KMKS 10

Chapter 10

[Would you please help me?]

Sarah stepped into Aiden’s study for the first time, answering his request.

She had expected the study to be messy, but it was surprisingly neat and well organized—much like his tidier appearance of late.

Instead of sitting on the sofa, she paced nervously, waiting for Aiden to call on her. Her ankle wasn’t fully healed, but for some reason, she wanted to remain standing.

Just thinking that she might be able to help him made her feel an unexpected excitement deep inside.

It wasn’t just gratitude anymore—she could repay him with action.

And it was Aiden himself who had asked her.

Though Sarah had to work hard to hide the lighthearted thrill she hadn’t felt in so long.

Why am I like this?

She placed a hand over her chest.

Even when she had left the orphanage to live with the Count of Dorcen, even when she later moved into the viscount’s residence after her marriage—

Her hopes had collapsed again and again, yet her heart now beat with an unfamiliar anticipation.

It went on like that until Aiden handed her something.

“Here.”

She turned at his voice. He had taken a slim book from the shelves—a poetry collection.

As soon as she accepted it, her face flushed red with confusion.

Why was he giving her a book of poems? What did it mean? She had to think long and hard before making any sense of it.

It was completely unexpected.

Noticing her flustered look, Aiden quickly spoke.

“Ah, this is…”

He gestured with his hands, stressing that he truly wanted her help with this.

Sarah was puzzled. Why was he straining to explain so much?

It was the first time he had ever shown such earnestness toward her, so she simply listened quietly.

But the more she listened, the stranger it all seemed.

She looked back and forth between the poetry collection and Aiden.

“So… you want me to read this to you?”

“Ah, well… please, just hear me out for a moment.”

Perhaps asking her to read aloud really was too much. He gave an awkward smile with his brief reply.

While he rattled off some unconvincing excuse, Sarah quietly opened the book.

His voice hardly reached her ears.

Sarah didn’t know much about his childhood, but she did know he had completed a proper education—even if he wasn’t brilliant.

After all, he had often boasted of his schooling while belittling her, saying they couldn’t even communicate properly.

So it wasn’t that he couldn’t read.

And Sarah wasn’t illiterate either. Reading aloud wouldn’t have been difficult for her at all.

The question was—did Aiden know that?

Something didn’t feel right.

No matter how thankful she had been for his help earlier, this absurd request to read poetry for him filled her with suspicion.

This was the man who had always shouted at her not to meddle in his affairs—yet now he was asking her to help?

He must think I can’t read, and that’s why he brought this book.

He used to scorn her for being an orphan, mocking and belittling her every chance he got.

So how could she not think that this was just another way to humiliate her?

Had all his kindness been just a setup, so he could drag her here and shame her?

Dark thoughts welled up inside her, and she began to doubt whether he truly had lost his memory. She bit her lip hard.

Normally, she would never have obeyed his words so easily.

Losing his memory wouldn’t have erased his old nature. If he was kind to her now, perhaps it was only to strike her down harder later—dragging her already low self-worth even lower.

Her thin fingers gripped the book tighter.

How foolish she felt, following him here so thoughtlessly, all because she wanted to be of use.

Even daring to feel a small flicker of hope.

“To be honest…”

Noticing her stiff expression, Aiden stopped making excuses.

His blue eyes caught every detail of Sarah’s withdrawn figure.

After a quiet sigh, he revealed his true reason.

“I have no intention of tormenting you.”

“……!”

Her pupils trembled. She had tried to hide it, but again, he had seen straight through her—so easily.

“So you really did think that of me.”

Though he understood, there was disappointment in his tone. Sarah said nothing.

“Just stay here. I need your presence to help me manage work I can no longer remember.”

Was this just another ploy, since mocking her hadn’t worked?

“What does that have to do with reading a book?”

It was only poetry, after all. She snapped back sharply as she opened the collection in her hands.

“Your room is dark, isn’t it?”

A heavy silence followed.

She hadn’t seen sunlight in a long time. The bright outdoors only reminded her of her own misfortune, so she had grown used to the shadows.

She wasn’t one to wander outside freely, and she preferred it that way.

By now, she had even come to like the dark. It was far too late to suddenly start enjoying sunny weather.

