03.

After her father’s death, Henesstia changed significantly.

She no longer held onto any hopes or dreams, nor did she cling to any lingering attachments.

Her marriage was no exception.

Having already heard Heron’s plan to use her to take control of the entire Ingel estate, how could she possibly expect a fairy tale marriage? Perhaps that’s why she had been able to endure the humiliation at the Baron’s household all this time.

‘I’m just a bystander.’

She knew her brother would ruin this family, that he intended to kill them all, but her fear of Heron had left her powerless to act.

If there was one small comfort in her suffocating situation, it was this:

‘At least Count Ingel hasn’t returned yet.’

Her husband was still away at war and hadn’t come back.

There was no telling when the war would end or when he’d return. Henesstia secretly wished he’d come back as late as possible, delaying the inevitable.

Because the moment he returned, everything that had been on hold would begin. The clock that had stopped would start ticking again.

But today, that fragile stability she had clung to ended.

“The Count… is returning?” she whispered.

“Word spread throughout the Empire days ago that he’s returning after ending the war. How could you, his wife, be the last to know? Unbelievable.”

Normally, Henesstia would have blushed in anger at the maid’s rude tone, but today she couldn’t muster a reaction.

Stunned, Henesstia stood still for a moment before staggering back toward her room.

“So that’s why the new room and clothes…”

When she stepped into the grandest room on the third floor, which she had never seen before, it was filled with newly purchased items.

Unlike her old room, which had been damp and musty, the curtains here were fresh, and the bedding smelled of sunlight, as if it had just been washed. The carpet was made of fine wolf fur, and the furniture was crafted by skilled artisans.

Of course. Even if she had been walking around looking ragged, the Baroness had never been one to care.

“They must have scrambled to prepare everything because Riad Ingel is coming,” Henesstia muttered.

Though their intentions differed, the Baron and Baroness also wanted her to bear his child—for the sake of the heir who would carry the noble blood of the Ardin family.

“Just one day… if only he could return even a day later,” she whispered.

Henesstia prayed to the silent heavens, as she always did. But by now, she knew that the gods had a way of betraying her. That very evening, she learned the truth during dinner—a meal she had never once been invited to join with the Baron and Baroness.

* * *

“Riad will return tomorrow.”

Henesstia barely managed to keep herself from dropping the knife she held.

“I… understand.”

She replied quietly.

“You already knew?”

The Baron asked, wiping his mouth.

“I heard it from the maids,” she answered.

The Baron sneered.

“Eavesdropping like a little rat, I see.”

Henesstia’s role in this household was painfully clear: a convenient target for their frustrations and a tool to produce an heir.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered.

But instead of rebelling, Henesstia chose submission. Rebellion was only worthwhile when one could bear its consequences.

“When Riad arrives, make sure you get on his good side.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“And talk him into staying here, rather than going back.”

A new command, delivered without any regard for the fine steak they were all supposedly enjoying. Henesstia slowly set down her utensils, feeling like she might vomit if she continued eating.

“…But the Count has lands granted by His Majesty. It would be difficult for him not to return to his own territory.”

Bang!

The Baron slammed the table with his fist.

The first time Henesstia had seen such violent behavior, her heart had nearly stopped. The dining table was meant for meals, not for pounding in anger. But now, she barely flinched, her eyes only twitching slightly in response.

“Who doesn’t know that!? Just do as I say without all the excuses!”

“…”

“And don’t even think about heading off to the count’s lands! You, too!”

The Baroness added her own remarks, her voice dripping with condescension.

“It’s unthinkable to tear our son away from his parents the moment he returns. You’re heartless, aren’t you?”

“That’s not what I meant—!”

“The Count’s lands ran smoothly even while he was at war!”

The Baroness continued.

That was only because the Imperial Palace had sent someone to oversee the territory in his absence.

Even though they knew that when Riad returned, the imperial appointee would leave, they shamelessly ignored the facts.

Henesstia hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“If the Count is absent from his lands for too long, it will damage his reputation.”

Normally, she would have stayed silent, but she spoke up in the hope that if Riad left, she might be able to escape the suffocating grip of the Baron and Baroness.

“So, now you think you’re going to teach us how things work?”

Her words had been true. The count’s status wasn’t something they seemed to understand, given they were still clinging to this small barony that they had bought with money.

Henesstia’s calm, dignified attitude only irritated them more.

No matter how much they tried to trample on her, she remained composed, speaking softly and logically. But the poise she carried only highlighted the vast difference between her and them.

To break her spirit, they resorted to their usual tactics.

The Baron, lips pressed tight in suppressed rage, raised his hand. Immediately, the maids roughly grabbed Henesstia by her shoulders and yanked her up.

“…Ugh!!”

Her chair toppled over with a loud crash as Henesstia stumbled from the sudden force. Yet, no one paid her any mind.

The Baroness, watching the scene with disinterest, spoke in a flat, emotionless voice.

“Make sure not to leave any marks. She has to attend to Riad tomorrow night.”

Henesstia closed her eyes tightly, bracing herself for what would come next.

