There was a separate art room in the villa. It was the newly furnished art room Aden had mentioned.

As he said, it was well-ventilated and shielded from sunlight, while also offering a panoramic view of the Radman River when the window was opened.

Moreover, as if deliberately planned, a white plum tree was visible on the riverbank beyond that window.

As Ludmila silently gazed at the scene, she smiled bitterly at Aden’s thoughtfulness, pondering what he might have been thinking when he created this place.

The view from up here and the white plum trees to be placed there.

He had created her art room here, adjusting the delicate height and distance.

And this was during the time when he harbored misunderstandings about her. What could have been going through his mind? With what thoughts did he arrange these things?

She might not have returned. He might never have seen her again.

Knowing this, Aden still gathered traces of Ludmila here and created things for her.

As if cherishing lingering attachments he couldn’t quite discard, in this villa placed on a sunlit stretch of the river.

Perhaps Aden too had leaned against this window and looked at where the white plum tree stood. Now she was here, gazing at the same place as him.

The same scenery, the same wind, the same air. But harboring different thoughts.

A future where they couldn’t reach each other, where they wouldn’t be able to reach each other.

As her thoughts reached that point, Ludmila turned and closed the window. She drew the curtains as if cutting off the scenery.

It was then, as Ludmila turned towards the dark room she had created, that her eyes fell upon something standing in one corner.

A pure white cloth was covering something, pressing it down.

Ludmila silently gazed at the object that looked like both a canvas and a frame, then slowly pulled at the cloth.

With a rustling sound, the cloth fell away, revealing her own painting framed in an expensive gold-trimmed frame.

The painting she had gifted to Aden. That painting was preserved intact in the frame.

Feeling momentarily breathless, Ludmila exhaled deeply and bit her lip.

All of Aden’s emotions as he came here, created the art room, arranged the riverside, and organized the villa were contained in this single painting.

In the end, this villa was a place for him to reminisce about the memories he shared with her as a person.

Like a museum, it held all the traces and footprints left behind by the person named Ludmila.

Quietly reaching out to caress the painting in the frame with her fingertips, Ludmila let out a small laugh.

“…I said it was unfinished.”

As Ludmila stared blankly at the painting hung in its frame, unfinished, she shifted her gaze to one side.

“Ludmila.”

It was then that Beressa appeared in the open doorway.

Turning towards Beressa as she shifted her gaze, Ludmila nodded briefly at her call that the meal preparations were complete.

Once again silently gazing at the frame, Ludmila covered it with the cloth before quietly turning away.

Ludmila left the art room and the door closed.

It was late morning, with sunlight unable to penetrate the blackout curtains, scattering broken rays across the windowsill.

Kedilen’s face was contorted with grief as he emerged from the press conference.

Just moments ago, Kedilen had wailed at the press conference as a husband overwhelmed by the anguish of having his wife snatched away before his eyes.

It was a place to denounce Aden, the terrible man who had stolen his wife again after he had barely recovered her.

Over 30 reporters, gathered after receiving prior notice, asked Kedilen about the exact circumstances.

As if following a predetermined course, he vilified Aden with a version of events tailored to his advantage.

The actions Aden had committed, as they came from his mouth, were so shocking that even the listening reporters were taken aback.

Of course, such things were not unheard of.

Wars fought over a single woman appeared occasionally in myths and were recorded countless times throughout thousands of years of human history.

But to steal a woman once and then steal her again was unthinkable.

Moreover, the fact that the couple in question was the Margrave and Margravine Erdi, and the one who stole the Margravine was Aden, the lord of Habertz, known as the tumor of the empire, was not just sensational but like pouring oil on fire.

Thanks to this, the reporters’ questions didn’t stop, and their pens kept rolling over their notepads.

When Kedilen finally burst into tears, the barrage of camera flashes seemed to indicate how well the morning papers would sell the next day.

“Good work.”

Kedilen, who had returned to the waiting room clutching a handkerchief with difficulty, rolled his eyes at the perfunctory praise thrown at him.

It was the new aide appointed after dismissing Baron Ferington.

Kedilen’s expression changed as soon as the door closed, as he stared blankly at the crisply folded new handkerchief.

A strange elation settled over his face, which had been deeply furrowed with a reddened complexion.

Snatching the handkerchief, Kedilen sat down in a chair, moving his jaw.

His hand was even jovial as he loosened his bowtie with satisfaction.

