Until the sunset faded and silence descended.

It was around the 9th chime of the clock when Aden, who had been keeping his post without eating, finally stood up.

Already the third day.

A soft sigh lingered on Aden’s lips as he recalled the time spent without proper sleep.

Though unspoken, he was already quite exhausted.

However, not voicing it aloud was a separate matter from acknowledging it. Aden was desperate. Time was running out.

Like a terminally ill patient with little time left, he was using his remaining time most efficiently.

Today it was Beressa. Tomorrow it might be another vassal or local lord seeking the black barrier.

As more people question and defy the absolute leader’s orders, their influence wanes.

When that time comes, he wouldn’t be able to protect Ludmila. They would likely throw her to the wolves.

He already knew there was no one who would understand him after hearing the situation.

But that didn’t matter.

He had known since even before Benjamin first suggested it, when he jumped from the second floor holding Ludmila.

So those who opposed him didn’t concern him.

Aden only cared about one thing: Ludmila. Just that she would leave him.

War must not break out.

Aden was not unaware of this absolute truth.

From the moment he brought Ludmila, he had a few solutions for the consequences his unilateral actions might bring.

Among them, blackmailing the Crown Prince was the best option, but it would ultimately prove ineffective.

Then only one option remained. Aden removed the ring from his finger and placed it on the desk.

Rebellion, or expulsion. Even an absolute leader was not immortal.

If they rebelled and drove him out, the Kan clan could avoid war.

That all these actions were the unilateral decisions of the man Aden, not the head of Havertz.

If all the blame was pinned on him, the justification for war would disappear. When that time came, he planned to take Ludmila and cross the frozen lands.

A perfect ending with no war and no one getting hurt.

Aden was envisioning that end to the story. That’s why he had to move quickly.

Ludmila.

Before the woman who pathologically hated relying on others and causing them trouble drifted away from him.

Hoping this time, this would be the right answer.

“Master.”

What roused Aden from his reverie was Salom’s voice following a knock.

“Lady Ludmila requests to see you.”

The message from outside the door felt strange anew. How long had it been since she had relayed her intentions through Salom?

It was amusing to see Ludmila now keeping her distance after coming in and out dozens of times, but Aden calmly accepted this unfamiliar behavior.

“Come in.”

With that brief reply, he drew the blackout curtains to completely block out the faint light.

The moment he lit all the extinguished candles on the three-pronged candlestick to soften the darkness with a gentle glow, the door opened and Ludmila appeared.

Ludmila’s presence grew strongest in the darkness, and even now her eyes, red as her blood, held the bright candlelight.

As Ludmila closed the door and stepped into the halo of light, her face was brimming with vitality as if it were morning.

Aden chuckled at her beautiful appearance bathed in the soft light and tilted his chin.

“Looks like you slept well. I heard you slept so deeply you couldn’t even eat dinner.”

“I never thought I’d use this expression, but… I slept like the dead.”

Her face, with lips lightly pulled into a gentle smile, was as fresh as a newly bloomed flower.

Ludmila narrowed the gap with the desk and scanned the messily scattered documents with her eyes.

Her gaze, moving diagonally, stopped on the four empty coffee cups set aside.

“I hear you didn’t sleep.”

Aden calmly nodded with an unconcerned face. Ludmila’s gaze rose at his vertical head motion.

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Three days is fine.”

Of course, being fine and having no health issues were separate matters.

The coffee he had drunk to forcibly keep himself alert had made his stomach burn from drinking it on an empty stomach, and a mild headache had settled in his heavy head from not sleeping for days.

“I heard you didn’t eat either.”

“I was busy with work. I’ll eat now.”

It wasn’t a lie. He had been planning to order some coffee and a light meal, as there were documents he needed to finish reviewing today.

“If you’d like, we can eat together.”

At the invitation to dine together, which didn’t seem to be offered just to deceive her, Ludmila let out a small sigh and nodded.

Aden rang the call bell to summon a servant and ordered a light meal.

Ludmila watched silently until the servant closed the door and disappeared, then quietly moved to the side.

Retreating from the halo of light into the darkness, Ludmila settled onto the couch and lightly patted the space beside her.

Aden stared blankly at the gentle tapping, as if inviting him over, then let out a sneer as he approached.