* * *

After a brutally long and sleepless night, Henesstia woke to the sunlight streaming into her room—it was already morning.

“Ah…”

The maids, usually annoyed by their duty to wake her, had not yet come. The eerie silence as she stirred made her uneasy, and as she rose, a sharp pain shot through her body, causing her to stumble forward.

She buried her face in the bed, gazing at the stillness of her surroundings.

“…”

Her eyes burned as if she might cry, but no tears came.

‘How long will this keep happening to me?’

What had transpired yesterday was just one more excuse for the maids to openly torment her. They saw her, the only daughter of the Ardin family, a woman with imperial blood, as someone they could mistreat at their leisure.

In the Ingel household, she was nothing more than something they had purchased. Her new owners treated her like a toy they could play with and discard whenever they pleased, without any regard for her feelings or dignity.

“It hurts…”

Henesstia stood up slowly, her entire body aching as though it had been pummeled. The pain was familiar by now—she had grown used to it, though there was a time when she couldn’t even stand on her own after such treatment. Now, it was simply part of her daily life.

She cautiously approached the window, looking out to see the bustle of people below. Everyone was preparing for the return of Riad Ingel.

“I thought he’d go straight to his territory.”

Or perhaps the imperial palace. But why was he coming here?

The Baron and Baroness seemed to care deeply for their son. Their attentiveness and actions made it clear they were always thinking of him, despite having arranged a marriage for him without his consent.

‘Is the Count really rushing back because he misses his parents?’

The thought crossed her mind briefly, but Henesstia quickly shook it away. Whatever the reason, there was nothing she could do to stop the impending storm.

Feeling as though she were being pushed toward the edge of a cliff, Henesstia licked her dry lips. But the knot of anxiety that had taken root deep within her refused to budge.

“…Ugh.”

Her breath grew shallow as she clutched her chest, collapsing into a chair to calm herself. Her neck and face flushed red with tension, and it felt as if invisible hands were choking her. The room, though empty, provided no sense of security.

If not for the sudden sound of trumpets blaring through the air, she might have spent hours struggling to breathe, suffocating on the wolf fur carpet below.

“Is… is the Count back?”

Her guess was right.

Even from her room, she could hear the distant sound of horses galloping and the cheers of those welcoming Riad’s return. The noise reverberated in her ears, leaving her dizzy.

Her body ached all over, particularly her back, which had been painfully pressed down the night before. But despite the pain, Henesstia grasped the window frame and forced herself up.

“When the Count returns…”

She whispered to herself that she needed to convince him to stay, just as the Baron and Baroness had instructed. And then, she would have to bear his child—her only purpose here.

She repeated these duties over and over in her mind like a mantra, as if that would help her accept the inevitable. Yet even the celebratory sounds outside seemed to mock her, making her feel trapped.

Unable to bear the sight of the people bustling below, she had closed the thin curtain. But now, she pulled it aside, and the once dimly lit room was flooded with bright light, so blinding it felt like she had been submerged in water.

Her vision blurred for a moment, but gradually, the world came into focus.

“Count Ingel!!”

“Welcome back!”

Amid the clamor of voices and activity, Henesstia’s gaze locked onto the procession below. She had never seen the outside world move with such vibrancy before. The black-clad procession stretched into the distance, soldiers dressed in solid armor marching in perfect formation.

And at the front of them all was the man she had only ever heard about—Riad Ingel, the victorious hero everyone had been waiting for.

“Gasp.”

Henesstia’s breath hitched in her throat as she caught sight of him.

Though far away, he stood out clearly among the others, a solitary figure of strength and presence.

Black.

That was the first thought that came to her as she took in his appearance.

His hair was darker than the blackest night, like the deepest shadows of the evening sky. His long hair, falling loosely around his face, occasionally slipped over his forehead, which he carelessly brushed back, revealing his strong features. His prominent brow, straight nose, and full lips formed an elegant and alluring silhouette.

Despite the loud cheers around him, his golden eyes, half-lidded with indifference, shone brightly, cutting through the distance with their intensity.

Those eyes alone glowed, even from afar.

“…”

For a moment, Henesstia forgot all about her pain, the pounding headache, and the crushing anxiety that had suffocated her moments before. Her gaze remained fixed on him, as if entranced. The wind from the slightly opened window brushed against her, but she didn’t even notice, too focused on the man before her.

He was a man who seemed to command the entire world’s attention, even in the midst of a crowd.

That man—Riad Ingel, the Count, the war hero, and the husband she had never met—had finally returned from the long war.

Riad dismounted from his horse with a fluid motion. Towering over the others even in armor, he looked like a beast among men.

As the man whom the princess had long courted and the knight trusted by the emperor, he bowed his head lightly to the waiting Baron and Baroness. But even at that moment, Henesstia could not tear her eyes away from him.

And then, his piercing golden gaze turned toward her.

“…!”

Without thinking, Henesstia dropped to the floor, clutching the windowsill for support. Her heart pounded in her chest as she gripped the frame tightly.

“Did… did we just make eye contact?”

She desperately hoped it was only her imagination.