I was blinking my eyes within the embrace that tightly held me. It felt like at least twenty minutes had already passed like this.

“Are you feeling better now?”

Then he pressed a cold ice pack against my cheek.

“Fortunately, it should subside by tomorrow, my lady.”

He was pretending not to know. It felt awkward being treated so tenderly in his arms, like a baby bird nestled in its mother’s embrace.

“Yes, I think my cheek will also be fine by tomorrow. So let’s… please move apart a little…!”

As I struggled to free myself from him, the cold ice pack touched my neck.

“Ah, it’s cold!”

“If you said you’d stay by my side, why do you keep trying to move away?”

Maybe it was my imagination, but Yezar seemed to be acting petty for no reason. I stared blankly at his face. He was looking back at me with his usual harmless expression.

As if nothing had hurt him at all. I tilted my head in confusion.

“Yezar, you know… what do you want to do from now on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… about Her Majesty the Empress?”

Yezar now knew that Bertisha had used him despite being aware of his feelings. That was why I asked.

Did he still couldn’t forget her, or did he hate her so much he couldn’t bear it? Depending on that emotion, I had planned to follow whatever Yezar wished. But his answer was completely unexpected.

“I feel relieved.”

“What…? You don’t feel betrayal or sorrow?”

Normally, upon discovering the true intentions of a woman one had loved for a long time, those two emotions would arise. But suddenly, relief?

“Yes. I always felt tied down by Her Majesty. I was blindly drawn to loving her, as if it were my fate.”

His words froze my body like stone. In the novel, him, the second male lead, loving the female protagonist Bertisha was fate. But I never imagined Yezar had subtly felt a sense of dissonance all along.

“But now that I think about it, aside from appearance, there’s nothing you can judge at first sight. I don’t understand why I followed her like I was ready to give up my life. Isn’t that strange?”

He was speaking to me with a genuinely refreshed expression, as if he had forgotten all the despair and agony he once felt, a faint smile playing on his lips like sunlight.

“…It’s not strange. Still, it’s true that you loved Her Majesty and suffered because of it, right?”

“Yes. That’s right.”

Though I already knew this, his clear confirmation stung my heart like needles.

‘Am I… jealous? How foolish I am.’

While in the novel I had clung to his devotion like a piece of paper, moved by his love.

While holding the position of Duchess Ferhaem, I felt an absurdly tender emotion, as if I were truly his wife.

While briefly lost in such feelings, he continued speaking.

“But when you’re in love, you feel jealousy, you become possessive, you wish the spot beside her was yours, and you grow to hate whoever occupies that place. Yet strangely, I never felt that.”

“…You never felt jealousy?”

Ah. That was true. He had always gazed sadly at Bertisha’s back. His noble character, willingly hiding his own feelings for her happiness, was beloved among readers.

“Yes. I simply wished for their happiness. Though I’m not usually such a selfless man.”

Yezar’s hand, which had been holding the ice pack to my cheek, gently wrapped around my shoulder. He leaned his face against my other, uninjured cheek and smiled.

“Sometimes I wonder—perhaps love isn’t something noble, beautiful, and full of sacrifice, but rather something ugly, filled with shameful jealousy, revealing a version of yourself unlike your usual self, and consuming your thoughts entirely throughout the day.”

It sounded unlike him. Yet strangely, I found myself nodding. Because I felt the same way.

Constantly, ugly jealousy would rise within me, my mind filled with thoughts of him all day, and only before him would I turn into a shy woman, blushing in embarrassment.

Unknowingly, his deep blue eyes were fixed solely on me. Suddenly, the atmosphere felt intimate. The sound of my swallowing carried tension.

It felt as if dark desire was about to surface. So I quickly shouted my reply.

“So that’s why you said you feel relieved now…!”

Then he slowly answered.

“Yes, exactly. I feel no lingering emotions toward her, nor any attachment—I feel completely freed. The only thing that bothers me is having touched you, my lady.”

His gaze, which had been locked on my eyes, shifted to my cheek, and I involuntarily let out a breath I’d been holding.

‘W-what was that just now? Seriously, that was close. I almost pounced on him.’

Regaining my composure, I covered my flushed cheek with my other hand.

