Demian entered the mansion with a tired face. He came due to a sudden summons from the Duchess.

Recently, his complexion had been very poor. It was because he had been plagued by nightmares and unable to sleep properly since returning to his family home.

‘Why do I keep seeing that time…’

Demian frowned. He was in a very low mood due to recurring dreams showing his mother’s death.

He was so on edge that he felt like he could explode if someone just touched him lightly. He could feel that he himself was in a precarious state.

Heaving a deep sigh, he suddenly noticed a maid walking from the opposite end of the corridor.

It was Audrey, Arasila’s personal maid.

As Demian was about to turn his gaze away after glancing at her briefly without much thought, what caught his eye was the dress she was holding.

‘That’s… my mother’s dress?’

He could recognize it at a glance as a dress his mother often wore when she was alive.

Demian stopped Audrey, who was trying to pass by with a polite greeting to him.

“Where are you going with that dress?”

“Huh? Oh, wine was spilled on the dress, so I’m taking it to the laundry.”

“What―?”

Hearing that his mother’s dress had been ruined, Demian took the dress with a hardened expression and examined it closely.

Due to a fairly large wine spill, half of the hem was stained.

No matter how hard one scrubs, it would be impossible to completely remove this stain. There’s also a high chance the fabric could be damaged in the washing process.

Demian, who had already been frequently reminded of his mother due to nightmares these past few days, was greatly agitated.

Since the Duchess often enjoyed destroying his mother’s keepsakes in front of young Demian, he was sensitive about such issues.

And now, another of his mother’s keepsakes had been ruined. He furrowed his brow at the situation that reminded him of his powerlessness back then.

“Who was in possession of this dress? And who spilled the wine?”

“Ah. Well…”

Hearing Demian’s voice that sounded almost like a growl, a flustered Audrey rolled her eyes around.

She had been waiting outside the door when Yona and Arasila were talking, so she didn’t know the specific situation.

When Audrey was called in, what she saw was a wine bottle shattered on the floor, and Arasila holding the wine-soaked dress.

“The lady had it, and I’m not sure how the wine was spilled. It seemed like she dropped the bottle on the floor…”

Audrey explained to Demian exactly what she had seen, trying her best to avoid any misunderstandings.

However, just hearing that his mother’s dress had been in Arasila’s possession made his eyebrows twitch.

“Where is the lady now?”

When he asked almost accusingly, Audrey reflexively pointed towards the reception room. And at that moment, Yona rushed out of the reception room.

She was startled to see Demian holding the dress, then hurried out almost at a run.

Demian paid no attention to Yona’s presence and went straight to the reception room with the dress. And he came face to face with Arasila, who was just walking towards the doorway.

He stood before Arasila with the angriest face he had shown so far.

Arasila became bewildered, not knowing why he was holding the dress that Audrey had taken away, and why he was in such an angry state.

“Demian, why the expression…”

“How did you get your hands on this dress?”

Demian abruptly held out the dress to her. His voice was low and subdued.

Glancing briefly at the dress, Arasila answered calmly.

“I just received it as a gift from Viscountess Fanning. I heard she was once close to your mother, do you know…”

“Then did you ruin the dress?”

If the source of the dress was an old friend of his mother, it wasn’t entirely strange. They could have kept it as a keepsake of their friend.

However, Demian was only angry that his mother’s dress wasn’t treated with care, regardless of how it was obtained.

“Actually, I didn’t spill the wine myself. Why are you suddenly…”

“Why did you carelessly ruin the dress!”

As Demian raised his voice directly at her for the first time, Arasila’s eyes widened in surprise.

Extremely flustered, she inadvertently made a slip of the tongue.

“No, why are you yelling over that mere dress?”

From Arasila’s perspective, it was literally just a dress, and she couldn’t understand why he was getting so angry over it.

But Demian took it differently. It sounded to him as if she was dismissing his mother’s dress.

“Mere dress? Did you just say ‘mere dress’?”

His hand gripping the dress tightened.

At any other time, he would have judged rationally and attempted a conversation, but he was not in a state to do so now.

