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CHAPTER 24
“I don’t know why Madam Cyrillegée took you in and raised you. Whether it was out of pity, simple curiosity, or—like you said—genuine goodwill… it doesn’t matter.”
“…”
“The reality you need to focus on is this: you’re being treated like the madam’s pet, and that’s exactly how others will see you. So if you want to crawl out of that muddy reality, you’d better listen to me.”
The Marquis of Hexion lifted Dite’s chin. She had just stopped crying, but her eyes shimmered with tears again. She looked so pitiful it was hard to ignore.
“Do you know when Baroness Etisha and Duke Cayenne’s wedding will be held?”
“…Yes, I overheard Madam say it would be in a month.”
“That’s cutting it close.”
“Why the wedding…?”
“Why? Because once those two get married, it’s over for you.”
“…”
“Right now, you’re the duchess’s foster daughter and a possible mistress to Cayenne, but once a proper duchess takes her place in the Wintel household, all of that vanishes. The nobles won’t even remember you exist.”
Now that he said it, it did sound true.
What would happen to Dite once Cayenne was married?
Right now, she lived comfortably thanks to Madam Cyrillegée. But would that still be the case when a new duchess took over the Wintel family?
“One month. Within that time, you must secure your position. Gain influence in high society and within the Wintel household—enough so that no one can treat you lightly.”
“…How exactly?”
The Marquis of Hexion laughed casually, as if she’d just asked the easiest question in the world.
“Simple. Make allies.”
“…”
“For starters… yes, begin with the Countess of Montmade.”
Dite’s golden eyes flickered strangely. At that moment, the moonlight outside the window faded.
Clouds veiled the night sky, leaving it dim.
‘Just one bed…’
Etisha paced slowly beside the bed.
‘There’s… only one bed…’
How could a castle this large have only one bedroom with a single bed?
‘That’s impossible. Maybe I’m just seeing things because I’m tipsy from the wine. There must be more than one bed.’
Hesitantly, Etisha sat at the edge of the bed.
As expected from the Wintel ducal household, the bed was not only soft but also warm.
To feel such warmth in the cold North—it had to be enchanted.
‘Ah… so the bed’s a magical item. It must be rare, which is why there’s only one.’
Letting go of her obsession with the bed count, Etisha collapsed into the blanket.
Still wearing her banquet dress, she had no energy to change.
She was tipsy, exhausted, and the bed was too warm and inviting.
‘So… from tonight, I’ll be sharing a bed with the Duke? But the wedding hasn’t even happened yet… I’m not mentally ready.’
On top of that, from her brief experience, Etisha knew one thing—Duke Cayenne didn’t sleep with clothes on.
She had seen it herself, back at the capital estate: Cayenne, lying in bed with his shirt off…
‘What am I going to do?’
Etisha buried her face in the pillow.
Her meticulously pinned-up hair was uncomfortable, but she had no time to care.
‘Surely the Duke wouldn’t sleep naked tonight… right?’
If he did, Etisha wouldn’t get a wink of sleep.
‘No way… this is crazy…’
She never imagined something like this would happen in the North.
Even if they were to marry, she had assumed they’d have separate rooms. She didn’t think she’d even see him much.
‘Because…’
Cayenne already had a beloved mistress.
Etisha was supposed to live quietly, invisibly, like air, and die without leaving a trace.
‘Wait…’
Her thoughts came to a sudden halt, and she blinked.
Something wasn’t adding up.
‘But… Dite isn’t the Duke’s mistress. She’s Madam Cyrillegée’s foster daughter. So why… why did he accept my proposal?’
The rumor was that Cayenne married to hide his mistress.
But Dite wasn’t a mistress.
So… he doesn’t have one?
Then why did Duke Cayenne agree to marry Etisha?
‘I don’t understand.’
Etisha slowly closed her eyes. Her eyelashes lay neatly like silk under her lids.
‘Maybe I misunderstood everything. Maybe even Dite was just a smokescreen, and there’s someone else he’s hiding…’
Someone like Cayenne, so methodical, could very well be hiding a true lover.
Just as Etisha suspected, Dite may have been nothing more than a shield to protect someone else. There might be a woman he would go to such lengths to keep safe.
‘What is the Duke really thinking…’
Her thoughts drifted, sleep creeping in.
‘Duke…’
She hadn’t changed out of her dress, and she wasn’t prepared to sleep beside Cayenne, but the warmth of the bed and the pleasant buzz from the wine slowly lulled her to sleep.
