Chapter 3

The sound of raindrops drumming against the windowpane whispered softly in Edith’s ears, rousing her from slumber. With great effort, she pried open her heavy eyelids.

To her dismay, memories of the previous night surged back with disconcerting clarity, those piercing eyes of the duke, the furtive glances cast her way by all who bore witness.

“Mmm…”

The moment she rose, a wave of dizziness assailed her. Clutching her throbbing temples, she groaned involuntarily, prompting her maid to rush over in alarm.

“You're awake, my lady?”

With Jenna’s support, Edith cleared her throat, her voice hoarse from sleep.

“Jenna… could I have some water?”

“I was shocked, you know. You collapsed, do you have any idea how much you drank? I saw you being carried in by Lord Everett himself!”

Jenna handed her a glass, pouting. Edith responded not with words but with a long, grateful sip of cool water.

“This is no time to be lounging around! You must wash and get ready, quickly.”

“Get ready? For what?”

“You’ve no idea who’s waiting in the drawing room, do you? None other than the Duke of Glassheart himself!”

At those unexpected words, spoken so casually, Edith, mid-stretch to ease her stiff neck, froze, her body turning to stone.

“…Why is he here?”

“Don’t ask me! The madam is speaking with him now. She told me to prepare you the moment you awoke.”

Still half-dreaming and head pounding, Edith allowed herself to be ushered toward the bath.

“Honestly, duke or not, who drops in unannounced at such an ungodly hour?” Jenna muttered, helping her disrobe.

As she sank into the warm water, Edith rolled her eyes.

“…Must’ve been urgent.”

“Even if it was, a lady needs time to make herself presentable. He’ll just have to wait.”

Jenna, humming cheerily, began to scrub her skin with a sponge.

“He must have fallen for you at first sight! Why else would he barge in so early in the morning?”

But Edith, who knew the truth of last night’s events, stared blankly at the ceiling. A single night had been enough to piece things together.

…It had to be that wretched fairy.

At the time, it had all seemed too absurd, like a drunken hallucination. She had been drinking, after all.

‘Damn that fairy, returning kindness with calamity. What exactly had it said?’

"I’ll bestow a blessing: the most handsome man will treat you with tender affection."

The duke was handsome, true, but the fairy had been judged solely by appearance. Couldn’t it be considered personality as well? He struck her as prickly, cold.

Usually when you describe your ideal type, someone introduces you to a compatible partner. Not… manipulate one into becoming that person.

That fairy was clearly insane.

So what if he behaved affectionately? The duke had clearly lost his composure around her, surely, he too was aware of his own strange behavior.

But that sort of cold, domineering man? Absolutely not her type.

Besides, Edith had dreams of her own, she had no time for a cursed romance.

“What dress would you like to wear, My lady? And your hair?”

“Just do something simple. It’s not as if he’ll care what I look like anyway.”

She let out a long, weary sigh.

…Honestly, I would’ve preferred a fart that smelled like flowers.

Standing before the drawing room door, Edith took a deep breath.

”Hoo…”

She had passed through this door countless times, but today, it felt like the gates of hell. Her nerves were frayed, her guilt heavy.

Swallowing hard, she stepped inside.

The room was familiar, but the man who now occupied it stood out like a wrong note in a melody.

“Forgive my tardiness. I heard you asked for me?”

The duke lifted his gaze, coolly scanning her figure before bringing the teacup to his lips.

Clad in a suit that molded perfectly to his sculpted frame, the firelight glinting off his silver hair, he looked as if he’d stepped from a painting.

“You’re here. Please, sit.”

Her mother, seated gracefully on the sofa, offered a smile.

“….”

Hesitating briefly, Edith lowered herself into a chair. Silence fell, dense and suffocating.

“My, is something on my daughter’s face?” her mother asked lightly.

Startled, Edith lifted her gaze, only to be caught in the dazzling blue of the duke’s eyes, as precise and brilliant as gemstones. Her breath caught. She looked away at once.

At last, the duke set his teacup down.

“Baroness, forgive me, but may I request a moment alone with your daughter?”

“Your Grace,” her mother replied, tone lilting with politeness, “I know you to be a gentleman. Still, as her mother, I confess I feel uneasy leaving the two of you unattended. She is, after all, unmarried.”

