Before any words could be heard, Enrico’s hand was faster. He grabbed her waist and pulled her back. Emilia didn’t even think of escaping his grasp, simply remaining in his arms as she watched the bookshelf move.

The remaining books on the shelves suddenly disappeared as the back panel opened, and the now completely empty bookshelf creaked as it slid towards the room. Emilia stared blankly at the space beyond that had opened like a door.

“Interesting structure.”

Enrico muttered as he set her down. He had seen many secret rooms before, but it was his first time seeing one open like this, so he was intrigued.

“Ah, this is it. I went down these stairs!”

Behind the bookshelf was a small space just big enough for one person to enter, with stairs leading down to the basement. Enrico took a lamp from the room and led the way.

Emilia hurriedly followed behind him, watching his broad back as he descended without hesitation.

“…There must be a lot to examine.”

Upon reaching the basement, a space similar in size to the study appeared. There were dozens of boxes and many wrapped items.

Emilia slowly looked around and walked towards a box that seemed familiar.

‘Ah, that’s right. He jokingly said he would hide a treasure here and told me to come find it later.’

Seeing it now, memories she thought she had forgotten came flooding back. The box she had scribbled all over as a child was no different from a treasure chest to her father, he had said. Emilia slowly opened the lid of that box.

And finally, what she wanted was found. It was her father’s last letter.

Enrico raised an eyebrow at the unpleasant damp smell as he looked at Emilia’s small back. She had sat down in front of some dirty box and remained in that position since.

Suddenly, her slender shoulders began to shake. Enrico’s feet quickly approached her from behind.

“Hic, huu…”

Emilia was crying sorrowfully, dropping transparent teardrops. She looked so mournful that she could barely make proper crying sounds.

It was an incomprehensible sight. This woman had always shown a strangely blind side towards her family. To say it was due to guilt – there were too many emotions mixed in for him to distinguish.

He had used that family as her weakness, but the woman who had eagerly taken the bait seemed too foolish. Why sacrifice for those already dead? The thoughts that had been repeating since their first contract were reaching their conclusion.

What a sight, choosing to suffer unnecessarily when she had the ability to live as she pleased. At first, it was quite interesting from the perspective of using her. It was amusing how different she was from him, that such a person existed.

But the more he saw, the more frustrating her actions became.

‘What’s so great about family.’

For him, who couldn’t understand affection for family in the first place, Emilia Este seemed like an unsolvable puzzle. If only she had shown that blind devotion to him instead, her situation would have been much better than now.

“Is it that precious?”

At his low voice, she momentarily held her breath as she was shedding tears sorrowfully.

“…Pardon?”

Her trembling voice was full of incomprehension. Their gazes met in midair as she turned to look at him.

His expression was not visible. Emilia slowly unfolded her knees and stood up. He grabbed her arm as she momentarily stumbled.

“Why is family so precious?”

He repeated the question as if he needed to hear the answer. Perhaps because it was a place without light, his eyes looked particularly black.

“They’re already dead anyway. Why be so bound to them?”

Emilia slowly wiped her tears while not taking her eyes off him. She wondered if he was being sarcastic as usual, but his unsettling atmosphere made her agitated emotions naturally calm down.

He had a face that truly didn’t understand. Even though he was the one who had used the dead as her weakness, he looked as if he couldn’t comprehend why she was swayed by this.

Emilia looked at him with fresh eyes. The man who had been acting arrogantly without emotion all this time seemed different now. She recalled how he loved art more than anyone, but expressed it more like excessive possessiveness rather than cherishing it.

“…Because I love them.”

“What?”

“Because they’re my only family, and they loved me more than anyone else.”

Enrico’s fine brows furrowed. It was as if the very word ‘love’ itself was strange to him. His eyes seemed to be saying, so what is that anyway?

Perhaps this person doesn’t lack emotions, but simply doesn’t know them because he’s never experienced them.

Suddenly, a thought crossed her mind. The rumor that Enrico had never appeared in public after losing the previous king and queen in his childhood.

Just looking at how Alessandro and Enrico treated each other, the relationships among the royals couldn’t be considered good.

As Emilia’s silence grew longer, Enrico stared at her wet lips with an increasingly persistent gaze. The ticking of a clock seemed to urge her on.

Emilia looked up at him, lowering the ends of her eyebrows. Her tear-soaked eyelashes trembled slightly.

“No matter what I say, you probably won’t understand.”

She had a troubled expression, as if not knowing how to explain. Enrico tilted his head slightly to the side. Somehow, as his atmosphere gradually tightened like a noose, she finally lowered her eyes.

“If someday you have someone precious to you, Duke, then you’ll surely understand.”

“…Don’t avoid it.”

Enrico whispered in a low, husky voice. For some reason, when Emilia averted her gaze, it felt like a string he was holding had snapped.

Someone precious? It was too unfamiliar a concept for him. He had no need to pay attention to it, as it neither resonated with him nor seemed necessary. However, why did it bother him so much that Emilia avoided his gaze while saying those words? The veins in his neck stood out.

“…”

At his words, she looked back at him with a bewildered face. Only he was reflected in her clear eyes, still moist with tears.

Silence stretched between them for a few seconds as time quietly flowed. The unpleasant sensation from earlier melted away like snow in her eyes that held only him.

Was it because it was fascinating? Perhaps he kept asking because it was too strange that the first woman to pique his curiosity was dedicating her life to an unfamiliar emotion he would never know.

If it had been someone else, he would have just laughed it off and dismissed it as stupid, but was it because it was this woman?

“Um… Duke, could you please let go of my arm? I need to finish checking…”

Emilia squirmed slightly, glancing at him cautiously as the silence grew longer. He noticed her trying to gently free her captured arm while carefully holding the letter in her other hand to avoid crumpling it.

Something precious. Something he didn’t have.

Enrico’s dry eyes flickered.

Once, he had thought her a foolish woman. Even though she must have hated him for using her parents’ deaths, which she held so dear, she tried not to show it.

She was a woman who strived to control her emotions and just focused on doing her best at the tasks given to her. In a way, she might have an even stronger single-minded nature than him with his obsession with art.

What if that unwavering, straightforward affection were directed at him?

As soon as that thought occurred, he felt a chill. The problem was that he couldn’t clearly distinguish whether it was a shudder of disgust or a feeling from a different meaning.

Lost in thought, Enrico’s hand loosened. Emilia didn’t miss the opportunity and slipped to the side.

“I think I’ll need to check this place until late. You can go up and rest first.”

Enrico’s lips tightened slightly at her attempt to send him away, as if all she could think about was her family even in this strange atmosphere.

He felt an odd impulse. Even though Emilia was already his, he wanted to possess her completely. How could he make those eyes look at him? He wanted to know exactly where that chilling feeling from earlier had originated.

He quietly watched her carefully fold the letter and put it in her pocket without even looking at him, then spoke.

“What kind of letter is it?”

If he couldn’t understand his impulse, he might as well learn about that precious thing. He nodded towards the pocket containing the letter.

“Ah…”

She blinked for a moment, as if surprised he would be interested.

“We’ve come this far, shouldn’t I know too?”

“…It’s a letter my father left behind.”

That much was obvious. He was just curious about what exactly was written in it to make her cry. His eyes narrowed as he considered just telling her to hand over the letter.

“It seems my parents worried a lot about whether what they were doing might harm me.”

Fortunately, she spoke before he could. He relaxed his expression and listened quietly to her story.