"What are you thinking about?"
"What? Thinking about? I'm not thinking about *anything*. I haven't thought about anything at all."
Marin leapt backward from the door as though it had burned her.
"Hmm... It seems you've been carried away by some rather *interesting* fantasies."
"Could you *please* stop reading my mind?"
She grabbed her head with both hands and retreated even further.
*The Duke seems to read minds constantly.*
How did he know everything when there was such a heavy door between them? He had to be gifted—some kind of psychic!
"I won't come in. Rest."
"I told you—don't read my mi— *hyp!*"
Marin clamped her hand over her traitorous, overly talkative mouth.
"So you *did* imagine me coming in?"
There was unmistakable laughter threaded through his low voice.
"*No.*"
"But you imagined it."
"Lord Gerald, I'm tired, so I'm going to sleep now. *Top-top-top.*"
"Top-top-top?"
"..."
Marin pressed her hand harder over her mouth and refused to answer.
Finally—*mercifully*—silence fell on the other side of the door.
Marin flopped onto the bed and kicked the blanket furiously.
"This is *my* body, but it's completely useless!"
"You seemed to be getting ready to rest, but I hear exercise?"
"..."
*And his hearing is supernatural.*
Marin, springs creaking beneath her, very carefully slid her legs under the blanket.
*Lie still. Quiet as a mouse.*
*Knock-knock.*
This time, the knock came from the real door—the one leading to the corridor.
"Come in."
Elmis entered.
"Shall I have water prepared for your bath?"
"Yes, please." Marin paused. "And Julia?"
"She's been moved to the maids' quarters. She was quite stubborn—insisting she'd already recovered—so I had to... persuade her otherwise."
Marin could imagine exactly how that conversation had gone. With Elmis's cool, unyielding gaze, a stern word or two would be devastating.
And yet, if Julia had tried to work before fully healing and torn her wound open, the consequences would have been far worse.
"Well done. Thank you."
"Yes, my lady."
Elmis bowed precisely at a right angle and departed.
"*Ha-ah*... I'm exhausted."
"I told you—rest."
"..."
*How long was this Duke planning to keep talking to her?*
Marin chose to silently ignore him.
---
## — The Capital, Afternoon —
Even in winter, the capital was warmer than the west.
Marin was heading to the back garden for afternoon tea with Daya. The closer they drew to the garden, the stronger the scent of flowers became—sweet, delicate, almost impossible for the season.
A light breeze stirred the air. The sky stretched overhead, clear and perfectly blue.
*Ah, beautiful. If only it weren't for this man.*
Marin spun around sharply.
"*Stop following me.*"
"Five steps." The Duke's voice was infuriatingly calm.
"I understand the rule, but we're on the Duke's own estate. Even if assassins appeared, there are knights everywhere."
"It's safest beside me."
Marin stared up at him in bewilderment.
It wasn't as though he was following her as part of some child-loss-prevention protocol. The Duke simply *went* wherever she went.
"Your Grace." Olive, trailing a few steps behind, spoke up.
"What?"
"The matter I mentioned brooks no delay."
"Speak here."
"There are too many ears present." Olive smiled—soft but unyielding.
"Stop teasing Mr. Olive and go already."
"I'll walk you to the garden first."
"*Fine.*"
Since the Duke had taken a step back, she had to give ground too.
Daya, who had been watching the exchange while barely containing a smile, followed after them.
The back garden was full of winter blooms—carefully cultivated, unexpectedly vibrant.
"So many flowers, even in winter..."
On the tea table sat an exquisite set of cups in a soft blue glaze, alongside a three-tiered étagère overflowing with colorful desserts.
"This is too much..."
"Marin is too thin."
She shook her head—she should have expected him to say exactly that.
"Now *go*."
"Eat everything."
"Yes, yes. I'll try."
The Duke's frowning brows twitched with displeasure, but he said nothing more and turned away.
Marin and Daya settled into their chairs, watching as the Duke departed with Olive.
Elmis, who had been following them like air until now, silently poured the tea and retreated to stand against the garden wall.
The moment the Duke disappeared from view, Daya burst into laughter.
Marin tilted her head, confused.
"What's funny?"
"It seems His Lordship truly loves you, Teacher."
"*What?!*" Marin's face flushed—then abruptly fell. "Oh... right..."
Her voice trailed off awkwardly.
Her heart, which had been floating somewhere light and warm, suddenly sank. Her fingers went limp around her teacup.
*Why did she keep forgetting?*
Everything the Duke did for her was just a performance. A show designed to make everyone believe they were in love.
