1. The Betrayal of a Husband, The End of Love

All of Lorena’s tragedies began the day her father, Vicenzo, was arrested on charges of espionage.

That day, the signs of disaster were everywhere.

First, her husband, the Duke of Levantes, behaved in a way that was quite unlike his usual self.

Second, the head butler, who had always despised her, was unusually cheerful.

Third, her husband’s seventh mistress visited the Levantes estate.

Fourth, the person who arrived arm-in-arm with that woman was none other than Lorena’s closest friend.

* * *

For as long as Lorena could remember, her husband had always had a mistress.

It had been seven years since she, a woman from the Kingdom of Ingerd, married into the powerful and noble House of Levantes in Bessen.

Each year, her husband’s mistress would change.

On the day she heard about his seventh mistress, Lorena finally broached the uncomfortable subject.

“There are many eyes watching us, Vaye.”

The man, who had been sipping his tea with perfect posture, lifted his gaze. His cold, indifferent eyes met those of his wife, seated across the tea table.

As always, she wore her hair neatly up, with a high-necked dress that revealed none of her skin. It had been a tedious and awkward fifteen minutes since the tea time began, and this was the first topic she had brought up.

“I heard you attended the poker club at Hotel Alborada. Rumor has it that you spent quite some time in a private meeting with Madame Olivia.”

Delgato was the most notorious district in the capital city of Motrel, Bessen’s seat of power.

Lorena waited for her husband to take another sip of tea before she hesitantly continued.

“Everyone in Motrel is paying attention to your every word and expression. Especially now, with the royal family’s position so unstable.”

It had been three years since the neighboring Kingdom of Ingerd had suffered a devastating defeat in the war against Eastern Lenon, which subsequently led to a wave of revolution.

Despite concerns from surrounding nations, Ingerd successfully established a republic. There were even rumors circulating that they were issuing large amounts of government bonds to pay for war reparations.

Whether Ingerd became a republic or issued bonds wasn’t Bessen’s concern, as long as the matter stayed within their borders. The problem was that the revolutionary fervor, born from the people, was now crossing the borders into neighboring countries. Both the royal family and the noble elite of Bessen had to be cautious in their conduct.

Her husband’s Adam’s apple moved slowly as he swallowed. Without a word, he savored his tea before setting the cup down.

Vaye Levantes’s perfectly shaped lips moved.

“When have you ever cared about such things?”

His tone was flat, devoid of emotion, making it hard to discern his true feelings.

“Whether Bessen remains a monarchy or becomes a republic, whether I go out or stay in—I thought you never cared.”

“…No one here ‘doesn’t’ care about you,” Lorena replied.

“Not just in Motrel, but in all of Bessen.”

And wasn’t that the truth? His very name was proof of that.

Vaye Alejandro Levantes de Bellacarosa. His full name was nearly twice that length.

He was not only one of the most renowned nobles in Bessen but also one of the most prominent across neighboring nations. The lord of Bellacarosa, the gateway to the continent of Ugonia, and the Duke of Levantes—ruler of the eastern seas. The titles and lands tied to this man’s name were as grand and varied as the numerous surnames and titles that followed him.

He was a high noble, permitted to stand before the king and queen without removing his hat, and he could refuse to kneel even before the Pope. Such was the power and status of Lorena’s husband.

Lorena had always thought it. He was far too lofty a man for someone like her, the daughter of a mere banker, to have married.

Her family might have had wealth, but the position of a duchess was valued far beyond what money could buy. While money could purchase prestige, it couldn’t buy the elegance and poise inherent in true nobility.

The aristocratic grace she spoke of wasn’t about being flawless. It was about possessing an aura that turned even faults into a part of one’s charm, the innate haughtiness and confidence that could only come from absolute power. Such traits allowed even a man as indulgent as her husband, who swapped mistresses every year, to avoid seeming crass.

Everything about Vaye Levantes seemed impossibly perfect, from his rank and power to his personality and even his appearance. Even the way his clothes fell across his broad shoulders, chest, and waist left nothing to criticize.

The most exceptional man in Bessen placed his teacup down and asked:

“Lorena. Do you dislike that I take mistresses?”

“…Of course.”

“Of course?”

“I consider it your freedom. I never intended to interfere.”