“The reporters’ reactions were quite fervent.”

The aide approached Kedilen, hurriedly offering water and delivering a report tinged with flattery.

Kedilen, indicating his satisfaction with a brief nod, grasped the glass.

“What happened to the editor-in-chief of the Herbon Daily?”

It was a question referring to Dexter, the editor who had previously received a letter from Ludmila and published an article.

The aide took out a notebook, checked its contents, and smiled briefly.

“As you instructed, after the press conference ended, we confiscated his notebook as he was leaving and politely requested that he not publish the article. He was flustered and insisted it was absurd, but we sent him away like gentlemen.”

“That’s good news.”

Kedilen, his lips curling at the satisfying news, moistened his lips with the glass.

Currently, the hottest topic in the empire was undoubtedly the pair of lovebirds, the Erdi margravial couple.

It was shocking enough that the one who stole Margravine Erdi was Aden, but the news that he was alive and not dead.

Added to that, the story of him abducting Ludmila once again was enough to incite public outrage in the empire.

Of course, the story of Kedilen trying to kill Ludmila in a fit of rage and Aden preventing it was not disclosed.

There was no need to take risks with the surest way to manipulate public opinion.

As a result, public opinion towards Habertz was at its worst, and the imperial family, especially the Crown Prince, who had maintained a lukewarm attitude, could not ignore the public sentiment.

As the perception and attitude towards Habertz had been negative, this incident seemed to be the fuse, with many opinions saying that Habertz should be excised or that policies to improve it should be established.

At this point, the Crown Prince would likely start to move.

After failing to pursue Ludmila and Aden, the Crown Prince had been hesitant to touch Ludmila, avoiding meetings with him under various pretexts.

As if he had some kind of weakness.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know what it was. He was probably worried about the fact that he had tried to kill Aden being revealed.

Knowing this well, he had created public opinion that could cover up all such weaknesses.

Now all that remained was for the Crown Prince to step forward personally, eliminate Aden, and become a hero.

And he could recover Ludmila, achieving greater recognition and honor than before, and creating an achievement that would put the Crown Prince in his debt.

“My lord, someone has come from the imperial palace.”

A voice rang out along with a knock on the door just as he was about to empty his glass.

Kedilen, adjusting his posture, put on a mask full of sorrow once again in preparation for any situation and looked at his aide.

Understanding the eye signal, the aide opened the door, confirmed the content from the person standing outside, then turned and approached Kedilen.

“It’s someone from the Crown Prince’s palace. He said he would like to invite you to dinner tomorrow evening.”

The aide held out the letter he had received from the person.

‘J’. Kedilen curled his lips as he took the letter, confirming that clear initial indicating who had sent it.

The meeting dragged on and finally ended on the morning of the third day.

No definitive conclusion had been reached. Throughout the meeting, both sides remained firm in their positions.

Those led by Muniar said they would risk their lives in war if only Aden gave the order, but Kurto’s side consistently maintained the attitude that Ludmila should be returned.

War must be avoided. They persistently clung to that one conviction.

Even as the dialogue continued like this, the differing opinions of both sides couldn’t find a point of agreement, and as time went on, Aden grew increasingly tired.

“Then, we’ll return and make preparations. Please don’t worry too much and get some rest.”

Neser, who had stayed until the end, gave a gentle admonition to Aden as he boarded the carriage.

Only after finishing with an embrace that conveyed concern for his grandson could Neser take heavy steps away.

Aden, silently watching the departing carriage, ran his hand through his hair with tired eyes.

Things might not be as easy as expected.

Aden realized that his plan couldn’t proceed smoothly the moment Kurto, in collusion with the Crown Prince, clearly understood his intentions.

Kurto would insist on returning Ludmila with all his might.

If that proposal, which he knew he had to refuse, continued, eventually even Muniar would likely seek a compromise regarding Ludmila’s whereabouts.

Just one woman. That woman precious to him was merely trivial to others.

For them, the weight of the lives of over hundreds of thousands of clan members and one woman was different.

Knowing this, he couldn’t blame them. Even Neser had subtly inquired about Aden’s thoughts without speaking directly.

As Aden was about to turn and enter the castle, staring blankly at the distant carriage with tired eyes, Salom came running from the castle with an urgent expression.

Salom, approaching with what looked like a letter brought by a messenger, hurriedly shouted.

“The imperial family has issued an ultimatum!”

The countdown to war. Only one step remained before the declaration of war.