“Why sit here when there are perfectly good chairs?”

“Because it’s dark and quiet here.”

Though anywhere the candlelight didn’t reach would be the same, her action of ascribing meaning to it was amusing.

But even that was welcome, so Aden obediently followed her wish. As he sat down, the quietness Ludmila spoke of settled in.

Except for their gazes looking in different directions, the space was so silent only their breathing could be heard.

After carefully observing Ludmila, Aden lowered the corners of his mouth that had risen slightly.

Something had changed. Though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what, Aden readily acknowledged that his relationship with her had shifted.

The cause could be their conflict and misunderstanding, or perhaps the trigger was the secret revealed in the process of turning back time.

Ludmila’s appearance was no different from when she left this place, but this silence was not the same as then.

They couldn’t go back.

The tower he and Ludmila had built here had crumbled, leaving only traces that something had existed there.

He knew they would have to clear away those remnants to build again.

But he couldn’t do so, fearing that if even those were removed, there would be no evidence left that anything had ever existed.

That foolish attachment tried to build an unstable tower again on top of the remnants. Even knowing it was the wrong action, he wanted to believe it was the right answer.

“Do you want to lie down?”

Tap tap—

Aden’s gaze moved reflexively at her light gesture.

Ludmila’s hand was tapping not on the sofa, but on her own thigh.

Aden looked at her with bewildered eyes, taken aback. At his gaze that seemed to ask if she was serious, Ludmila answered with a calm smile.

“I’ll pass.”

“Don’t be like that, come on.”

What led Aden, who was refusing, was a gentle hand.

Ludmila grabbed Aden’s collar as he tried to get up, and didn’t stop there but pulled him.

Though it wasn’t a strong force, his body, soaked in fatigue, was easily drawn as if pulled by a magnet, and when he came to his senses, his head was resting on Ludmila’s thigh.

Something was wrong.

Aden tried to quickly raise himself, but the moment Ludmila’s hand touched his forehead, he had no choice but to stop abruptly like a broken machine.

The hand that touched his forehead was very cool.

Aden swallowed a wry laugh at the welcome coolness that soothed his head, feverish from fatigue.

“Why are you suddenly offering your lap? What if someone sees?”

“Is that something a person who brought me here would think about?”

Ludmila, looking down at him, smiled brightly, leaving Aden at a loss for words as he lightly bit his lip.

“I just wanted to let you sleep a bit. I thought it would be good to do this here, since you probably wouldn’t sleep even if I told you to.”

“I didn’t know you were such a considerate person.”

“I know, right? I just learned that I’m the kind of person who easily offers her lap like this.”

Ludmila, still smiling, willingly averted her gaze and looked ahead.

“Perhaps, it’s only possible because it’s you.”

Her calm voice gently resonated through the room where darkness had deeply fallen.

Silently looking up at her face, Aden suddenly recalled the time he had spent with Ludmila in the sunroom.

Missing that period when the restrained silence of their conversations was welcome, Aden wanted to rebuild the remnants of the collapsed tower once again.

“Come to think of it, aren’t you curious?”

He wanted to return to the season of that day when he had met her and created memories one by one.

“How I…”

“Can we talk about that later?”

But Ludmila brushed off without hesitation the fragments he had managed to grasp.

“After you sleep first. I want to have a conversation with a clear mind.”

Along with a quiet and calm voice as if soothing a child, a gentle hand stroked his head.

Looking at Ludmila’s face smiling down at him softly, Aden could tell that what he was feeling was anxiety.

Aden’s lips parted slightly as the sound of the clock chiming in the distance reached his ears. Ten times.

Time had already drawn close to midnight.

“I’ll sing you a lullaby.”

Smiling as if truly dealing with a child, Ludmila closed her eyes gently and slowly opened her lips.

A sweet humming flowed through her melodious voice.

As if seeing a painting with warm and soft colors, the melody she created penetrated his ears, gradually making him realize how surreal this scene was.

In the darkness that filled the room, created by the halo of candlelight.

The hand stroking his head, the beautiful humming, the tickle of hair brushing against the back of his hand, and the echoes of dreamlike sensations led Aden.

Into his own shelter filled with tranquility and coziness.