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Chapter 26
“No one in the history of the Grand Duchy has ever owned the Palace of Nyx. This is a joyous occasion, Lady Psyche.”
The Palace of Nyx.
Named after the goddess of night, Nyx, it was a rare place where a vast space was enclosed entirely in glass.
When the sun shone, the light filtered through the transparent glass, making the interior glow. It was nearly impossible to visit during the day.
But the palace revealed its true value after dusk. From within the Palace of Nyx, one could witness the aurora painting the sky in a rainbow of colors.
A palace meant to exist with the deep night—just like its name.
“It only opens when there’s a great celebration in the Grand Duchy!”
Psyche had heard of it before. And she understood what it meant to be gifted this beautiful palace.
“You shall have the most magnificent state wedding on the continent.”
A grand royal marriage.
Yes, that’s what it meant. Something Psyche had never dared to imagine before coming here.
A beautiful wedding. The Archduke’s excessive generosity. All of it would help Psyche live in the Grand Duchy.
Her heart trembled. But at the same time, she felt a suffocating discomfort she couldn’t explain.
To hide her tangled feelings, Psyche gently curled the corners of her lips into a smile.
—
* * *
At the boundary between the pitch-dark night and early dawn, Psyche stepped into the darkness of the grand palace.
Even in the dimmest night, the Palace of Nyx sparkled. It was beautiful. No, “beautiful” wasn’t enough. It felt like a place filled with divine wonder.
The reflective surface of the palace shimmered with the colors of the sky—it was not something humans could have made.
Each time Psyche stepped forward, her footsteps echoed like ripples across the vast interior.
Would the Archduke come looking for me while I’m away?
She waited for him, eyes wide open, until the sky turned pale with morning light. But Psyche spent the night alone.
It was expected. The Archduke rarely sought her out.
He never came to her once the darkness started to lift. So this strange excursion would remain a secret, known only to the night and to Psyche.
Creak.
Suddenly, a heavy door opened with a loud noise.
Psyche turned toward the sound.
“Your Grace?”
A voice laced with uncertainty. But there was no answer.
She closed her eyes.
Even without seeing—she could feel.
She remembered his footsteps. She knew his scent.
She opened her eyes again. The door had opened and closed, but the view remained shrouded in darkness. Still, the moonlight shining through the windows made it not completely dark.
Creak, creeaak.
A screeching sound, sharp enough to tear through her eardrums.
A strange scent filled the air. If scents could be colors, this one was blue.
The steps were unfamiliar. Barely audible, yet something seemed to drag heavily across the floor.
The discordant noise had no clear source. It could have been metal scraping the ground—but the sinister atmosphere made it hard to breathe.
“Are you an uninvited guest?”
Psyche clenched her fists tightly. Slowly slipping off her low heels, she readied her legs to flee if needed.
At that moment, the clouds parted, revealing the moon that had been hidden in the mist.
The interior, cloaked in night, was suddenly exposed.
Moonlight flooded in with a mystical glow. Beneath it stood a black silhouette, staring at her.
I can’t see his face.
He was easily over 190 cm tall, with broad shoulders. Yet his physique wasn’t just monstrous—it was a harmonious blend of large and fine muscles.
The moonlight made his figure appear even more striking.
The man wore a robe that clung to his upper body, squinting and lowering his head as if the light bothered him. At last, Psyche could take in his features.
Silvery hair with a cold gleam.
Something dangled from his earlobe—perhaps an earring?
Lord Aster?
As if entranced, Psyche took a step toward him.
“Stop.”
“…”
“I do not permit it.”
Psyche’s steps halted in place.
“Don’t come any closer.”
“Your Grace?”
The voice that entered the palace was unmistakably the Archduke’s.
“Yes.”
“Why are you here?”
“Perhaps for the same reason you are.”
Psyche went silent. She, too, was on a secret nighttime stroll.
“Don’t come closer. If you see me, you’ll be disappointed. You might even call me a monster—become afraid.”