Vaye raised an eyebrow, and then he spoke in a low, nonchalant tone.

“I see.”

“But this also affects your reputation—”

“You’re saying that whether I have one mistress or several, it doesn’t matter to you, does it?”

A delicate frown formed on Lorena’s otherwise smooth brow.

Naturally, she wasn’t pleased. Regardless of the businesslike nature of their marriage, they were still bound together as husband and wife.

Secretly, Lorena bit her lip. Even after seven years of living under the same roof, she still found her husband difficult to deal with.

Vaye Levantes was so flawlessly perfect that he lacked any trace of humanity. He had no small habits, no mistakes that made him relatable. He was cold and unyielding, like glass.

Vaye repeated her words as if pondering them.

“It doesn’t bother you…”

The sharp look he gave her felt unfamiliar. She felt as if she were standing on a narrow platform, being carefully examined.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

She replied, unsure if this was even something she could contest.

“It would’ve been the same, even if the roles were reversed. I thought we agreed not to interfere as long as our ‘reputation’ remained intact.”

‘You’ve never shown the slightest interest in my personal life either.’

Sometimes, that fact made Lorena sad, but she never let it show. Jealousy was not a virtue of a proper duchess.

Her father, Vicenzo, was a banker from the Kingdom of Ingerd, and the Duke of Levantes and the royal family of Bessen were among his most prominent clients. Their marriage had been arranged to safeguard mutual trust between the two parties.

Trust was the sole reason for their union, the purpose, and the outcome.

“That’s exactly right.”

Vaye said, confirming her thoughts.

Vaye let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

“If you’re my wife, you should be just like you are.”

There was no trace of joy in his tone.

A large, black-furred beast brushed past the sofa where Lorena sat. It was one of the hunting hounds her husband kept at the estate.

The dog, crouched at its master’s feet, gazed at Lorena with gleaming, black eyes. Her face paled.

Lorena had always been terrified of that dog. If her husband were ever portrayed as an animal, he would surely resemble that hunting hound.

Vaye muttered to himself, almost as if speaking to the dog.

“You hate me, Lorena. Quite intensely.”

He rarely addressed her so informally, and the piercing look he gave her made Lorena flinch. He continued in a low, almost whispering tone.

“That kind of thing drives a person mad.”

Lorena bit her dry lips.

Of course, she hated and resented her husband. But that wasn’t all.

‘What I truly hate, Vaye, is not you gallivanting around.’

‘It’s having other women enter our home. I am your wife.’

‘I’m not just some ornament, fixed in place like a relief on the walls of this estate… We are husband and wife.’

‘Even if you don’t love me.’

Vaye stroked the dog’s chin and asked monotonously.

“Are you seeing the doctor regularly, madam?”

“…I’ve been visiting Dr. Bruno for regular check-ups. But… I haven’t heard any news yet.”

Her once clear voice grew softer. It was the same dreaded topic that always made Lorena shrink.

It wasn’t as though they rarely engaged in their marital duties. Vaye adhered almost obsessively to their monthly union, never missing it.

And yet, after seven years, there was still no child.

Lorena’s inability to conceive had become a frequent topic in the daily papers, often fueling rumors of discord between the Duke and Duchess.

“Pity.”

Vaye remarked.

For the first and only time since they had sat down, he smiled faintly. But neither his expression nor his tone conveyed any real pity. In fact, he looked as if he had finally removed a bothersome thorn, appearing almost relieved.

‘What on earth does he find fortunate?’

‘That his wife hasn’t conceived after nearly seven years? Why is that something to be relieved about?’

‘Is it because if I were pregnant, he couldn’t bring his mistresses into the house?’

‘Is he even the type of man who cares about such morality?’

“Leave now, Lorena.”

Vaye said, finally breaking his gaze from her. It was a dismissal, both familiar and strangely cold.

Lorena stood up, struggling to suppress her emotions.

“I heard you’re having dinner with my father in Nasse tonight. He’ll likely bring up the purchase of Ingerd’s government bonds. He seems to have a positive assessment of their repayment ability… I hope the conversation goes well.”

The black hound panted, rubbing its muzzle against Vaye’s hand.

Vaye did not look at Lorena, nor did he offer any response.

It was as though he had severed all acknowledgment of her presence.

Lorena’s heart pounded with a sense of foreboding.