Louis Apart arrived in the capital city. He had brought only one servant and headed directly to the home where his son, Maxim Apart, was staying.

"Maxim." "Father."

Maxim stood at the doorway, looking at his father. Louis was shorter and stockier than his son. Maxim had taken after his mother in appearance, so there was little resemblance between him and his father, save for their light brown hair. However, their eyes were different; while Maxim's were a pale gold, Louis's were a deep, nearly black brown.

"Did you receive my letter?" "...Yes. I read it."

Louis, without preamble, brought up the letter he had sent. It was clear he was referring to the hidden message within it. Maxim nodded in acknowledgment, and Louis, raising his eyebrows slightly, seemed satisfied.

"Good. Then let's have a proper father-son chat after all this time."

Louis sank into one of the chairs in the sitting room.

"Master, do you require anything...?"

The servant asked tentatively, but Louis clapped his hands as if suddenly recalling something.

"We'll be heading to Baron Borden's estate shortly, so have the carriage ready and wait outside. I'll spend some time catching up with my son before we leave."

"Understood."

With a slight bow, the servant left the house.

"That servant, fortunately, comes from our own estate. I’ve confirmed his background, family and all."

Louis glanced at the closed door.

"Still, one can never be too careful. You must exercise caution."

Maxim watched his father shrug his shoulders. The casual demeanor didn’t fool him; his father's gaze was sharp beneath the surface.

"...Yes, being involved with high-ranking nobles isn't always a blessing," Louis sighed.

"You asked in your letter... Do you have any suspicions about what's going on?"

Maxim met his father’s eyes. He didn't want to involve his family further.

That was his decision.

Sharing the truth recklessly would only lead to more suffering for everyone involved. Whatever happened between him and Theodora had to remain their burden alone. Even if that burden was leading him toward his own demise.

"No," Maxim shook his head. Louis, knowing his son well enough, nodded in understanding and didn’t press further.

There was, however, one person left who troubled Maxim’s heart deeply.

“And... I have a favor to ask.”

Louis raised his eyebrows. Maxim was not the kind of person to ask for favors, especially not like this. The seriousness in his son’s demeanor made Louis pay closer attention.

“What is it?” “After the engagement ceremony, could you take Marion to our estate?”

Louis burst out laughing at the request.

“What, do you like her that much?” “And while I’m away, could you please take good care of her?”

Maxim’s request, spoken with gravity, made Louis stop laughing. His expression became serious as he nodded.

“I’ll discuss it with Baron Borden. Don’t worry about it.”

“...Thank you, Father,” Maxim murmured softly, his gratitude sincere. Louis simply smiled in response.

A subtle tension filled the air in the reception room. It wasn’t the typical tension that arises when two families meet to discuss an engagement. Emil Borden, the head of the Borden family, had welcomed Louis Apart, Maxim’s father.

“Please, take a seat.” “Thank you for your hospitality.”

The difference between a noble of the court and a provincial noble was stark. Emil Borden addressed Louis Apart in an informal tone, and Louis accepted this treatment as natural. He sat in a chair that was uncomfortably plush and looked at Emil.

“This is only the third time we’ve met, isn’t it?”

Emil stroked his chin as he spoke. Louis nodded quietly.

“Yes. Despite our families being bound together by this engagement, we haven't met very often.” “Well, neither of us has had the time. Your son’s been very busy, hasn’t he?”

There was no malice in Emil’s words, but Louis chuckled awkwardly.

“My son is rather shy. He’s always been reserved around strangers.”

Emil let out a scoffing laugh.

“Yes, I noticed that your son is quite the quiet one.”

Whether he knew it or not, Emil's words about Maxim’s personality felt oddly detached. The two men sat in silence for a while.

“I have a proposal I’d like to make.”

Louis was the first to break the silence.

“What is it?”

“After the engagement announcement, I’d like to take Marion back to our estate.”

Emil’s expression turned into a knowing smile. His cold blue eyes fixed on Louis with a chilling intensity.

“That’s something we’ll need to think about. While I appreciate the suggestion, it’s a decision that will require some time and consideration. After all...”

Emil’s eyes gleamed as if he were stifling a laugh.

“It’s important to ask what the couple themselves want, isn’t it? I’ll talk to Marion and let you know what she thinks.”

Louis studied Emil’s expression, but those deep, dark eyes betrayed no clear thoughts.

“Well then, I should be going. We’ve got other guests to receive soon.”

Emil rose from his seat, signaling the end of their conversation.

“By now, both Marion and Maxim should be ready.”

Whenever Marion removed her mask, she could feel the stares that followed.

Though she rarely took it off and few people ever saw her without it, those who did always wore expressions of pity. It always started with a visceral reaction—an instinctual repulsion that she had grown used to over time. She couldn’t blame them. Even she avoided looking at herself without the mask.

Half of her face was disfigured, twisted beyond recognition. After they swallowed that initial revulsion, all that was left was pity. Marion had learned to accept it. It was natural.

She didn't let it bother her. She wasn't hurt by it.

The scars on her body were more than enough.

"My lady?"

Even so, Marion hesitated to remove her mask. It wasn’t because she feared their disgust. It was the fact that, no matter how many times people saw her, their expressions never changed.

Sitting before her vanity, Marion lifted her hand to her mask. It was a hard, white mask that covered the right side of her face from her cheek to the bridge of her nose.

“Yes, I’ll take it off.”

She removed the mask, and her black hair fluttered as her disfigured face was revealed in the mirror. Her scarred right cheek contrasted sharply with her smooth left side. She could also see the maid’s reaction reflected behind her.