His head remained bowed. Had it been a little brighter, perhaps she could’ve seen his face even in that position.
“Is that why you’ve kept your face hidden from me all this time?”
Now certain the man bathed in moonlight was the Archduke, Psyche took a step forward without hesitation.
The chill of the marble floor crept up her feet. But the colder it got, the sharper her senses became.
“If you had remained only in the dark, I might have chosen not to see even if I could, and not to feel even if I sensed something. But tonight, Your Grace, the sky is perfectly clear—without a single cloud.”
A night without clouds. The Palace of Nyx, a gift he gave her out of the blue.
Coincidences, but they aligned too perfectly—as if carefully calculated.
The moonlight poured down the truth.
Perhaps that’s why curiosity surged in her, impossible to contain.
A kind of longing that wouldn’t fade until satisfied. Now that it had awakened, she would always be curious about him.
“Psyche Clement. Are you truly not afraid?”
“Your Grace.”
“If you desire, I could show you this face countless times. But no love can bloom in a heart occupied by doubt.”
Psyche listened quietly.
Then, lifting her head, she spoke slowly.
“You, too, doubt me and can’t bring yourself to trust me. Yet you expect me to not even harbor suspicion toward a fiancé who never shows himself—and to love and embrace you regardless of your appearance?”
Under the moonlight, her pink eyes began to shine with resilience.
“I don’t care what you look like.”
“Humans are hypocritical. They say it doesn’t matter—until they actually see it. And once they do…”
Snap. A crisp sound of fingers.
Suddenly, glowing white butterflies swarmed in like an illusion. They surrounded Psyche, even blocking her view.
“…they deeply regret facing the truth.”
But her hearing sharpened, and she raised her voice.
“I don’t care…!”
She inhaled deeply, and continued.
“Of course, it would be nice if you were handsome. But appearance alone isn’t enough to fall in love. Love happens when all of someone’s good qualities come together like a puzzle and fit perfectly into my heart.”
The tone, the personality behind the words, the kindness in their actions.
When the humor in small, trivial conversations clicks. When such moments make her smile just a bit more—those are the ingredients of love, Psyche believed.
But just as she was speaking with such conviction, she suddenly fell silent.
…Because she realized she was unconsciously describing him in her mind.
When clear blue eyes trembled as if gauging her thoughts, when he pretended to be indifferent but radiated surprising warmth.
Why am I thinking about Lord Aster…?
She had never once thought she loved him—or even questioned it. She did have a human affection for him, but that had never crossed into romantic feelings.
“…Your convictions are admirable.”
The Archduke murmured. Then, the butterflies gently lifted Psyche into the air.
“I should be angry… and yet, I’m not.”
“Put me down, Your Grace!”
Lifted into the air in an instant, Psyche cried out in fear.
“I won’t. Sweet dreams, my lady.”
With another snap, blue light enveloped Psyche—sending her into a sleep that felt eternal.
—
* * *
Under the sky tinged with the faint light of dawn, the man propped his chin up on the platform, watching the girl asleep in the arms of butterflies.
What lit them was not warmth, but a shadow so cool it could barely be called light. Ironically, it made her face appear even more beautiful.
Her reddish eyelids and straight nose seemed like a masterpiece molded by the gods. Her gently breathing lips carried a touch of life.
“You haven’t changed at all since you were young.”
Still as lovely and precious. But that was all.
He reached out as if to touch her cheek—but drew his hand away.
Raising a finger, he tapped his knee. Instantly, blue flames erupted.
From within the fire, a white engagement contract floated in midair.
[Engagement Oath]
He tilted his head as he gazed at it—then mercilessly burned it.
Black ash fluttered through the air and slowly sank to the ground.
A piece that hadn’t fully burned tumbled down and quietly vanished.
[…Lady Psyche Clement of the Empire agrees to erase from memory any
knowledge of the secret of Archduke Kalepothego Aster de Hylde of the Grand Duchy of Hayer, including their past encounter.]