Having lost sleep due to nightmares, his nerves were frayed, and when his greatest weakness – his mother – was touched upon, he lost his reason.

“This is my mother’s dress. It’s a keepsake.”

“What?”

At the unexpected revelation of the dress’s identity, Arasila was momentarily speechless. She waved her hands with an even more flustered expression than before.

“No, I didn’t know. I didn’t do it on purpose…”

“Why do you speak so carelessly about things you don’t know? Even if it were just a worthless dress, does that mean it’s okay to ruin it like this?”

Demian sharply cornered her. Due to his heightened mental sensitivity, his tone became as sharp as when he was wary of her in the beginning.

“If I hadn’t met your maid carrying this dress, you would have treated it as a mere dress and discarded it. Isn’t that right?”

At his words that were almost an assertion, Arasila shook her head vigorously in denial.

“Absolutely not! Demian, I’m sorry. I really didn’t know it was your mother’s dress. I’m truly sorry, but… why are you getting angry without even listening to me?”

If I had really harbored ill intentions and deliberately damaged the dress, I wouldn’t feel so wronged.

In fact, it was Yona who spilled wine on the dress, but since Demian wouldn’t listen to her, she also felt a surge of anger.

Was it just her imagination that their relationship had somewhat improved?

While she understood it was a situation to be angry about, seeing him just getting angry one-sidedly made her feel hurt.

“Did I do it on purpose? I made a mistake because I didn’t know! And it wasn’t me who ruined it…”

“Enough. If I continue talking with you here, I feel only harsh words will come out.”

Demian cut her off again arbitrarily. Arasila, who was about to raise her voice once more, hesitated. His frowning face looked quite emaciated.

Since when had Demian’s condition become like this?

He always had a sharp jawline, but this was too much. He was in such a gaunt state that the contours of his face were more prominently visible.

While Arasila was examining the dark shadows under his eyes, Demian was staring blankly at his mother’s ruined dress. Then he spoke in a suppressed voice.

“Well, how would someone like you who has lived such an easy life understand.”

“…What did you say?”

“How would you, who has lived easily like a flower in a greenhouse, know anything? You can’t even imagine how I feel right now.”

Arasila, who grew up kindly and happily with good parents, an older sister, and a younger brother, would never be able to understand his family circumstances, his feelings.

That a dress treated as trivial by some could weigh heavier than a rock on his heart.

While Arasila was at a loss for words, Demian turned around and left without even a farewell. Arasila couldn’t stop him.

Left alone, she muttered.

“Who lived an easy and comfortable life…”

The relationship between Arasila and Demian rapidly cooled.

It felt colder than strangers, making one wonder if this is what it’s like when people who are worse than strangers become a couple.

In fact, Arasila had attempted to apologize and initiate conversations several times, but Demian repeatedly refused, which greatly upset her.

You don’t like me? Well, I don’t like you either.

With that mindset, as they distanced themselves, things became uncontrollable. The two avoided seeing each other unless necessary, to the point where Colin and Audrey were worried.

And upon hearing the news of their cold war, the Duchess’s mouth split into a wide grin.

“Finally, things are going as I desire.”

She wore a satisfied smile while getting her nails done by a maid.

No one knew better than her that Demian’s weakness was the former Duchess.

Using the former Duchess to drive a wedge between the couple was a wise choice.

From the beginning, she had Yona approach Arasila for this purpose, deliberately giving her the dress as a gift and instructing her to damage it.

Originally, she had planned to show Demian the discarded, ruined dress to provoke him, but him encountering the maid taking it to be washed wasn’t a bad outcome either.

“Both Viscountess Fanning and you deserve praise.”

The Duchess’s gaze shifted to the side. There stood the head maid, hands clasped respectfully.

“Thanks to you changing the candles at the right time, a hole has been created in that child’s mind.”

“No, Madam. Without your wisdom, I couldn’t have devised such a plan.”

“Hoho, is that so?”

The Duchess wore a pleased expression.

To stimulate Demian’s trauma, she had secretly mixed herbs that would evoke past memories into regular candles through the head maid.

The scent of that candle would have unconsciously enveloped Demian the entire time he had it lit to illuminate his room.

