WRDP 08

Chapter 08

As he had said, the “perfect life of a duke” that Valderion envisioned included even marriage, one of the major affairs of life.

Among the blueprints of that life, the betrothal with the House of Floyden—an arrangement maintained since childhood—was fairly solid. If it became known that a Name counterpart had appeared, this matter would immediately begin to unravel. If it was only one-sided anyway, there would be no need for the issue to surface at all. For now, it was better to keep it hidden.

“Poor Lyrette…”

Dailen rested his chin on his hand and murmured while watching the clear stream of water flow with a crisp, refreshing sound. Beneath his calmly lowered eyelids, his lazily half-open blue eyes were so opaque that it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

“Fine, then.”

The next moment, those eyes took on an unnaturally bright sheen.

“Since it’s the wish of my dear friend, I’ll grant it as you desire. However, there’s a condition.”

“A condition?”

“If, after one year, Lyrette’s Name does not manifest, then return her to me.”

Valderion frowned before he could stop himself.

“…Return her?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“…”

“She was originally mine.”

What kind of whim was this now?

As always, it was an erratic temperament that had never once been easy to understand.

Even though it hadn’t been long since he had said, “She’s yours now, take her,” and handed Lyrette over.

But since Dailen was the type to change his words whenever it suited him, Valderion did not even consider pointing it out. The Crown Prince was someone who became more exhausting the more sincerely one dealt with him.

“If the Name does not appear, she’ll be useless to you anyway.”

At those words, Lyrette’s tense, trembling figure came to mind.

A beat later, he wondered why he was even thinking of such a thing.

He answered not with words, but with a slight nod.

The atmosphere grew faintly frozen, as though winter’s chill had seeped into the air.

A few days later.

Valderion, who had been busy with state affairs since early morning, left his office after a sudden report from his butler prompted him to adjust his attire.

As he had felt during his recent conversation with Dailen, the air still felt layered with thin sheets of ice. A guest arriving in winter, without any prior notice.

He had already been informed of who it was.

Valderion could not decide whether he should point out the impropriety of the visit or worry that she might have come seeking some clue regarding her situation.

“Lady Camille Floyden.”

Inside the reception room, the woman in an ivory dress adorned with sapphire decorations lifted her head at the call. Her tangerine-colored hair swayed as she moved.

Camille rose, gathering her skirt in her hands, and offered a greeting.

“I hope you have been well.”

“Yes. And I hope my sudden visit hasn’t inconvenienced you, my lord.”

Valderion curved his lips into a faint smile as he walked toward her. When expressionless, his face was cold enough to resemble a blade of ice, but his striking appearance softened with even the slightest smile.

It seemed no different for his fiancée, Camille, as she could not take her eyes off him.

“I hadn’t heard from you since the last banquet, so I took the liberty of coming here.”

Her expression—carefully concerned about whether she might be causing trouble—was almost excessively endearing.

She truly was a woman who ruled high society.

Camille knew exactly how to appear lovable. And that, Valderion thought, was precisely why he continued the engagement.

If she was to become the mistress of House Eustutia, she had to be capable of dominating high society with ease.

The last banquet.

That would have been about a week before Dailen summoned him to the palace. In other words, right after the banquet ended, he had become entangled with Lyrette and had been unusually busy ever since.

“His Highness the Crown Prince even sent a gift for the two of us.”

“A gift?”

“Yes. Tea leaves from a foreign merchant group visiting the empire. They’re a specialty from a region in that country and are quite famous. He sent a letter as well, saying he hoped you and I would enjoy them together and strengthen our bond…”

So it was an impulsive gesture—but one clearly backed by intent.

Dailen had interfered unnecessarily again.

Valderion crossed one leg over the other as he mentally summarized the cause and effect.

“His Highness has gone to great lengths to be considerate.”

Camille, who had been stealing glances at him nervously, broke into a bright smile at his response.

