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Chapter 15
Kenneth continued the conversation, silently hoping that the woman with the injured ankle would remain in her room.
“I expected you to start complaining about the Empire’s weather the moment you arrived. I’m surprised.”
“Ha! I don’t complain about everything in the Empire, you know.”
That was a lie.
Damian mocked nearly every aspect of Cremisa with casual, cutting humour.
There wasn’t a single thing about this country that he liked, from the humidity to the air to the temperature.
“Well, Lenthia, the weather today is actually pretty—”
His voice trailed off.
They had just passed a fork in the path leading towards the main estate, and there was something unusual about that direction.
Unusually so.
Kenneth glanced at Damian, silently instructing him to wait, before turning and striding down the shrub-lined path and disappearing through the thicket.
Startled voices from the estate staff could be heard, laced with confusion.
But then, cutting clean through the clamour, Kenneth’s voice rang out sharply and commandingly, silencing everything:
“What are you doing here?”
“I… got lost while out on a walk.”
Kenneth let out an irritated sigh.
Damian was more startled by the sound of it than he cared to admit.
‘Kenneth Clifford… sighing?’
That man, who had always seemed untouchable and ageless, with a stoicism that bordered on divine immunity, was actually showing emotion?
Damian’s curiosity got the better of him and he stepped forward. What he saw next was even more surprising.
Kenneth Clifford was visibly displeased.
In all the time he had known him, Damian had never seen him so clearly out of sorts.
However, it wasn’t Kenneth who truly took Damian’s breath away.
It was her.
A woman stood beneath the shadows of the trees, holding a small basket of flowers.
Her dress shimmered in soft shades of pale blue, the fabric catching the light like moonlight on ice.
Beneath the dappled leaves, a pair of sapphire eyes shone brightly from her calm, delicate face.
“Ah…”
A soft breath caught in Damian’s throat.
Despite his patriotism and his belief that Duvrisian women were second to none, that conviction faltered in an instant.
The woman adjusted the basket in her arms and spoke softly.
“Good afternoon. I wasn’t aware we had a guest.”
“Good afternoon, my lady.”
Damian replied, giving a casual, practised smile.
But in his mind, a frantic voice whispered over and over again:
‘Please be a cousin. Please just be the duke’s cousin.’
But Kenneth Clifford had no living relatives.
Which meant…
Kenneth stepped toward her, speaking slowly.
“I don’t think the two of you had the chance to meet properly at the wedding. Let me introduce you now. This is my wife, Ariana Clifford. And that gentleman over there is Marquis Damian Baptiste from the Kingdom of Duvris.”
‘Of course.’
So much for wishful thinking.
But Damian concealed his bitter realisation with a smile and courteously removed his hat.
“It’s an honour to meet you, madam.”
“The honour is mine, Lord Baptiste. I’ll do my best to ensure your stay here is a pleasant one.”
‘D*mn it, Even her voice is beautiful.’
Whatever dark rumours he’d heard about her — even the ones that had reached Duvris —when it came to her looks, not a word had been exaggerated.
Just then, a soft breeze rustled the leaves above them, casting rippling shadows over her.
As Kenneth watched the foreign guest and his wife talking, he noticed a shadow flicker over them.
***
Once the guest had disappeared into his quarters, Kenneth immediately released Ariana’s hand.
Though his expression remained composed, irritation slithered through his nerves like a thin, cold serpent beneath the surface.
“Who told you I’d be here today?”
“No one.”
Ariana replied calmly. She had only guessed, based on the tea. It was a small gamble — if she was wrong, nothing would come of it, but if she was right, it would present an opportunity.
‘If I ever do settle in Duvris, the Marquis of Baptiste would be the most useful connection to have.’
At the very least, befriending someone in his household might help to forge a path forward.
Kenneth’s brows drew together in a cold frown as he stared at her overly polite, well-mannered face.
“I believe I warned you not to wander around freely.”
“You’ve told me many things I’m not allowed to do.”
Ariana tightened her grip on the flower basket in her arms.
“But all I did was greet your guest while out walking. Isn’t that just common courtesy?”
“A guest, you say.”
Kenneth scoffed soundlessly, recalling the scene of their earlier exchange.
“I thought you were just looking for a lover, since it’s clear that your husband isn’t giving you enough pleasure.”
“…?”
