“I wasn’t fine at all.”

I had merely tried to pretend otherwise. In truth, I desperately wished that just once, I’d come before work—that he’d make proper time for me.

But I had drawn a line, knowing he wouldn’t, because it seemed easier on my heart that way.

“The people of the Ferhaem Dukedom are kinder than I ever imagined. They keep giving me exactly what I’ve longed for, making it hard to want to leave.”

They were making me want things I never used to desire. At first, I was content with Yezar’s gentle care and comfort. Then I began to fall for him, and started wanting more.

My family was the same. Even if others didn’t visit, I didn’t feel too disappointed because I understood Weaslet’s heart—he still sent letters from time to time.

But now, being told there was no need to understand such circumstances—that I could be upset, angry, or even petulant when he neglected me because of work, and that they’d accept it all—made the dam I’d built inside collapse helplessly.

“This isn’t right. You know I’m weak against things like this.”

It should’ve been enough to keep good memories. I wasn’t supposed to want more.

“I’m not fine at all… Rather, it’d be better if we just kept a proper distance.”

Just like the servants at the Orbetian Count’s estate, who knew where to draw the line. Then I could respect that boundary and treat them as kindly as possible as their lady.

The longer I stayed here, the stranger I became. I couldn’t tell whether it was a good kind of strange or a bad one.

I was pressing a damp cloth against my swollen eyes from crying too much, gently pressing down, when suddenly the door creaked open.

Startled, I turned toward the door and saw Weaslet standing there. It had been quite a while, and at the same time, a fleeting thought crossed my mind—where was my sister-in-law? Why had he come alone?

They always stuck together like a pair. But something about Weaslet’s expression looked off.

“Hey… you.”

Why was he dragging out his words like this? He always spoke playfully before.

“Julietta, did you cry?”

Oh no. I quickly turned my head away and cleared my throat as much as possible before answering.

“There’s no way. What are you suddenly doing here, older brother?”

But my words didn’t work on Weaslet. He marched right up to me and pulled my face toward his.

Seeing my puffy eyes and red rims, Weaslet’s expression twisted sharply.

“You did cry. Why didn’t you tell me? If you’d said you were struggling so much…”

He ruffled his hair in frustration, clearly angry. For a moment, his gaze turned sharp, and without giving me a chance to speak, he stormed back outside.

Alarmed by a bad feeling, I quickly followed after him. When Weaslet wore that angry look, he usually caused a huge mess—this felt even worse.

“Wait, stop for a moment! Brother!”

He didn’t stop, no matter how I called. I ran anxiously, wondering what he was about to do, when I heard the sharp sound of a sword being drawn from its sheath.

Rounding the corner, I desperately hoped Weaslet hadn’t caused trouble with that damn fool. And then I saw it—Weaslet pointing his sword directly at Yezar’s throat.

“You damn crazy bastard! Why are you pointing a sword?”

Now he was completely ignoring me. Weaslet asked Yezar in a cold, icy voice:

“Duke Ferhaem. Why is my sister crying?”

What happened to the honorifics? And wielding a sword he barely knew how to use, right in someone else’s estate… Well, I had to admit, his temper was truly urgent.

“The lady cried, Your Grace?”

“Yes. No wonder I only saw the Duke at the main gate earlier. Did you deliberately hide my sister when I arrived?”

In Weaslet’s imagination, I was already an abused wife at the hands of her husband. It wasn’t like that at all, really.

Unable to watch any longer, I tried to step between them. But the moment Yezar spotted my face, he turned pale and asked me anxiously:

“Madam, your face… Did you really cry? Was it… because I failed to properly attend to my brother-in-law?”

“No, no! There’s been a misunderstanding.”

Completely ignoring the sword pointed at his neck, Yezar kept fussing over me. Weaslet noticed the odd situation and muttered in confusion:

“What kind of situation is this now?”

That was exactly what I wanted to say. I was the one who should be asking—what was going on?

***

“So you’re saying it was just dust in your eye?”

Nod, nod.

“And I just happened to walk in at that moment, misunderstood, and pointed a sword at Duke Ferhaem?”

Yes. Even after explaining the situation, this damn fool still wouldn’t easily drop his suspicion. The fact that he’d tossed aside all honorifics said it all.

“I was worried, Madam. Your eyes are swollen. Is a damp cloth enough?”