“That book isn’t for me to hear. You may read it alone, if you like.”

Read it alone?

Sarah tilted her head.

“Or do embroidery. Or knit. Or tend to a garden, if you wish.”

“……”

When books didn’t seem to work, he listed off hobbies a typical lady of the house might enjoy.

“Whatever it is—whether you do it with me or not—just spend your time for yourself.”

Nothing more, nothing less.

Sarah stared at him blankly, recalling how she had wasted her time until now.

When she gazed vacantly out the window, when she sat in her darkened room, even when she ate her meals—what had she really been thinking about?

The reasons she had been left here. The fate of the Count and Countess of Dorcen. The home she could never return to.

Sarah had been living in the past.

Perhaps this was his way of encouraging her—so she could root herself in the present.

“If you’re curious about anything, you may ask. Even trivial talk can move us forward.”

He added that movement itself helps one forget heavy thoughts.

Even so, Sarah felt no real desire.

She had no will to pick up any of those hobbies. Nor to share idle chatter with her husband.

It felt strange—almost as if he was asking her to suddenly become an ordinary wife.

And yet.

“Even if I do nothing at all?”

“Yes. As long as you stay here.”

If that’s all he wants…

After all, he had done several things recently she was genuinely grateful for.

“…Very well.”

Sarah decided to stay in the study.

At her answer, Aiden smiled.

At that moment, she truly intended to do nothing but sit silently.

If he had stared at her every move, watching whether she read the poems or not, she might have followed through.

Because doing anything in his presence felt unnatural.

Slowly, Sarah sat on the sofa. To her surprise, once he confirmed she was seated, Aiden turned his full attention to his work.

Sunlight poured in through the window, warm after the rain. His golden hair glistened as though infused with light.

Sarah closed her eyes, listening.

Each time he turned a page and signed, the faint scratching sound reached her ears. It wasn’t unpleasant.

He must have been rushing to handle the backlog of work left unattended since his memory loss.

She rested her hands on her lap. Her doubts about him weren’t gone.

Before, even if Aiden’s moods had swung wildly, she had still been able to read him.

But now, she couldn’t.

Did he really lose his memory?

Maybe he had only invented a new way to torment her, finding entertainment in her confusion as his behavior kept shifting.

After all, he had once found joy in making her suffer.

What a wearying thought.

Even now, she wasted all her energy searching for hidden motives in his actions—just to avoid being hurt again.

And it had all begun after he supposedly lost his memory.

Fatigue swept over her. She needed something to break the tension.

So she opened the poetry collection.

Inside were verses about a cat leaving its rural home for the city, and a baby speaking its first words—stories of all kinds.

She suddenly remembered—this was her first time stepping into his study.

How strange she had been, limping on her injured ankle yet feeling so excited.

She sensed his gaze from nearby. Perhaps it was only because of the sunlight, but it felt so warm.

Still, she couldn’t accept his eyes fully. She convinced herself he was only watching to monitor her.

Memory loss or not, he was still the same man as before.

It was easier for her to believe that.

If Aiden knew, he might be a little disappointed.

After Olga’s whirlwind departure, Sarah and Aiden spent the morning together in the study.

Whether Olga would have liked the sight, Sarah couldn’t say.

But one thing was certain: even under Aiden’s occasional watchful gaze, her morning had felt more special than usual.

Outside, at last, the birds began to sing.

Meanwhile, while the two of them spent their morning, society was abuzz with talk of a certain duke.

Not only were pamphlets with his story selling like wildfire, but gossip spread on every tongue.

“Did you hear? They say it was a carriage accident.”

“Shh, quiet! The Duke is coming!”

The atmosphere froze instantly.

A towering man strode forward, exuding menace.

His hair was as dark as midnight, his red eyes blazing with unconcealed dominance. Everyone in the hall bowed their heads.

The shadow of his massive frame loomed over one of the men whispering just moments before.

“Go on, say that again.”

The duke hooked his hand under the man’s chin, then shoved it aside roughly.

“M-my apologies!”

“Do you even know who you’re standing before? Tch.”

He spat on the ground before walking away without a care.

This man was none other than Duke Leo Winston.