“Hugo’s daughter has foolishly made a choice that will label her a divorcee. It’s all her own karma.”

The Duchess smiled as she plotted to exploit the growing rift between the two and induce a divorce.

‘Both mother and son will meet the same miserable end with no one by their side.’

She quietly assured herself.

When people fall ill from anger, they can’t sleep well at night.

Since her relationship with Demian had awkwardly deteriorated, Arasila found it difficult to close her eyes at night due to feelings of injustice. She would often kick off her blanket and get up in anger just as she was about to fall asleep.

‘Do you really not know that I’m not that kind of person?’

Although it wasn’t a marriage out of love, they had been living as a couple for several months now, so she thought they would have understood each other to some extent.

Arasila was not someone who would carelessly handle another person’s precious belongings.

Calling it a ‘mere dress’ was indeed her mistake, but it was just that – a mistake, not intentional.

Yet, Demian’s anger over that one slip of the tongue, lashing out at her without even listening to her side and then leaving, made her feel hurt.

Moreover, every time she extended an olive branch for reconciliation, he would avoid it with a tired face.

Just this evening, Arasila had requested a conversation with him after dinner, only to be harshly rejected.

“Demian, let’s talk.”

“I’m tired, let’s do it later.”

“When is later? What hour, minute, second?”

“Don’t be childish. When my emotions settle, I’ll handle it myself, so just stay put.”

Saying that unilaterally, Demian left. Arasila felt dumbfounded.

What do you mean stay put? Am I a doll?

She now felt anger bubbling up in her own chest as well.

Even if that’s the case, they are husband and wife in name, is it okay to avoid conversation to this extent?

That’s not all.

‘I always accepted when he apologized.’

How can a person only receive and never give back?

Of course, there’s no law that he must do it just because she did, but still, she thought he could have accepted it this one time.

‘Ah, I’m so annoyed I can’t sleep.’

Tossing and turning, Arasila suddenly sat up. If this unjust state continued, she felt she wouldn’t be able to sleep even after returning to the capital.

It was questionable whether Demian would even soften his heart before returning to the capital.

‘This won’t do. I can’t live like this anymore!’

Unable to bear the frustration, Arasila threw off her blanket and left the bed without hesitation.

Hastily draping a shawl over her nightgown, she left the room. Her destination was Demian’s room.

Knock knock.

“Demian, it’s me. Open the door.”

Arasila knocked on the door and called out to him like a debt collector coming to collect money owed.

Naturally, there was no response from inside. After knocking a few more times, she turned the doorknob without hesitation.

She was determined to meet him and settle things somehow, even if it meant being a bit rude, as a good night’s sleep was out of the question until she had a heart-to-heart talk with Demian.

‘I guess he’s sleeping.’

Seeing Demian lying motionless on the bed in a straight position, Arasila deliberately closed the door loudly.

It was with the hope that he would hear and wake up on his own before she had to wake him. But Demian didn’t move a muscle.

While someone can’t sleep because of you, you sure sleep well.

As Arasila was inwardly being sarcastic, she suddenly thought something was odd.

‘But can a Sword Master really not sense this level of presence?’

Unless Demian was originally an insensitive person. It was somewhat strange that he didn’t wake up despite her making loud footsteps.

Moreover, recalling Demian’s haggard face this morning that looked like he hadn’t slept well, Arasila approached the bed with suspicion.

Then, a scent she had smelled before strongly tickled her nose. It was that faint scent she had noticed in Demian’s room earlier.

‘Where have I smelled this before?’

The scent, which was like a subtle floral fragrance but with a sharp edge, was not unfamiliar.

She inhaled deeply through her nose. As the strong floral scent filled her nostrils, the memory seemed just out of reach.

‘So where have I smelled this before…’

As Arasila was lost in thought, she heard a low gasping sound.

“No, mother.”

Arasila, who had been standing at the foot of the bed, moved closer to Demian’s side. He was tightly gripping the blanket, his face contorted in pain as he called out to his mother.

Seeing him seemingly having another nightmare, Arasila furrowed her brow in sympathy.

And at that moment, she remembered what this scent was.