“I give you my word, madam. I would never bring dishonor to her name. However…”

His lips twitched slightly.

“…the matter requires a private conversation. I trust Lady Hamilton will agree.”

Madam Hamilton’s gaze landed squarely on Edith.

Edith sighed inwardly.

“…It’s all right, Mother. Please don’t worry.”

She had no idea what would be said, but for now, secrecy seemed best.

“If you insist…” Her mother rose, eyeing them both with curious intrigue.

“Edith, take good care of our guest.”

She patted her daughter’s shoulder gently and left the room with grace. As the door closed behind her, Edith’s heart pounded.

“You already know why I wanted to speak with you.”

The duke, one leg crossed over the other, folded his hands atop his knee. The very picture of elegance. But his voice was anything but gentle.

“Now tell me the truth. What exactly did you do to me?”

“…”

“I sincerely hope it wasn’t some crude eastern sorcery. If it was… then you’ll be seeing the inside of the Yulven Tower.”

Her blood turned to ice.

“No! I, I would never, Yulven Tower? That’s… that’s where criminals go to die, right?”

“Then speak. Tell me everything. If you’re honest, I’ll consider the matter closed. I’d rather not escalate things.”

He clearly believed she’d ensnared him with some vile trick.

Edith bit her tongue.

This is all that cursed fairy’s fault.

She’d shown kindness and gotten misfortune in return. A victim, really.

But…

Would he even believe her if she told the truth? That she’d given a candy to a fairy in the palace gardens, and it had cursed her in return?

No. Of course not. No one in the empire would.

Even she would have laughed, had she not experienced it herself.

“So it was sorcery?” he asked flatly, his gaze dropping meaningfully to her neck.

‘Is he… imagining throttling me right now?’

Edith clenched a fistful of her skirt.

‘Fine. I’ll tell him. No half-baked excuse will work on a man like this. He’ll think I’m crazy, but better that than some dark mage.’

“Actually, ”

And with the tortured soul of a sea cucumber expelling its innards, she confessed everything.

The duke listened with his arms crossed and eyes closed, unmoving. The longer he sat in silence, the more parched her lips became.

“I understand it’s hard to believe. But I swear before the gods, every word is true. Please, ”

“Enough.”

He opened his eyes and raised a hand.

“…I’ll believe you. For now. The pieces fit, more or less.”

“So you don’t believe me.”

But to her surprise, he nodded.

“You… you really believe me?”

Yurik pressed two fingers to his throbbing temple.

“A secret passed only among the imperial family. I had heard something from my mother once… dismissed it as a fairy tale.”

The previous Duchess of Glassheart, his own mother, the emperor’s sister.

"Yurik, did you know? There’s a fairy living in the palace gardens."

He’d assumed she was merely teasing.

A fairy, of all things.

Yet the woman before him looked so earnestly sincere, her gaze unwavering. If she was acting, she belonged on a stage.

“A secret of the imperial house… I truly had no idea. I’m not lying.”

“I know.”

If she had wanted to deceive him, she would have invented a more plausible lie, certainly not a ridiculous fairy tale. The Hamilton family had no ties to the palace; it was unlikely she’d known such a legend beforehand.

Still…

“Why wish for something so indecent?”

“I didn’t wish for anything! I never made a wish!”

She bit her lip.

“Then?”

“She asked for my ideal type. I said… someone handsome and kind. That was all.”

Tears welled in her green eyes.

“She granted the wish on her own. I didn’t know this would happen.”

“I see.”

“…And to be clear, you’re not my type either.”

At that, one of Yurik’s eyebrows twitched.

“Unfortunately, you’re not mine, either.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, furious. He didn’t care.

He was the one cursed with this madness because of her. Just as he scoffed, a familiar, unsettling sensation crawled through his body.

“Damn it.”

His muscles stiffened.

“…Your Grace?”

She looked up, concerned.

“Let me say one thing before this begins,” he said, jaw clenched.

“You brought this situation upon us, so whatever I do next, you’d best understand that it is not… by choice.”

“…Pardon?”

“I feel nothing for you. None of this is from desire.”

He marched over to her and sat beside her. She recoiled instinctively, but he was undeterred.

“Wh-why are you coming closer?!”

She paled visibly.

He picked up a delicate confection from the table, holding it to her lips.

“Eat.”