In the end, Etisha succumbed to slumber.
Past midnight, Cayenne finished his piled-up duties and headed to the bedroom.
His footsteps echoed through the silent Wintel castle.
‘The plan proceeds without issue.’
Arriving at the third floor, Cayenne opened the bedroom door.
He unfastened the buttons of his collar and walked toward the lone bed placed deep inside the room.
‘The wedding is in one month… That will be the final confirmation. After that, I will end everything—just as planned.’
As each button came undone, more of Cayenne’s muscular form was revealed beneath the black shirt.
His skin looked impenetrable, as if even a blade wouldn’t leave a mark—like a mirror of his guarded inner world.
‘…’
Cayenne looked down at the sleeping woman on the bed.
Etisha.
In a dazzling white dress, she looked like a character out of a fairytale.
A sacrifice. Or perhaps bait…
This pitiful offering had handed over the rest of her life to Cayenne, simply for a chance to escape her past.
‘If she weren’t in the same situation as me, I would’ve never even looked at her.’
Cayenne hadn’t accepted her proposal because of some mistress.
He never had one.
The rumors of the Duke of Wintel’s secret lover were baseless—just gossip sparked by those who didn’t know Dite’s true identity.
Nor was his acceptance due to his family’s wishes. He was aware of Madam Cyrillegée’s desire for her son to settle down through marriage—but it wasn’t a wish Cayenne could fulfill.
The real reason he chose to marry Etisha?
Because, like her, he also had a past he desperately wanted to escape.
But unlike her, a peaceful path wouldn’t suffice.
Revenge.
Beheading. Burning the corpse. Grinding the ashes underfoot.
That was all Cayenne wanted.
‘…’
He took off his uniform jacket and draped it over a chair. Then, he unfastened the rest of his shirt buttons.
Even with Etisha sleeping beside him, he showed no hesitation in disrobing.
As if her presence meant nothing. As if she didn’t matter.
He finally sat on the bed, bare-chested.
The mattress dipped under his weight, causing the sensitive Etisha to stir.
“Mmm…”
Cayenne gazed down at her with jet-black eyes.
Her light pink hair, flushed cheeks, and closed eyelids looked delicate enough to vanish with a touch.
‘Foolish.’
That was what he always thought when he looked at her.
Why didn’t she seek revenge? Why didn’t she want it?
She had all the power to crush those who once oppressed her. So why…?
His gaze drifted downward.
From her small, pale face, to her slender neck, rounded shoulders, and narrow waist.
Impulsively, Cayenne reached out.
Not to her body—but to the fabric of her dress.
He grasped the gleaming, magic-infused hem in his large hand and sneered.
“Ha.”
This dress had been designed by the same capital designers who once dismissed Etisha, now sewn with their finest magic to redeem themselves.
He’d promised to commission a new wardrobe once they arrived in the North, but there hadn’t been time before today’s sudden celebration.
Cayenne gripped the dress hem tighter.
The skirt crumpled dangerously, and as the fabric slid upward, Etisha’s thin legs were revealed.
Why was he this angry?
Why…?
The dress tore with a sharp rip. And just then, Etisha’s lashes fluttered.
“Ah… mm.”
She opened her drowsy eyes and looked at the man beside her.
Her blue eyes, hazy from sleep, looked more defenseless than ever.
“Duke…?”
She called out to Cayenne, but he didn’t answer. He only stared at her in silence.
That faint pink hair, those flushed cheeks, and eyes that shimmered like dewy jewels…
Cayenne’s expression hardened. He had almost let his raw emotions show.
“It’s nothing. Just go back to sleep.”
He had no intention of revealing his goals to anyone.
His past. Wintel’s shame. And revenge.
All of it was a darkness he planned to swallow and keep buried forever.
Cayenne let go of the torn dress hem.
Fortunately, Etisha quickly fell back asleep—likely thinking it had all been a dream.
“…Phew.”
He gently pulled the blanket over her and lay down beside her.
He intended to rest for a short while before leaving for the office early in the morning.
Etisha’s soft breathing echoed beside him.
Paradoxically, the seething anger he’d felt upon seeing her in that dress slowly began to settle.
Slowly.
Gradually…
Like turbulent waves calming after a storm, the sharp edge of Cayenne’s rage slid back into its sheath.
But Cayenne dismissed the shift in his emotions as nothing more than a fleeting illusion