And she had blushed. Her heart had pounded. *What a fool.*
It felt as though someone had punched a hole through her chest, and a cold draft was blowing through it. As though something precious had been snatched away right before her eyes.
*Why this feeling? Am I even allowed to feel it?*
"Teacher, are you all right?"
Daya's voice was careful, concerned. She peered into Marin's face.
Marin forced a quick smile and nodded.
"Yes, sorry. I was lost in thought for a moment."
"Looking at you and His Grace..." Daya's gaze grew distant. "I remember my parents. My mother used to treat my father the same way."
"I see."
Marin hid a bitter smile behind her teacup.
"I wanted to meet someone like that too," Daya continued, smiling sadly.
"Then you will. No—you *definitely* will."
Marin set down her cup quickly.
She knew who Daya was destined to fall in love with.
"I've given up on that dream."
"What?" Marin stared at her. "Why?"
*This can't be happening. Will the plot change again?*
Meeting her gaze steadily, Daya spoke:
"There are no female knights in the empire yet—but Garnet wants to become one, and she works harder than anyone. I support her completely."
"Right..."
"And after my parents died, I wanted to become head of the family. I wanted to protect Perido and the others with my own hands." Daya's voice was calm but resolute. "Not to take Perido's rightful place—just to serve as head until he comes of age."
"Ah..."
There were no female knights in the empire. No female heads of noble houses either.
Marin understood what had driven Daya to such thoughts better than anyone.
*Because I went through the same thing.*
Father and brother had died simultaneously. The house had crumbled. But the noble title still existed—and the Shuvents family had no distant branches left. No one to inherit.
Unless her mother adopted a son, or unless Marin married and passed the title to a husband or child.
"But it's impossible," Daya added, helplessness creeping into her voice.
Marin reached out and squeezed her hand, stroking it gently.
Daya smiled faintly—*it's all right*—and continued:
"That's why I don't just want to meet someone I love. I want to meet a man who can *change* this."
"Daya..."
Marin's eyes widened.
Only the Emperor could change imperial law. And the Emperor had many concubines—any approach to him would be politically treacherous.
Daya smiled, as though anticipating her concern.
"I don't want the old man either." Her dark green eyes flashed bright with ambition. "I want to marry the Crown Prince."
*What?*
*Daya is a heroine with political ambitions?*
Marin was stunned into silence.
"If I can't change the law myself, then let the next generation do it. I want to help build a world where women like Garnet—like *me*—can become what they're meant to be."
Marin, her mouth still hanging open in surprise, finally closed it.
*In the novel, Daya did fall in love with the Crown Prince.*
*They even promised to marry.*
She'd thought it was simply a romance—two people falling in love by chance. But it seemed the story had far deeper undercurrents than she'd realized.
"Am I being too forward?" Daya looked at her cautiously.
In Marin's eyes, Daya was still very young—not yet debuted, barely an adult. But this girl had already developed plans that most grown women wouldn't dare dream of.
Marin shook her head slowly.
"No. Thank you for telling me honestly."
"I knew you would understand me, Teacher."
"Thank you for trusting me."
"Thank you as well."
Their eyes met. They both smiled.
And then Elmis, who had been standing silent as a wall, suddenly approached.
Marin looked up. Elmis nodded almost imperceptibly toward the thicket.
Marin's hand slipped beneath her dress, finding the dagger the butler had given her. After the last incident, she carried it everywhere.
Daya sensed something wrong and bit her lower lip. Marin had told her that Elmis, despite her role as a maid, served as a bodyguard.
"The tea has gone cold, my lady," Elmis said, pouring fresh tea with perfect composure.
"Thank you."
*Act normal.*
Marin forced cheer into her voice:
"Daya, when should we visit that pastry shop you mentioned?"
The quick-witted Daya hid her trembling hands in the folds of her dress and matched her tone:
"Any time you'd like. They have particularly delicious strawberry cake. Do you like strawberry cake, Teacher?"
"Is there a person alive who *doesn't* like strawberry cake? Ho-ho-ho."
The laughter came out forced—but it would have to do.
Watching Elmis approach the bushes from the corner of her eye, Marin picked up a pink macaron. In her other hand, she gripped the dagger.
Elmis reached the thicket and slashed across with her blade—
A man with his face half-covered tumbled out of the bushes, rolling to a stop at their feet.
"W-wait! I—I am the Crown Prince!"
*...Why on earth was the Crown Prince crawling out of the shrubbery?*