The maids were flustered by the sudden appearance of the Duke and exchanged glances with one another.

One of them cautiously opened her mouth, seemingly unaware that she had said something inappropriate.

“We were just saying how fortunate it is that Her Grace has returned safely. We spoke too loudly. We apologize.”

At her words, Raymond’s expression gradually turned cold. The maids, unaware of why he was reacting this way, grew tense.

Meanwhile, Raymond’s anger had risen to the very tips of his hair. Had the castle been in such disarray these past few days simply because of these baseless rumors? It felt not just absurd, but outright disrespectful.

“My wife has not yet been found.”

“What? But….”

The maid mumbled, confused. The other two maids stirred and then recounted what they had just witnessed.

“We clearly saw her just a moment ago.”

“So did I. She even responded to us. The fair-skinned, blonde woman—wasn’t that Her Grace?”

As the testimonies continued, Raymond’s brow furrowed, then suddenly his eyes widened.

Among the residents of Autumn Territory, hair color ranged from deep orange to light brown, and blonde hair was extremely rare.

For a fleeting moment, he felt as though he had found a clue about his wife—a delusion, despite knowing full well how impossible it was.

An urgent question burst out.

“What color were her eyes?”

“Ah, that….”

The maid stammered. Though given time to answer, all three maids hesitated, unable to speak clearly. Their demeanor was completely different from their earlier confidence.

They knew well that the Duchess had green eyes.

But they couldn’t recall the eye color of the woman they had just seen, which troubled them. Aside from the strikingly blonde hair and pale skin, no other features came to mind.

She briefly considered lying and saying the eyes were green, but the Duke’s waiting presence felt far too ominous.

In the end, the maid confessed honestly.

“I simply can’t remember. I apologize.”

“Do you really think that’s acceptable?”

Naturally, sharp rebuke followed, and the maids quickly bowed their heads.

He was incredulous, yet didn’t sense they were lying. That made it even more difficult. He had no idea where to begin correcting this ridiculous rumor.

“Did you call that person Her Grace?”

“Yes. And when we did, she kindly responded to us.”

Even more certain now was that someone with blonde hair inside the castle was pretending to be his wife.

Raymond’s gaze was growing dangerously sharp when suddenly Dante poked his head out from under the hood behind his shoulder.

[You must’ve seen wrong! There’s no way anyone in the world could be as pretty and kind as our Yerpi!]

“Oh, Master Dante!”

The maids gasped upon recognizing Dante.

Since the first banquet, Dante had become a well-known figure in Autumn Castle. His reappearance after staying out of sight since the Duchess’s disappearance was even more surprising.

The maid, momentarily distracted by the young dragon’s cuteness, recalled Dante’s words and quickly defended herself.

“We’re not lying at all… Ah, look, she’s coming here!”

Just then, another maid, her voice bright with relief, turned her gaze to the end of the corridor. A blonde woman was walking toward them.

Raymond’s pupils trembled. For a brief moment, he mistook her for his wife.

But she didn’t carry the scent he expected. The sweet, honey-like fragrance that should have been unmistakable even from a distance was absent.

Up close, the woman’s eyes were a deep violet.

“Charlotte Deilang.”

The woman approaching him was the Duchess’s younger sister. Dante reacted first.

[Eeek, what are you?!]

Frightened, Dante arched his back and bared his teeth. Raymond’s momentarily wavering gaze turned icy.

He had assumed she’d simply stopped coming to deliver meals due to fear, never imagining she’d pull such a stunt.

Regardless of the two dragon-bloods’ reactions, Charlotte calmly gave orders to the maids in a gentle tone.

“You may all leave now.”

“Ah… Excuse us.”

Judging the situation to be unpleasant, the maids hurriedly retreated.

Charlotte watched them scurry away with an amused expression.

As she tilted her head, her golden hair, shimmering like flowing honey, curled gracefully.

The same color as his wife’s—far from comforting, it twisted Raymond’s insides.

“Why did you dye your hair blonde?”

Of all times, why now?

At the end of his question, Charlotte faced Raymond.

Seen head-on, Charlotte’s face bore no resemblance to Yerpi’s. He felt disgusted with himself for even briefly mistaking her.

Yet, despite Raymond’s accusation, Charlotte seemed entirely unperturbed.

In fact, she smiled sweetly, as if pleased by the attention, further irritating him.

“You might have been startled since I didn’t inform you beforehand. Actually, I was naturally blonde. Since most former Saintesses had silver hair, I dyed mine silver from childhood following Father’s wishes. Now that the time has come, the color has simply faded away. The dyes used by our family and the temple were special—I couldn’t find a way to obtain them here.”

It was an obvious lie. But even if her claim were true, pretending to be the Duchess and wandering the castle was utterly unacceptable.

“Why did you allow the maids who called you Her Grace to remain in that delusion?”

“They looked pitiful, waiting so anxiously for my sister. If some mistook me for her, I wanted to reassure them.”

He wanted to ask if she thought that made any sense, but Charlotte remained completely calm. Then, unrelated to his question, she brought up something entirely different.

“Don’t you think I look very much like my sister?”

He wondered what her intent was in asking such a thing.

But recalling the kind of face that would happily accept such attention made even asking feel repulsive.

“Charlotte Deilang. I will not tolerate you imitating my wife. Should this issue arise again, I will expel you immediately, without exception. Remember that.”

At the stern command, Charlotte fell silent. Before turning away, Raymond finally gave her the answer to her earlier question.

“And you and my wife don’t resemble each other at all.”

[That’s right. Who does she think she’s comparing herself to?!]

Dante stuck his tongue out at her from atop his perch in agreement.

Raymond brushed past Charlotte. With long strides, he quickly distanced himself, while Dante shivered.

[Ugh, so unpleasant. She’s still watching us.]

Charlotte simply stood there, silently smiling as they departed.

Even as Dante shuddered, Raymond did not look back.

Once they turned the corridor corner and Charlotte was out of sight, Dante’s grimace finally subsided.

The child vented his frustration by gnawing pointlessly at Raymond’s hood.

[So unpleasant. That woman smells like Yerpi. But she’s not Yerpi.]

“What did you just say?”

Raymond stopped abruptly at the foot of the stairs, as if he had heard nonsense.

Dante, too, was startled and replayed his own words in his mind.

[Huh? What did I just say?]

Realizing he had blurted something absurd, Dante quickly clamped his own mouth shut. Raymond let out a sigh.

The longer Yerpi remained absent, the more both he and Dante were consumed by anxiety.

[I miss Yerpi…]

The still-incomplete young dragon-blood sobbed softly. Raymond held the weeping child as he continued down the stairs.

A servant from Autumn Castle, rushing upward, recognized the Duke and brightened.

“My Lord, a mage has just passed through the gate.”

“Let’s go now.”

At last, some good news. He would ponder the strange matter later.

After all, he believed every problem would be resolved once his wife returned.

The mages who had passed through the gate quickly rode their horses to the front of the castle.

Led by Mercadi, the mage unit consisted of specialists in search operations, particularly sensitive to magical energy.

“We greet the Duke.”

Mercadi’s face was grim as he faced Raymond.

The mage vaguely felt responsible for the Duchess’s disappearance.

“Let’s begin the meeting immediately.”

The meeting to search for traces of Yerpi lasted deep into the night and adjourned just before dawn.

Raymond returned to his chambers, passing through corridors dimly lit by indirect lighting.

The first thing he did upon entering was gently place the sleeping Dante beside the bed.

[…Yerpi…]

The dragon-blood, intermittently calling the Duchess’s name, tugged at his heart.

Just as he began to rise, Dante’s small hand tightly gripped his finger.