And Yezar, who kept worrying about me regardless of Weaslet’s suspicious glare, was still Yezar.

“Yes, I’m fine. You can stop checking my face now.”

His hand was firmly pressed against my cheek, carefully examining me. I’d been told to act affectionate, but not to cling like this.

“But the thought of you crying when I wasn’t around… It makes me so sad.”

“It’s nothing to be sad about. At this rate, Yezar might start crying.”

He really might. The way his eyes drooped as he looked at me suggested so. Just like Weaslet, Yezar seemed overly protective. And he knew full well I wasn’t the type to go around getting beaten.

“Shall I bring some warm tea? What kind would you like, Brother-in-law?”

“Anything.”

“Weaslet!”

“What?”

What was he doing, acting so childish? It wasn’t like they were in a competition.

“I’m sorry, Yezar. I’ll apologize on behalf of my thoughtless older brother.”

“Why should you apologize?”

“You’re treating so poorly the man who went out of his way to prepare everything for your visit? Straighten your attitude.”

Not only had he drawn a sword in someone else’s estate, but he’d pointed it at the man’s throat. If this were pursued, it could become a serious issue. But Yezar chose not to press the matter and let it go with grace.

“I’m fine, Julietta. I’ll bring tea. Please talk with your brother. Aren’t you happy to see him after so long?”

Well, yes, that was true. Yezar smiled gently and quickly wiped the corners of my eyes with his handkerchief.

“Still, please don’t cry when I’m not around. I don’t like the idea of tears forming on your eyes without my knowing.”

With that, Yezar left. I let out a deep sigh.

“After seeing that, do you still doubt?”

“He might just be especially kind in front of you.”

He clearly had no intention of dropping his suspicion. After all, he knew our marriage was political. I understood the logic behind doubting every little thing… but still.

“You’ve heard the rumors. Doesn’t the way he panicked when he saw my face seem genuine?”

“He did look flustered, I suppose.”

Then why wouldn’t he admit it?

“I get what you’re feeling, older brother. You can doubt all you want, but later on, make sure you apologize properly. I’ll die of guilt toward my husband otherwise.”

“Fine. I’ll apologize. Is that enough?”

Finally, hearing him agree to apologize, I breathed a sigh of relief.

“So where’s sister-in-law? Why did you come alone?”

Since Yezar had stepped away to give us privacy, I casually asked Weaslet. He immediately got defensive, as if offended by the question.

“I do have common sense. I came to see my sister after a long time. We planned our date for later in the afternoon. I was going to head over there afterward.”

“So you were worried about me?”

“Of course I was. You’re my only sister. Sure, rumors say you’re getting along well with Duke Ferhaem, but I still worry. You didn’t even marry for love—then what’s all this about disguising yourself and dating among commoners before the wedding? How can I not be suspicious?”

He’d been too busy teasing me in his letters before. Apparently, he’d been privately agonizing over this. No wonder his reaction was so intense.

“So the moment you saw me crying, you rushed at Yezar with a sword? You actually thought all of this was fake?”

Weaslet awkwardly coughed and looked away as he answered.

“…Yes.”

Maybe it was too embarrassing to admit honestly. He ruffled his own hair shortly after.

“So if anything happens, contact me. Understand? Doesn’t matter if it’s the Duke or anyone else—nothing’s more important.”

“Haha.”

“What’s so funny?”

“Well, it’s just… it was so reckless, pointing a sword you can’t even use at the commander of the Blue Knights.”

If he were skilled, maybe it’d be different. But wielding a sword poorly, rushing in angry all on his own—wasn’t that exactly what he did?

“You haven’t changed at all, older brother.”

“How could I change in such a short time?”

“That’s true. Still, I’m glad you came. It feels like ages since I last saw you. I’m happy.”

“What are you saying like that for…”

Since I rarely said things like that, he turned red and looked embarrassed.

“Hah, haha. Weaslet, your face is red!”

“What’s red? And call me older brother properly. Don’t shorten it again.”

After teasing him for a moment, I paused to catch my breath, then asked:

“Older brother, how is the nanny doing?”

He answered readily.

“She’s doing well. Why wouldn’t she? Though she does seem to miss you a lot.”

The gentle voice that used to call me “my little miss” echoed vividly in my mind, as if it had happened just yesterday.