“Oh, I heard there’s a glass conservatory here.”

“There is.”

“Would it be possible to have tea there together?”

Valderion stood without hesitation.

“The path to the glass garden is outdoors, so it will be cold.”

“It’s fine.”

Camille smiled brightly, her face full of lively energy.

For a brief moment—just an instant—Valderion thought of a woman who always looked pale and exhausted.

But it was only a fleeting impression. The moment he stepped forward, it faded away like an afterimage.

Meanwhile.

Lyrette pressed her palm against the cold glass window. The chilling sensation struck her fingertips without hesitation. Her eyes, looking outside, held little vitality.

Then something entered her view.

A man and a woman who had come out of the eastern building and begun walking together in the garden.

The woman was unfamiliar, but the man was impossible not to recognize.

The owner of this estate.

The owner of this room.

And the owner of the name engraved on her back…

From a distance, it was obvious the two were close. The noble lady—presumably an aristocratic young lady—clung to him like a bird, chattering incessantly with a bright smile. Even from afar, Valderion occasionally smiled in response.

They looked like a well-matched pair.

That alone was enough for Lyrette to infer their relationship.

‘He has a fiancée.’

In high society, marriage was a tool used to expand power by binding families together, so arrangements were often made from a young age. Betrothal was the foundation of that preparation. As a great noble house, House Eustutia would have been especially thorough.

‘Now that I think about it…’

Lyrette turned her head slightly while still touching the window.

Since arriving here, she had not seen a single servant other than the butler. Not even a physician. Everything was handled either by Valderion himself or by his direct orders through the butler.

Reflecting on that closed-off situation, she had no choice but to realize.

‘Is he hiding me?’

There was still no word that could define her relationship with Valderion. Their connection was fluid. And until the one-year period he mentioned ended, it would remain unsettled.

Whether this so-called divine “joke” was mutual or one-sided would only be decided at the end.

If it was mutual, perhaps things would be different. But if it was one-sided, he had said he would not interfere no matter where she went. In other words, that meant abandoning her.

If that happened, he would remain firmly in place as Duke Eustutia, having lost nothing.

And to ensure that reality could come true, the duke was likely hiding her from the world entirely.

“…”

Her gaze slowly lowered.

When she moved her ankle slightly, the chain around it made a heavy metallic sound, asserting its presence. Lyrette’s dull eyes flickered slowly, as though assimilating with it.

Under Valderion’s precise plan, Lyrette needed to prepare as well.

And to do that, she first needed to escape this restraint.

There was only one key that could solve it.

“What would it take for you to remove this?”

That night, Lyrette asked Valderion, who had come to her room.

It had been a long time since he last visited, since the day they nearly came to physical blows during her resistance.

Valderion paused before even taking a seat, caught off guard by the question thrown at him.

He looked at her resolute face and let out a faint laugh.

“You might as well entrust a cat with guarding fish.”

“I won’t run away.”

As if her words did not even reach him, he leaned on the back of the sofa and looked at her properly.

“I understand my situation now. And what I truly need.”

As she spoke, she seemed almost obedient, eyes lowered neatly. Compared to her usual defiant and sharp attitude, this subdued demeanor felt unfamiliar.

He glanced at her ankle while leaning against the sofa.

And then at her unstable posture.

Her condition had worsened in just a few days. That realization made his brow tighten.

“Do you really understand?”

Valderion sat down, loosening his cravat.

“The Name is said to be the thread of the soul.”

He let the cravat fall to the floor.

“In the sense that it binds two souls together.”

“….”

“If the Name becomes mutual, our conditions resonate as well.”

“Resonate?”

Lyrette tilted her head slightly, not fully understanding.

Valderion continued in a low voice.

“If your health is unstable, it affects me as well.”

“….”

“If you suffer, I suffer too.”

His gaze slowly lifted.

Their eyes met.

“The same applies to death.”

“If you die, I die as well.”