his life into both shield and sword—protection and weapon for those around him. Having never been cared for by others, he wondered if he'd attached too much significance to being saved by her.
Yet the warm memory of her rescue—something that made his heart melt simply by recalling it—now felt insignificant.
*"Just like that? That's all?"*
He didn't understand his own annoyance when there was no correct answer to demand.
---
## Knock. Knock.
"Enter," Kaian commanded from his office.
The butler appeared. "My Lord, the jewelry repair you commissioned has been completed. The craftsman awaits your instruction."
"Send him in."
The jeweler entered with a bright smile and bowed. "I have completed the restoration of your ring."
He placed a blue jewelry box on the desk. Kaian had given over only a simple bezel before, but now the craftsman had presented it in elegant packaging—likely including the original warranty document.
He retrieved the ring from the box.
"The Duchess's fingers are remarkably delicate," the craftsman explained carefully. "I've lightened the band as much as possible while maintaining structural integrity."
Kaian barely followed the technical details, but the ring appeared magnificent. The band was thinner, more refined than before—it hardly seemed like the same object.
For a moment, his mood lifted. He'd been reluctant to give Claudel something defective, something tainted by Antyone's interference. This felt like an entirely new piece.
But the moment the craftsman departed, dissatisfaction returned.
*Claudel was a difficult woman.*
What thoughts occupied that small head of hers? Once distance had been created between them, finding their way back seemed impossible.
Many nobles also had arranged marriages, but did they all experience such strain? Living in the same household?
Kaian had few friends to ask—most male nobles his age had died in the war. Without those connections, he had no reference point for how others managed their unions.
"My Lord, you seem displeased," the butler observed, noting Kaian's frown at the blue diamond. "Is the restoration unsatisfactory?"
"No, it's excellent. Better than expected, actually."
"Then what troubles you, sir?"
Kaian needed advice. The butler was an experienced man, loyal to the Temnes family for decades and bearing the title of Baron. Perhaps he could offer perspective.
"I asked Claudel why she saved me," Kaian said carefully, feigning indifference.
"And what did she say?"
"'Just like that.'"
The butler blinked in confusion.
"She meant she did it without deliberation. Simply... because someone was in danger."
"Ah, I understand now," the butler said, nodding.
"Does that make sense?" Kaian's frustration returned. "She may never walk properly again. To sacrifice so much for such a vague reason—"
"Your wife has a kind heart, my Lord."
"She said she would have saved anyone. Meaning it wasn't because of me specifically."
"Perhaps she simply recognizes the value of all human life. If the territory residents are ever in distress, she'll show them the same mercy."
*If only the people of Rowan Castle would recognize that kindness,* Kaian thought bitterly, *instead of spitting her name as though she were Vermont's curse upon them.*
He sighed heavily.
"Is something else troubling you, sir?" the butler asked.
"I simply don't understand her. How is it this difficult to grow closer to one's own wife?"
The butler considered carefully. "When was the last time you spent time together outside the bedroom, my Lord?"
Kaian paused. "We haven't."
"That may be the issue, sir. Most marriages—even arranged ones—include a courtship period. A year of knowing one another before the ceremony. You've skipped that entirely."
"Dating?" Kaian said the word as though unfamiliar with the concept.
The butler cleared his throat delicately. "So far, you've only encountered your wife in her bedroom. And once in yours, if I'm not mistaken?"
"That's correct."
"You'll need time to truly know each other. Conversation. Shared experiences. What do couples typically do during courtship?"
"Various activities. Outings together."
"Isn't that something only men who are... overly devoted to women do?" Kaian wrinkled his nose in disdain.
The butler wisely remained silent.
Kaian found women who clung to him irritating. Perhaps it was fortunate he'd found a wife with an indifferent demeanor. Yet somehow, he was the one pursuing—the one worried and confused.
"Spending time together builds understanding," the butler ventured carefully. "Perhaps a picnic? Since she has difficulty walking, a proper walk would be challenging. She must be frustrated from remaining indoors."
Kaian felt the same frustration on her behalf. The suggestion appealed to him.
"Arrange it. I can give her the ring there as well."
"When would you like this, sir?"
"Now."
The butler watched Kaian stand to change his clothes without hesitation, then sent a message to Claudel's room before heading to the kitchen.
---
An hour later, Kaian walked down the castle's back garden path, carrying Claudel in his arms.
The private garden adjoined a small lake and belonged solely to the castle's Lord. No one could enter without permission. The gardener maintained it carefully enough to preserve its wild beauty without making it look artificially manicured.
When the butler had carefully arranged cushions beneath a shaded tree, Claudel—whose complexion had been pale and wan all day—seemed to brighten slightly.
*Perhaps it was because she was grateful for the outing,* Kaian thought, nearly offended again. But the sight of her sitting amid white flowers was breathtaking, so he settled beside her.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
"Yes. It's beautiful," she replied softly.
Kaian wanted to take advantage of the moment. When should he give her the ring? What could he say to improve the mood further? But he still didn't know what she liked or what to discuss with her.
"Tell me anything you want," he said finally. "Since you're my benefactor, I should repay the favor."
Claudel looked at him quietly.
*Since she's his benefactor, he should give her the ring in return.* If Antyone hadn't stolen it that day, none of this worry would exist.
"If I really asked, would you listen?" Claudel asked softly.
"Yes."
"Anything?"
"Yes."
She smiled faintly.
Seeing that expression for the first time, Kaian felt his breath catch unexpectedly. Why was even her smile so affecting?
Confused, he rose and gathered the white flowers scattered on the ground, creating a small bouquet with deliberate care—something he did for a woman still unable to walk without pain.
"Here," he offered.
"Thank you," she said, accepting the flowers.
But her face contorted as she smelled them.
"Why...?"
Before she could finish, the coughing began.
"Cough. Cough."
Blood spread between her fingers as she covered her mouth.
"Claudel!"
Unable to breathe, she collapsed. Blood scattered across the white petals still held in her arms.
---