Enrico opened the box-stone curtain and came in to sit on the chair. On the stage glittering with dazzling lights, the ballet performance was already in full swing.

He hadn’t wanted to come. Emilia, who kept trying to test his patience, irritated him, and he wanted to keep his distance because he felt unfamiliar with himself constantly reacting to her words. But this worry was something that had been repeated countless times before.

He couldn’t remember exactly when it started. Just that at some point, his gaze kept lingering on her, and unlike his previous thoughts that time with others was a useless waste, he began to seek her out first and try to spend time together.

‘Someday, when the Duke has someone precious, you’ll surely understand then.’

The first impulse upon hearing those words was curiosity about what Emilia’s steadfast affection really was. And what she meant by a precious person.

To think that he would have someone precious. He thought that would be harder to achieve than dying and being reborn. So he just wanted to try to shake her a little, to feel it indirectly.

But the more he did so, strangely, the more shaken he became, and her tears, which were just interesting at first, he wanted them to be shed for him, and later he thought he didn’t want her to cry.

He couldn’t have such thoughts unless he was crazy. Thinking it was just that he disliked seeing her cry. Acceptance and denial kept repeating.

‘…So don’t get hurt.’

My beautiful but foolish Emilia. Those words of concern, coming like an animal trying to approach a hunter who is trying to keep his distance, unexpectedly weighed heavily in his heart.

A person who sincerely worries about him, not out of pretense. What an unfamiliar existence.

Watching Emilia gradually show him openings, not knowing she was binding her own ankles, Enrico slowly reduced the conflict between acceptance and denial towards her. But that denial lost its strength at an absurd moment.

Enrico had always been alone and was used to it, but he hated the chilling silence.

In the moment when the surrounding noise ceased, even though no one had stayed by his side for long, he strangely felt more alone. Being alone was familiar, but why did he feel empty?

It was he who had compulsively started wearing a wristwatch due to the sensation that fouled his mood.

Yet to impulsively take off that watch with his own hands. In the house of a woman he had gone to on impulse, just for the reason of wanting to hear her sleeping breaths more clearly.

That time without the ticking of the watch’s second hand was filled only with the soft breathing sound, with a warm breath felt. Enrico began to think that he might have to acknowledge his own change, faced with her presence that made him feel completely full without any sense of emptiness.

The attending physician straightened up with a relieved expression. Recalling Enrico’s unfamiliar appearance just moments ago, fiercely urging him to immediately treat the woman lying down, he spoke more carefully than usual.

“The wound treatment went well. It’s best not to use your arm for a while and be careful not to let water touch it. You should apply the medicine every hour.”

“I understand.”

“And for the ankle, I’ve taken measures to reduce the swelling, but it would be good to get it examined again later.”

Letting the physician’s words explaining precautions to Zabeta go in one ear and out the other, Enrico blankly looked down at Emilia lying on the bed.

He was afraid Emilia might disappear along with the sparks as multiple lights burst. Yes, it was fear. The savagery that gripped his heart, incomparable to the moment he worried about Emilia getting hurt in Bakorta, still frightened him.

She who was supposed to be by his side no matter what. That she could leave due to an unexpected incident.

It felt like suddenly realizing something he hadn’t known.

Enrico slowly brought his fingertips to Emilia’s cheek as she slept quietly. Her soft cheek touching the back of his fingers was hot with fever from the wound.

Enrico gently stroked her cheek, slowly. As if soothing her, Emilia did not wake from sleep even at that affectionate touch.

“…You’re the one who shouldn’t get hurt.”

A low, husky voice filled the room. Zabeta and the physician had already left the room due to his ominous atmosphere, and only the sleeping Emilia and Enrico remained in the silent room.

His fingers that had lingered on Emilia’s cheek moved to the tip of her nose. Unable to shake off his unease at her complete stillness, he unconsciously sought out her faint breath. Even with the breath brushing his fingers, his hardened face would not relax.

With his heart pounding even at this weak breath, it seemed there was nothing more to ponder about her. No, perhaps it was something already foreseen but deliberately ignored. After all, that day in Bakorta when he rushed in to save Emilia, that action had already proven everything.

To think that he would risk his body for another. To say he protected her because she was a weak woman, since when had he been a man who cared for gentlemanly virtues and championed ancient chivalry? He had disgustingly covered his own eyes and gagged his mouth.

He finally closed his eyes tightly, unable to bear the confusion. Even through the gaps in his darkened vision, her afterimage kept flowing in.

Her figure dancing nobly, her gaze meeting his boldly, her cheeks flushing with humiliation, and her pitiful figure crying as if the world had collapsed. Enrico let out a deep sigh at the images flashing by quickly.

‘Sacrifice…’

He won’t question anymore whether this is truly sacrifice.

But is this really what she meant by a precious person?

If her affection for her family was warm and close to a feeling that solely cared for them, his was not such a noble thing, but rather a feeling with an underlying desire to be seen only by her, to see only her.

It was more like a darker, stickier feeling of wanting to bind her to his side even if it meant breaking the wings of a flying bird.

Enrico looked down at Emilia with eyes sunken with mixed emotions. His hand gently stroking her hair was still affectionate.

A small knock was heard. Though there was no invitation to enter, the door quietly opened and Fabio stepped in.

“The investigation into the cause of the accident found signs of intentional sabotage. There were traces of half-cut wires connecting the small lights, and we are prioritizing the investigation of those who had access to the ceiling from inside.”

Fabio stood behind Enrico and whispered softly, glancing at his reaction. Enrico listened without movement.

Yet even with that lack of response, Fabio somehow felt he wanted to leave this room. It felt like an strange chill was pooling at his feet, unlike the weather approaching summer.

“Was Emilia the target?”

An unusual heat underlay Enrico’s voice, unlike usual. Fabio didn’t miss that change and bowed his head even more respectfully.

“We’re focusing on confirming that aspect. Even though the light wires were half-cut, it had to coincide with the timing of Miss Emilia going on stage, so we’re also looking for any traces of action taken right before the accident occurred.”

“Tell the commissioner to have Inspector Reid handle the case.”

“Understood.”

A moment of silence passed. Fabio took it as a signal to leave and discreetly exited the room. As soon as he closed the door, the breath held back by tension burst out.

While it’s true that Enrico had shown some unfamiliar behaviors recently compared to before, he had never shown a face like today’s.

Such an angry face. If it weren’t for the situation where the collapsed Emilia needed immediate treatment, he might have turned that theater into a wasteland.

How much did he have to plead while barely holding back Enrico who was about to rush onto the stage? As soon as he said that Emilia wouldn’t want it, saying he would bring her to the duke’s residence, Enrico stopped his raging body.

Seeing Enrico swallowing his burning anger, Fabio quickly summoned a doctor and went backstage, then told those around that emergency treatment was finished and they would take her to the hospital, but brought her to the duke’s residence. Because people were in chaos, they were able to get away with this much, but it could have been troublesome if someone had questioned who they were.

Fabio was worried about Enrico, who seemed to have become strange since meeting Emilia. Is this really a good thing? Or is it a bad thing? As it’s a change that can’t be definitively concluded at present, Fabio just trembled with anxiety.

When she opened her eyes, what entered her vision was a faint light. Emilia confirmed her surroundings as she barely moved her heavy eyelids. The elaborate ceiling painting she had seen before came into view, and as she slightly rolled her eyes to the side, the afterimage of a softly burning candle reflected in her vision.

Her whole body ached. As she was about to look down at her aching arm while frowning, she felt a touch gently grasping her wrist.

“Don’t move yet. It’s better to lie down for a while.”