“I see. It would’ve been nice to see the nanny’s face just once.”

It was a regretful remark. I had missed seeing her face after such a long time.

“If you missed her that much, why didn’t you just bring her along when you got married? She always took such good care of you. The Duke of Ferhaem wouldn’t have objected.”

That was true—but I couldn’t bring her, because I couldn’t let anyone discover this was a contract marriage. If the nanny found out, she’d surely faint on the spot.

“But the Duke’s estate would be an unfamiliar place for her. She’s grown used to the Orbetian estate. I was worried she’d suffer just for my sake if I brought her there.”

Weaslet, who had been listening, sighed deeply and scolded me.

“So you came here alone to the Ferhaem estate without bringing anyone? Worrying about others when you don’t even know what this political marriage entails. You should be worrying about yourself. You always neglect your own affairs while fretting over others. How can you not worry when someone else might get hurt?”

I felt like I was hearing the same kind of concern Ember used to express. I’d always tried not to do things that would make others worry about me.

Yet, it seemed my actions only made people around me more anxious.

“Alright, alright. Stop nagging.”

“Don’t just brush it off as nagging. Sometimes you act as if nothing about yourself matters.”

“Did I?”

Maybe I did. Weaslet looked at me as if I were something left behind on the riverbank, then replied.

“Never mind. If anything happens, I’ll step in.”

He said it so naturally, as if it were obvious. Seems he’s determined to play the role of an older brother properly. Normally, he’d be teasing me endlessly.

“Little brother, there’s something I’ve been wondering.”

“What is it?”

I couldn’t hear any movement outside. Since this involved Yezar, I had to ask quickly while he was away.

“You mentioned the Duke of Ferhaem once loved someone. You never told me who that person was.”

Even if rumors among noble daughters were one thing—if the rumor that Yezar loved Camileo had spread even to Weaslet—then something was clearly wrong. I needed to confirm it.

Weaslet smirked and looked at me.

“What, did you start genuinely liking the Duke? Well, he certainly is passionate.”

His teasing tone made my eyes narrow instinctively.

“Just answer the question.”

Startled by my cold tone, Weaslet hesitated briefly, then gave me the answer I wanted.

“Well, the person was a man. At the time, rumors circulated that the Duke of Ferhaem was a man-lover. They said he was in love with His Majesty the Emperor.”

The rumor among noble daughters matched the one Weaslet had heard. Who could have spread such a rumor about Yezar being a man-lover, and for what purpose?

“At first, I dismissed it as absurd nonsense. But among the noble daughters, it was treated as fact. There were plenty of stories about it, and it was strange—given his handsome looks and prestigious family—that he’d never been linked to any noble daughter in a scandal.”

Of course. He already had someone he loved, so how could he possibly be involved in romantic rumors with others? Given his steadfast nature, he would’ve kept a clear boundary with other women.

“But back then, there were three people who often spent time together. Hermine, the current Empress, was part of that group too. It’s strange that no rumors ever linked her to him. That’s what bothers me.”

This was exactly what I found suspicious. Normally, noble daughters would be jealous of a young lady smiling among the empire’s most eligible men.

In the original story, Julietta suffered harsh treatment from the male lead precisely because of such jealousy. It made sense—nobles would resent a girl from an insignificant family lingering near the crown prince.

“It does sound odd. But rumors are like that—they spread in unpredictable ways.”

Weaslet tried to soothe me, telling me not to overthink it.

“Anyway, that rumor was completely dispelled once you married him, and judging by how restless the Duke of Ferhaem was today, he clearly isn’t a man-lover. So why dwell on it?”

“It just feels unsettling.”

I wish I knew exactly how the rumor started. My secluded life at the count’s estate had definitely left me ignorant of such information.

“It’s understandable if it makes you uncomfortable as his wife.”

“It’s not because I’m his wife—it’s just unsettling…”

“Wife.” I was getting used to being called “madam,” but occasionally, moments like this made me feel awkward and self-conscious.

Weaslet glanced at my reaction and abruptly said,

“Can I ask my little sister something too?”

“What do you want to ask?”

“How do you address the Duke of Ferhaem?”

“Well, either ‘Your Grace’ or ‘Yezar.’”

