His appearance was so perfectly timed that for a moment I wondered if he had been absent all this time only to emerge at this precise instant—like a hero in a novel who unerringly chooses the moment for dramatic intervention.
"Are you alright?"
"If you don't count a few drops of wine, then yes."
"Good. I made it in time."
Gabriel smiled with such evident relief that his earlier coldness seemed unimaginable. This wasn't the flawless, polished smile he displayed out of politeness, nor the cautious one that usually concealed his thoughts. I sensed something simpler beneath it—something sincere, as if he'd truly exhaled after enduring tremendous strain.
It made me feel uncomfortably warm inside, like a thin shiver running across my skin. And most importantly, it made it difficult to push away the person who had just shielded me with his own body.
_A strange feeling. Is this why scenes like this persist so stubbornly in stories?_
"You didn't have to cover for me."
"I wanted to hear something else from you."
"...Thank you."
I hadn't asked for protection. He had intervened of his own will, and now he waited as though these words were exactly what he needed. And they were. His smile grew even brighter—so pure and radiant that it felt like it might simply wash over me.
I touched his arm lightly, signaling it was time to let go. He hesitated before releasing his embrace.
Duke Hosakine, who had thrown the wine, now glared at Gabriel as though *he* were the one at fault. A strange choice of target for anger, indeed.
"Sir Gabriel. Do you understand *who* you are protecting?"
"Yes." Gabriel's voice was steady, unwavering. "I realize this more clearly than anything in the world."
The Duke rubbed his hand across the bridge of his nose, as if trying to quell a rising headache. His outburst of anger seemed to have subsided somewhat—but as soon as someone nearby whispered that *the Duke had thrown a glass at his own granddaughter*, his face contorted again. Fixing me with a heavy gaze, he spoke clearly and coldly:
"Remember this once and for all. Amaranta doesn't have a daughter. You are **not** my granddaughter."
It seemed he still harbored some tenderness for the Countess herself, but he felt such visceral disgust for me—the "second generation of Rohansons"—that he was prepared to deny my very existence.
"Until now, I've pretended not to notice because Amaranta asked me to turn a blind eye. But no matter how silent I remain, you will **never** be my granddaughter. Never! Even if I were to die, you still wouldn't be."
It was as though he'd deliberately outlined his motives. And that wasn't surprising—I had approached him just as rumors about his failing health circulated, and the topic of inheritance naturally surfaced.
But something else was far more important.
Listening to him, I suddenly realized that the Countess had indeed maintained contact with him. I'd been certain their relationship had ended long ago, but his words shattered that belief entirely.
And the phrase about Amaranta asking him to *close his eyes*... what did that even mean? There was a sense of mystery in it—something the Duke tolerated solely because of her.
Given that I resembled her so completely, the Count clearly couldn't have been the one who "brought" someone else's child into the family. So what? Was it truly the other way around? Had it been Amaranta herself?
I looked like her reflection, as if she alone had given birth to me. If I were an illegitimate daughter, then for the stubborn and rigid Hosakine, this could have been cause enough for a permanent break. The more I considered it, the more plausible the theory became.
There was a catastrophic lack of information, and my head was beginning to split. _I urgently need the second part of Amaranta's diary, or I'll truly go mad._
The most unpleasant reality was that the Duke had already made himself clear: I would not receive the inheritance. Moreover, he had allowed himself a public outburst of rage. The Count was probably counting on a far more subtle approach. If I had known things would turn so harsh, I wouldn't have pressed him so directly.
And the Duke, without offering a single apology, only added more questions to my growing list before turning to leave.
"Blood was spilled at the Crown Prince's feast. It wouldn't take long for someone to lose their head over something like that. I'll go and ask His Highness for forgiveness myself." His cold gaze swept over Gabriel. "And you'd better hurry with your treatment."
_Blood? What is he talking about...?_
At that very moment, Gabriel swayed as though his legs had given way. I immediately grabbed his waist, holding him steady.
"Sir Gabriel!"
Mrs. Toten screamed, and I, confused, finally understood what the Duke had meant.
Realization struck like a blow. Why were Hosakine's hands empty? Where was the glass? He hadn't simply *splashed* the wine.
He had **thrown** it.
_Damn it!_ So it wasn't just wine dripping down Gabriel's hair. That vicious old man! He didn't even apologize! Not a word! Not a hint of regret!
I glared at the Duke's retreating back, but Gabriel—with a *broken head*—somehow managed to act as though nothing serious had happened.
"Are you worried about me?"
