The door slammed shut right in front of Hille, who had frozen like a pillar of salt at the sight of that overwhelming curse.

Unable to even think of knocking on the door, Hille collapsed to the ground, engraving the beast’s howl in his ears. When that howl suddenly cut off as if sliced by a knife, he scrambled backwards on his behind, got up, and ran for his life in the opposite direction.

His pants became soaked, and sobs flowed from his mouth without tears. There was no time to feel shame.

He felt he would never forget those red eyes that had glared at him as if to crush him to death, even after he died.

***

The court physician Hille fell ill.

Butler Gustav saw Hille finally collapse from afar and promptly pushed him into the guest room.

A butler administering sedatives to the court physician’s mouth. Just as he was thinking the court physician’s initiation was quite eventful, a message came from the guard at the main gate.

Gustav delivered it to his master with a pale face.

“The carriage is still there?”

As day broke and Clard regained his composure, he opened his eyes and asked Gustav.

Creak— Creak—.

The body sprawled in the old rocking chair that was never allowed to be oiled showed no sign of getting up.

The butler gritted his teeth, thinking that if he could change anything in this bedroom, he would start by oiling that annoying rocking chair, and replied:

“Yes. There’s no coachman, but there’s a faint sign of life inside the carriage…”

“You must have heard wrong.”

Clard cut off Butler Gustav’s words as if he didn’t want to hear any more.

His indifferent gaze passed through the air and turned to the window.

Through the slightly opened curtains, the snow that had been falling every day was falling without fail this morning as well. The butler, observing the faint furrowing of his brow, added:

“Perhaps you should have gone out when Duke Lev briefly asked you to come out yesterday?”

“If I went out every time I was told to, I would have experienced eight farewells in front of the mansion by now.”

Butler Gustav hesitated for a long time before speaking again.

“Actually, I was the one who went out to check at dawn, Your Highness. The new Consort asked if His Highness the Prince was allowed to come in.”

A look that said he had done something unnecessary flew at Butler Gustav. But the irritation passed right through Gustav and went straight to the new bride.

“My permission?”

Clard snorted.

“What a bold dream.”

Gustav watched Clard’s expression as he gathered up the blood-soaked bed sheets.

The stains were from Clard stabbing the back of his own hand every night to endure the pain that erupted like a volcano.

Bloodstains were scattered here and there on the plush carpet and wooden floor.

The large, dark bedroom looked not like the room of a noble prince, but like the quarters of a warrior returning from a cruel massacre. It was surprising that he was still alive after losing so much blood.

It was too much blood to have come just from stabbing the back of his hand, but everything surrounding Clard was out of the ordinary, so questioning it would only give one a headache.

Butler Gustav swallowed and hurried to tidy up the room.

The skilled old butler’s hands were full of the intention to clean the room rather than irritate his master by relaying news of the former Crown Princess that he wouldn’t care about anyway.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“Tell her I don’t want to hear again that I’ve killed several wives, so get lost.”

Clard ordered while nervously fingering the back of his hand that the butler had treated.

Butler Gustav approached closer to Clard’s side and bent his upper body.

Clard glared at him as if he were the ninth wife outside and snapped coldly:

“If she doesn’t want to go back, tell her to die. But not in front of my house.”

Gustav hesitated for a moment but soon bent his waist in half as if used to it and disappeared, carrying the blood-stained sheets.

Only after the bedroom door clicked completely shut did the rocking chair bearing the tired and sensitive master’s body begin to creak again.

Creak— Creak—.

On a winter morning when the whole world was white.

Clard’s night finally arrived in his bedroom.

The pearl-like eyes that still sparkled even though they had lost their light were slowly covered by eyelids.

The jaw of Clard, who had clenched his molars tightly as if ruminating on the painful night that had just passed and gauging the pain to come, gradually relaxed. Soon, Clard Yufris’ dark bedroom fell into perfect silence.

Until then, Clard didn’t know.

That his ninth wife would be there for three more days.

***

Butler Gustav really didn’t want to say anything that might irritate this sensitive former Crown Prince.

But there was a fact that had to be told to this master who, despite looking like a corpse lying in a coffin, absolutely hated the shadow of death falling on his house.

“Gustav. Have you lost your mind?”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness. But how could I lay hands on the Consort’s body? I’ve only seen those who left on their own feet, but in this case…”

The terrible fact that the former Crown Prince’s ninth bride had stubbornly persisted for three days. That is, if you count the nights, for four days.