Ariana stared at him, blankly. She had heard the words, but they didn’t quite register right away.
“Pardon? A… a lover?”
“You said it yourself a few days ago. Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten?”
“Th-that was…!”
Only then did she realize what he was mocking her for.
“So I’ve decided to find pleasure in the bedroom, at the very least.”
‘He’s mocking me… for that?’
For that night—when she had tried to pull him into bed?
Ariana’s face flushed deep red as she stammered out a protest.
“Just because I tried something once, does that mean I’d start looking for a lover the next day?”
“Who knows? It’s not as if you’ve proven yourself to be trustworthy.”
He knew his words were unfair. If anyone had been sending out mixed messages, it was Damian Baptiste, not Ariana.
‘I’ll have to give that man a stern warning later.’
And yet, Kenneth found himself acting pettily, not because of anything Ariana had just done, but because he couldn’t remember ever seeing her speak so easily and naturally before.
Not even when she was still an Aberdeen. She had lost her family and survived bullets and blades, yet she had continued to live.
And yet it was this that twisted him up inside.
‘Life’s full of cruel ironies.’
‘And to think… she can’t even manage a smile for the man who saved her life.’
The storm churning inside him was somewhat dulled by the sight of her blushing cheeks.
Although her face was pale like spring petals and would usually suit soft pinks better, he found he didn’t mind the deeper shade either.
He let his gaze linger on her flushed expression, a faint smile curling his lips.
“You’ve never walked this far before.”
“…”
“With your ankle still injured, there must be another reason you wandered all the way out here, don’t you think?”
“And in your mind, that reason is a man. You think I—!”
Her arms trembled as she clutched the flower basket tightly to her chest.
The pain twisting inside her was unbearable, as if her insides were being scraped raw.
And yet, she forced the words out — words that cut even deeper.
“You think I’m the kind of woman who clings pathetically to men just to survive?”
“Well, well. That’s an awfully honest assessment of yourself.”
“Your Grace—!”
“Am I wrong?”
In that moment, Ariana didn’t know whether she wanted to scream, cry, or laugh like someone who had finally gone mad.
‘How could a love that was once so beautiful have fallen so far and been dragged through so much filth?’
“Maybe save those kinds of suggestions for when the driver’s not around.”
What had happened to the man who had once teased with rough-edged affection?
‘Now all that remained was this cold, unrecognisable stranger.’
Before her death, Ariana had always thought it was her fault.
If only she hadn’t invited him to the opera. If only my family hadn’t been so greedy…
‘That’s why… I never stood up to Kenneth back then.’
Her vision blurred and turned white. She wanted to argue, to scream something — anything — back at him.
But then a thought stopped her in her tracks.
‘Why am I even angry?’
Josephina had always yelled at her because she loved her.
Shouting and anger were all part of loving someone deeply.
But that emotion died the moment Ariana confessed her feelings in desperation and took her own life.
‘I’m here for my child. That’s all that matters.’
She no longer needed any of the rest.
Why had Kenneth come to her that night without saying anything?
And why wasn’t he afraid of being shot, even though there was a gun?
Who had put the gun in her room?
She would let go of all the unsolved mysteries from her past life.
As this thought dawned on her, the rage boiling inside her slowly subsided.
The raw, open pain in her chest softened into silence.
Ariana lowered her lashes and whispered gently.
“If my actions gave the wrong impression, I apologise. It wasn’t my intention; I was just careless.”
“…..”
“I won’t be attending dinner tonight. I’ll leave everything to the butler and the head maid.”
Technically, household banquets were the mistress’s domain. But in this house, she didn’t truly hold authority over anything.
She was nothing more than a doll, devoted to one man only. Still, if bowing her head meant she could end this painful conversation, she was willing to do so for now.
Kenneth closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.
“What good is an apology after the damage has been done? Have you learnt nothing from your family’s mistakes?”
“…”
“Attend. Greet the guests, make small talk, and leave when appropriate.”
Kenneth turned his back on her, ready to head once more towards the annex.
But just before he took a step, his gaze flicked — almost absently — towards something that had remained on the periphery of their conversation until now.
Her hands.
“Whats that flowers for?”
Ariana instinctively pulled the basket tighter to her chest, hugging it close.
Words she couldn’t bear to say pricked at the inside of her mouth, sharp and burning.
‘They’re for our baby.’