He was asking that *now*? I couldn't even answer for sheer indignation. If he hadn't been wounded, I would have at least struck him on the back of the head, the way Daisy always did! _What are you smiling about, you idiot!_
I remained silent, but he apparently took that as consent. He narrowed his eyes, as if assessing me, and lifted the corners of his lips again. A glass had just flown at his head, and it seemed something had genuinely shifted up there. _Are you* **happy** *that I'm worried? Seriously?_
Fear shot through me. What if he started deliberately picking fights and injuring himself just to provoke this reaction from me? I shook my head sharply.
"Why should I worry if you got involved and suffered yourself?!"
"But you're angry."
"Am I... angry?"
"Yes." His smile didn't waver. "When you get angry, you stop speaking politely."
Only then did I realize I'd slipped into informal speech. So much for Dolline's lessons about a noble lady's duty to remain calm under any circumstances! If she saw me now, she'd probably clutch her head and burst into tears.
_Forgive me, Dolline! The noble lady inside me has only existed for three months!_
"It seems you're angry for my sake." Gabriel's voice softened, almost tender. "In every sense... it's pleasant."
These words nearly tore me apart. I didn't even understand why I was so furious. I'd seen wounded servants at the Rohanson estate before—it had been terrifying, yes—but my anger had never risen as fiercely as it did now. How was Gabriel any different from them, that his wound was the one making me *shake*?
_Probably because we've become closer. Yes. That's all._
If it had been Kanna in his place, I would have already turned the entire room upside down and, without a second thought, hurled a glass at the back of Hosakine's head, committing true sacrilege. Gabriel, however, had simply found himself embroiled in someone else's family quarrel, shielded me, and taken the blow. If after that I didn't feel anxious or angry, then who was I?
Gabriel straightened, quickly regaining his balance. I exhaled heavily, looking at him soaked in red wine. That damned color made it impossible to tell how serious the wound truly was.
I forced myself to speak evenly, refusing to break down again.
"You'd better follow your grandfather's advice and get treatment."
"But the dance will begin soon."
_What difference does it make! The treatment won't take forever!_
"Even if you stay, you still won't be able to dance."
"Ah." He glanced down at himself as if noticing his state for the first time. "Then the wine might get on you too, my lady."
Gabriel stepped back, creating distance. _Really? I didn't say anything about dancing because I'm afraid of stains on my dress! I said it because you're hurt!_
I wanted to snap back, but I'd just claimed I wasn't worried—I couldn't reverse it now without contradicting myself. Besides, he clearly wasn't the type to listen to explanations. It was easier to continue down the same path.
"Then change your clothes and come back. Hena has some holy water—take it and treat the wound."
"I have holy water... no, never mind."
He didn't finish, stopping mid-sentence. _Holy water?_ He should have plenty of it—he was a holy knight, after all. Then why was he so stubborn about staying? Could it be...
"I'm afraid something will happen to you while I'm gone."
So it really was because of me. He'd only had to leave once, and I'd nearly taken a glass to the head. No wonder he didn't want to leave me alone now. But I was the one who had provoked Hosakine into that outburst. If I simply kept my mouth shut from now on, nothing would happen.
"If you're worried, I promise to remain quiet. There are too many eyes here—you can see that."
I made it clear that I understood the rules of this place and had no intention of causing another scene.
Gabriel suddenly looked into the void, as if listening to something invisible. Then he slowly nodded, as though agreeing with an unheard voice.
"Yes... that's right. There are always eyes watching you."
"Sir Gabriel, I understand you do not entirely trust me, but I will remain close to Lady Rohanson."
It was only after Mrs. Toten's words that Gabriel finally relented.
"Then I'll return shortly. My lady... please be careful."
He saluted and headed for the exit. Even as he left, he managed to leave a warning. _He cares, he cares—but he still lacks trust, doesn't he?_
The gazes that followed Gabriel made it clear: the rumor about the "villain holding the holy knight on a leash" would now spread even further.
But something else worried me more. Would he actually go for treatment, or simply change his clothes and return? No—they would definitely attend to him. Raphael or Yuriel, one of them. That was why protagonists always needed capable companions by their side: without Raphael, Gabriel would have long ago destroyed himself, using up his own body like a disposable instrument.
---
Now it was up to me to manage the aftermath.
Hosakine had departed. Gabriel had gone for treatment. There was no one left to smooth things over—except me.
"Mrs. Toten, I apologize for revealing our family quarrel to everyone."
I said it a little louder than necessary—as though addressing only her, but ensuring those around us could hear clearly.
"I simply wanted to speak about my mother because I miss my family so dearly. But it seems my grandfather still doesn't trust me."
"Lady Rohanson, one day Duke Hosakine will open his heart to you as well. Please do not worry."
Mrs. Toten immediately picked up my lead and gently shifted the responsibility to the Duke. To everyone watching, it all appeared simple: I had come with sincere intentions, but he had flared up, lost his temper, and even thrown his glass.
_Excellent._
His reputation would slowly but surely sink. He shouldn't have made a scene and left first.