“I’ll begin now.”

The maid approached from behind and carefully began preparing Marion’s face and hair. There were no words of encouragement, no suggestions about looking her best for the engagement ceremony, or being beautiful for her fiancé.

It was all done with quiet, methodical precision.

The maid’s hands moved quickly, without a single word, simply getting the job done. Marion didn’t look in the mirror. She closed her eyes, focusing only on the sensation of the maid’s hands and the rustling of fabric.

“It’s finished, my lady.”

Marion opened her eyes. Her reflection stared back at her—half beautiful, half marred by scars.

“The ceremony will start soon. I’ll return shortly to escort you.”

Marion nodded faintly, and the maid gave her one last glance before leaving.

I should be happy, shouldn’t I?

Marion repeated the thought in her mind. She had never experienced feelings like these for anyone before, feelings she had tried to deny for so long. Her emotions toward Maxim had grown too large to dismiss as mere camaraderie.

How much easier it would be if she could simply be happy.

If only she could push aside all the thoughts about why Maxim had become her fiancé, what circumstances had led him to her, and just go to him—the man who had told her they were alike.

Marion fiddled with her mask.

She didn’t know anything about him. She couldn’t understand him.

Knock, knock.

The sound of a knock startled Marion from her thoughts. She composed herself and lifted her head.

Just as she was about to invite the person in, a familiar voice came from the other side of the door.

“May I come in?”

Marion’s body tensed at the sound. The voice was low and cautious. She hurriedly reached for her mask.

“W-wait... just a moment...!”

Her hands trembled as she fumbled with the mask. It slipped from her grasp, clattering to the floor. Marion cursed her clumsiness and quickly picked it up. Her face in the mirror was flushed. She hastily placed the mask over her disfigured side. The mask only covered half of her face, leaving her left side, now red with embarrassment, exposed.

Marion hung her head, unwilling to look at her reflection. Her face was still hot, and she doubted the flush would fade before Maxim entered. She had spoken too loudly in her panic, only making her face burn even more.

“You can come in now.”

With her permission, the door opened. Marion cautiously lifted her gaze to the doorway, trying to forget about the redness in her face.

Maxim entered, dressed in the same outfit he had worn the first time they met: a white shirt with a wine-red vest. The summer heat had done away with the frock coat, but everything else was the same. The atmosphere, however, was different. His somber eyes, once cold, now held a faint warmth, and his usually tight expression had softened.

“Are you ready?”

Marion gave a faint nod. She wanted to say she wasn’t ready at all, that her heart was still far from prepared.

“Is it alright for me to be here right now...?”

Maxim asked, his voice hesitant as he noticed Marion’s discomfort.

“If you’re uncomfortable, I can leave.”

“No.”

Marion quickly stopped him. Maxim, who had begun to turn away, hesitated and then sat down beside her.

“You can stay... if you want.”

Marion spoke with a soft, shy voice, and Maxim smiled gently.

“Alright. I’ll stay for a bit.”

Marion studied Maxim’s face. His expression was warm, devoid of the usual tension she had come to expect. Yet something about him felt off. There was a sense of resignation in his demeanor, something unsettling. It was as though he had let go of something, but Marion couldn’t place what it was.

“Maxim...”

Without realizing it, Marion called his name. The change in him didn’t seem entirely positive. His expression, though gentle, gave the impression of someone who had surrendered to something she couldn’t understand.

“Hm?”

Maxim looked at her. His eyes seemed calm, but Marion could sense the undercurrent of something unspoken.

“Are you... alright?”

“Alright? What do you mean?”

Maxim seemed genuinely puzzled by the question, though Marion detected the briefest flicker of hesitation. She knew there were many things Maxim hadn’t told her. And yet, the way he was now, Marion couldn’t help but feel concerned.

In the past, she wouldn’t have asked. But now, she couldn’t ignore the look on his face.

“If there’s something you can’t tell me, it’s okay. You don’t have to.”

Marion backed down, retreating from the question. A shadow passed over Maxim’s face.

“Marion.” “Yes?”

Maxim looked at her as if he were about to say something important, but the words caught in his throat. He wasn’t sure how to reassure someone who bore wounds as deep as his own.

Maxim took Marion’s left hand in his. Marion, nervous yet seeking comfort, held onto him.

“After the engagement, would you like to come to our estate for a while?”

Marion’s eyes widened. Slowly, she lowered her gaze. She couldn’t help but feel that Maxim was avoiding answering her question, but she couldn’t force him to be honest.

“...I’d like to go. But...”

Her eyes, filled with concern, met his. She wasn’t demanding answers—she was worried about him, afraid that he might be slipping away from her.

“...”

Marion lowered her head again, and Maxim was overcome with a sense of guilt. Marion blamed herself for not being able to hold onto him, while he felt guilty for not prioritizing her.

If only I could have put her first.

If only I could have forgotten about the past, the tangled grudges, the painful truths.

If only I could have chosen Marion above all else.

“...I’ll go.”

Marion’s voice cut through the silence. Her words were resolute, and they brought a fresh wave of guilt crashing over Maxim.

“When this is all over, when everything is settled...”

Maxim’s words reached Marion, though even he wasn’t sure if they were an empty promise.

“When that time comes.”

Maxim squeezed Marion’s hand gently. Marion, her gaze fixed solely on him, listened intently.

“Yes. When that time comes.”

They promised each other a future—a future neither of them could be sure of.

There was a knock at the door. A servant called for Marion from outside.

The engagement ceremony was about to begin. Maxim rose from his seat and offered his hand to Marion. She looked at his outstretched hand for a moment before placing hers on top of it.