“Now that you can’t see it, I’m fine. Ta-da, perfect, right?”

My words, spoken as if showing a child a magical trick, made him burst into laughter.

“Hmph. How could it be perfect? I’m not a child. No matter how you hide it, I can tell.”

Still, he kept laughing, as if something was immensely amusing.

‘Did I say something funny? I don’t think so.’

Soon, Yezar suppressed his laughter as much as possible, apologized, and brought the ice pack back to my cheek. Strangely, his eyes watching me seemed deeper, filled with more intense emotion than usual.

“My lady, you sometimes treat me like a naive child. Where would you find a grown man like that?”

His broad-boned fingers were clearly those of a mature man. Yet, in front of him, my vigilance constantly blurred.

I trusted that Yezar wasn’t that kind of person. Besides, even if he secretly did something bad without my knowledge, I wouldn’t particularly mind.

In fact, I was the one being careful, fearing I might reach out to him first.

“But Yezar, you’re the one treating me like a child left alone by the lakeside. You keep doubting and blaming me for every decision I make—about our marriage too.”

I was terrified that our married life was going so well it might never end.

Constantly blaming himself for marrying me was quite frustrating from my standpoint as his wife.

“That’s because… you’re far too good for me, my lady.”

“There you go again, saying things like that.”

I was tired of hearing such words. So I deliberately grumbled.

“I’m not a fool. No matter how much it’s a contract, I wouldn’t choose someone inferior to me as my husband. My husband now is Yezar, after all. So if you keep saying things like that, I really won’t speak to you for a whole day.”

It was meant as a warning. But for a brief moment, his widened eyes of surprise softened and gently closed. A warm voice, like melting snow, enveloped me.

“Yes. You said it was a marriage you wanted, and told me so. To me, you are only Julietta Ferhaem. You alone.”

“As long as you understand.”

I replied curtly, but it was only to hide the brief moment of fluster I’d felt. My heart pounded fiercely, as if asserting its presence.

‘Why…! It was just Yezar saying his usual affectionate words. Please, heart, just calm down.’

My unruly heart felt especially spiteful today.

***

After Julietta had left, Bertisha leaned back in her chair, sipping tea that helped calm her mind and body. Then she looked at her own hand.

The hand that had struck the Orbetian heiress’s cheek.

‘How could this happen…?’

Bertisha clutched her head. Ever since her long-desired marriage, everything had fallen apart.

Yezar, who had always circled around her, had cut off contact and avoided her. But it was fine. Yezar, who had been more sincere to her than anyone else, would naturally be devastated upon hearing of her marriage.

So she had left him be. Since Yezar had always wished only for Bertisha’s happiness, she was certain he wouldn’t stay away for long. She had been arrogant about it.

But the consequence of that arrogance came terrifyingly close to Bertisha. After welcoming another woman as his wife, Yezar had coldly drawn a line and distanced himself from her.

The smile he had always reserved for Bertisha was now given to Julietta Orbetian, that woman.

Though the eyes of all society had always been on Bertisha, this time it was different. Even her own radiant sun now gazed upon Julietta Orbetian, that woman.

Furthermore, Camileo had kept secret the fact that he met the Orbetian heiress, despite knowing full well that he clearly didn’t love her.

A secret had formed between them, who had never hidden anything. Like cracks spreading uncontrollably, it shattered Bertisha’s world, which she had believed to be perfect.

Fueled by rage, she lashed out, seizing the Orbetian heiress—the very cause of it all—and coldly attacked her. But the result was that she had committed violence she had never done before…

‘How ridiculous. I, who once shone so brilliantly, don’t even understand how I came to raise my hand in shameful jealousy.’

Bertisha carefully placed her hand on her belly. Within it, the fruit of her love with Camileo was breathing.

This, at least, was undoubtedly hers. Yet why did it feel so insufficient? She hated accepting the fact that something she desired was now beyond her reach.

Then, Camileo arrived at Bertisha’s palace. It was an unexpected visit. Bertisha slowly prepared herself and came out. But what she faced was Camileo’s distorted expression.

With a deep sigh, Camileo asked Bertisha,

“Your Majesty, I know pregnancy makes you sensitive, but why did you physically assault the wife of Yezar in the palace, where all the courtiers could see?”