I shrugged, giving him a look that said, “What’s the problem?” Weaslet shook his head.

“No wonder it feels so cold.”

“Isn’t that better than calling him ‘my darling,’ ‘honey,’ or ‘baby’ like some people do?”

At my retort, Weaslet glared at me. I glared right back. His pet names were just too cringeworthy.

He turned into a soft, pudding-like mess around his new sister-in-law.

“Well, at least he doesn’t treat you poorly, so I’ll let it go.”

“It’s not that he’s cold—he’s actually very kind. You’re the one who misunderstood.”

Weaslet didn’t agree with me. He still wore a skeptical expression. He was just too suspicious by nature.

How kind would he have to be before Weaslet dropped his suspicions? I certainly didn’t have the courage to openly display affection. It would be too embarrassing.

The clock’s second hand ticked steadily, and outside remained quiet.

“He must’ve stepped away on purpose to let us talk in peace. The fact that he hasn’t come back yet says it all.”

Then, perhaps it was best to discuss things here that I couldn’t bring up in front of Yezar. This was family matter. I chose my words carefully.

I had no idea how Weaslet would react.

“Weaslet, did you recently hear something about Mother?”

Talking about Mother was taboo in the Orbetian household—especially coming from me. After all, she had passed away early due to complications from childbirth.

Julietta, remembering how she’d once been ignored, had never brought up Mother in front of them. Maybe she didn’t even realize she was avoiding it instinctively. Perhaps she was afraid of being rejected again.

“Where did you hear about it?”

His voice was unusually calm.

“I overheard it at a gathering I attended with a married couple. They said I’d inherited Mother’s talent. That was the first time I learned Mother had been a promising knight.”

No one could understand how confused I felt. I’d simply loved swords, enjoyed swinging them like a child thrilled by a toy. To learn that this was actually a trait inherited from my mother—suddenly, I realized no one had ever told Julietta anything about her.

“Weaslet, why didn’t you tell me anything? Other family members might not have known I handled swords, but you knew.”

Why hadn’t they told me? It was Weaslet who first encouraged me to take up the sword.

He’d pushed me forward, saying it was better than being stuck indoors. I remembered clearly—his smiling, encouraging face. But what had he really thought inside?

“There was no good in telling you. If I had, you might’ve tried to become a knight like Mother.”

“Then you should’ve stopped me. You could’ve found me another job and forced it into my hands.”

The reason I started swordplay was trivial—mere boredom. I’d just been looking for something to do. At my words, Weaslet gave a bitter smile.

“How could I? Seeing you so happy with a sword in hand, I couldn’t bring myself to stop you. I remember, from when I was very young, seeing Mother wield a sword.”

His voice carried a deep nostalgia—longing for a mother neither Julietta nor I had ever truly known.

“They say childhood memories fade, but that moment was crystal clear. The way she swung her sword without hesitation, the speed with which she overwhelmed her opponent, the look in her eyes—pure joy—it left a strong impression on me, even as a child.”

“That was before she had me… right?”

Weaslet answered calmly.

“Yes. It was the story of Mother at her most radiant.”

I gasped for breath. Such a brilliant woman had spent her days after my birth drifting from bed to bed, her life fading like a wilting flower with each passing year.

Was that why they had hated young Julietta? Was the child who had taken away all of Mother’s brilliance so unbearable that they chose to ignore her?

“Julietta, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. But I truly couldn’t. The way you handle a sword—it’s no different from how Mother used to. I knew Father wouldn’t let that go unnoticed.”

I knew Father had loved and missed Mother more than anyone. In young Julietta’s memory, after Mother’s death, Father threw himself into work. He acted as if he couldn’t survive without burying himself in duties.

I couldn’t miss the fleeting sadness in his eyes, even as he looked at me with boundless affection.

“But the reason I didn’t stop you… was partly because I selfishly wanted you to continue. That talent—Mother’s gift to you—I didn’t want you to give it up.”

It was a sorrowful confession. Why didn’t anyone understand? The child who once held that brilliant talent was already gone.

And even if that child had survived, she wouldn’t have pursued that shining potential—she would’ve only craved others’ affection. Why doesn’t anyone see that…?