Clard, who had been lying listlessly on the bed, got up.

Clard, who rarely looked out the window he usually treated as a decoration, approached it closely and faced the scenery visible through the white frost. His irritated gaze quickly scanned outside the window.

Beyond the snow-white field that hurt the eyes and the iron fence, a humble carriage still standing stubbornly was visible.

It was two days ago when he had snorted at the suggestion that they should at least provide a cotton blanket and a small brazier.

It was just yesterday when the servants’ jokes about needing to prepare a coffin had drifted into the bedroom.

“In fact, I’m not sure if she’s still alive now, Your Highness. The maids are too scared to even go near, saying they’re afraid of seeing a corpse, so the confirmation has been delayed…”

One of Clard’s eyebrows shot up at the implication that this was no longer the servants’ jurisdiction.

Assuming the woman was alive, the solution was simple.

Either bring that stupid and stubborn woman into the mansion and provide her with a warm place, or put something warm into that pathetic carriage.

If the former, she would die in this mansion, and if the latter, she would die there protesting until exhausted.

Since he disliked both, there was only one choice.

Clard knew how to make that uninvited guest run away at once.

It was a sure-fire tactic that had never failed.

After a long silence, Clard’s dry lips opened.

“All servants to their rooms. Not even a mouse should be able to move around the mansion or entrance.”

Gustav quietly bowed his head, not daring to look up at Clard’s irritated face.

***

Louise knew she wouldn’t live long.

Even after spending over 10 years recuperating in the south as a child, and even after Yuan endured working in the lab and tried all sorts of medicines, Louise’s illness was not cured.

Nosebleeds that burst out of nowhere. She would often cough up blood if she overexerted herself, and even when running healthily, she would suddenly collapse in an instant.

It was different from the frailty caused by thin bones and lack of muscle. Even outwardly, there was no difference from ordinary people.

Father said it was the Peliesse family’s hereditary disease.

A disease that always afflicts one or two people in each generation.

A terminal illness that leads to early death at a young age.

Fortunately, it didn’t manifest in Father’s generation, but Louise couldn’t escape it.

The reason Yuan endured the pain inflicted by her uncle and stayed at the Peliesse mansion wasn’t just because of her lifelong wish for a home and family.

It was because of the hope that if she helped with the numerous experiments her uncle conducted in the laboratory, she might find a way to cure Louise.

Yuan squeezed her eyes shut even tighter, which had become heavy with ice.

Even though she knew Louise would die earlier than others, she didn’t know if Louise had died of natural causes.

The rumors about Former Crown Prince Clard Yufris were very bad, and he might have killed Louise or worsened her condition.

‘I have to ask.’

A new home. A new family.

It was where Louise had rescued Yuan from the hell of Peliesse and brought her, but living as given and accepting it were different matters.

At the very least, Yuan needed to know how Louise had died and what her final moments were like in order to bury Louise in her heart as well.

Only then did it seem possible to live in a world without Louise, where Louise had brought her.

“Ugh—”

When she tried to wiggle her frozen fingers, it felt like her whole body was screaming. The feeling in her fingertips had long since disappeared.

Yuan, who had spent several nights thinking and rethinking about what to say if she met Former Crown Prince Clard Yufris, now found it difficult to distinguish whether this was a dream, reality, or an illusion.

That was because everything around her was now completely silent.

Even the occasional murmuring voices of the guards had abruptly stopped.

The sound of the arm-thick bird’s beak pecking at the carriage roof was no longer heard.

Even the sound of the desolate winter wind seemed to have stopped.

Was she dying?

No, was she already dead?

Should she try to shout towards that mansion before she died?

To ask what Louise’s final moments were like. To ask if he had been a kind husband to Louise.

Just as useless imagination was filling her head—

—Clunk!

Along with the sudden sound, sharp air poured onto her face. The cold that she had barely kept at bay lashed her entire body.

Between her furrowed eyes, black pupils flashed briefly.

Unlike the cold air, the warm sunlight that poured in caressed her eyes painfully.

Yuan ignored the screams her body was making and creakily got up.

Only when she had half-raised her body did she finally manage to fully open her crumpled eyelids.

There was a man standing in front of her, backlit by the pouring light.

“Ah.”

Former Crown Prince Clard Yufris.

No one had introduced him as such, nor had he introduced himself.

But this sensation of goosebumps rising all over her body, separate from the cold, was clearly from seeing with her own eyes the appearance of the man she had only heard rumors about.