“He really makes me miserable… He’s a terrible man.”

Her tears, which she had been holding back for so long, finally erupted. Inside the carriage, Rowena cried into her uncle’s chest. She cried and sobbed for a while, and then Jeremy leaned over her head.

“I have a different opinion on that matter, Rowena,”

She asked between her sobs, “What do you mean?”

“The Duke is not going to let you go. Never. Even if he gets married to another.”

Killian was a man who pretended to be unconcerned at all times, but whose attention was always on Rowena. 

For the first month at the castle, despite the considerable age difference, whenever Jeremy even had to look at Rowena or exchange a few words with her, that man would have a certain look on his face.

Due to that, they never even exchanged proper greetings, yet that man’s gaze would follow Rowena everywhere while being filled with lust and persistent obsession, not lessening even one bit. He was a man who would rather have her dead than have her leave his side again.

Therefore, Jeremy devoted even more effort to prepare for their escape, and it was much more challenging than he thought it would be.

“Really?”

“Really. When has my intuition ever been wrong?”

“… Never.”

Shaking her head honestly, she patted her cheeks with both hands while she forced a smile on her face, and her mood seemed to lighten a bit.

Jeremy, who was looking at her, hesitated and opened his mouth.

“By the way, Rowena, you…”

“What?”

“No… nothing..”

Jeremy, who had pursed his lips several times, turned his gaze toward the window. Rowena, who looked puzzled for a moment, also looked out the window.

The temperature was getting warmer day by day. It was April when all the life and vitality that had begun to resuscitate in the early spring was beginning to reappear. Rowena kept her eyes on the snow, which she would probably not be able to see once it all melted away and spring passed into summer.

* * *

The sudden freedom was short-lived. Killian, whom she had not seen for three days, came home unexpectedly one night. As soon as she received the telegram, she hurried to send Damian to his room, and Rowena, like a devoted wife, stood in the doorway to greet him. As soon as the door opened, she greeted me with a bright smile.

“Welcome back.”

Instead of answering, Killian, who nodded his head, took off his hat and gloves. Rowena, who received it and handed it to Bianca, followed Killian up to the bedroom.

“I was worried because you didn’t contact me much. Did you finish your urgent work well?”

“Were you worried?”

“Of course, I worry. It’s always been that way.”

Rowena replied softly, closing the bedroom door behind her. Killian, who had removed his tie and jacket and handed them to her, sat on the couch in front of the fireplace.

Rowena sat across from him and looked at him observantly with the whiskey glass she had prepared in advance. He was a man of absolute perfection, a man who sought perfection and nothing else, making him live on a certain routine that never changes regardless of his mood. For some reason, however, he was a little different tonight; even though he came home after a long day of work, he didn’t disturb the hem of his shirt.

The feeling that had engulfed her when they met again a few months earlier struck Rowena again. In the ensuing silence, Rowena, who swallowed her saliva, softly spoke.

“Are you feeling under the weather? Did something happen?”

Maybe it was her imagination, but he looked different. His face was paler than usual, but his cheeks were a little flushed like a person who had suffered from a severe illness or a serious injury.

But what came back to her genuine worry was cold sarcasm.