As I moved toward the sound, I found Headrin retching on the far side of the garden.
Blair hurried toward him.
“Are you okay—”
The moment she reached out to stroke his back, Headrin shoved her away with violent force.
“Get lost!”
Struck by the raw intensity of his agitation, Blair tumbled backward.
Her hip throbbed where she hit the ground, but her shock eclipsed the pain. This was the first time anyone had directed such unfiltered hostility toward her.
Though dazed, her concern for Headrin outweighed her confusion. She blinked, shaking off the fog, and scrambled to her feet.
“Are you alright?”
Headrin’s gaze wavered for a split second before his eyes turned cold and hollow. He lashed out, his voice sharp enough to cut.
“Didn’t you hear me? I said get lost.”
Any pretense of courtly manners toward an Imperial Princess had been burned away.
Headrin took a threatening step forward, his voice a guttural rasp through gritted teeth.
“If you don’t want to die, get out of my sight.”
His tone carried a distinct, terrifying promise of violence.
Blair recoiled instinctively, meeting a level of murderous intent she had never faced before. Yet, as she looked into his eyes, she found she could not run. In fact, she didn’t want to.
Despite the harsh words, the boy’s distorted blue eyes looked profoundly, devastatingly lonely.
Esmeralda’s words from the day before surfaced in her mind.
‘To be honest, Headrin isn’t an affectionate child. He carries deep wounds, so he’s clumsy with people.’
He was neither affectionate nor the “good person” she had lied about.
But…
‘He isn’t a bad person, either.’
He was merely a boy struggling to survive the wreckage of his own sorrow.
“Wait!”
Looking up at him, Blair remembered something. She turned and sprinted back toward the banquet hall, her feet pattering against the stone. She grabbed her belongings and hurried back.
She had been taught that running was unladylike, but Blair didn’t care. It felt just like the times she rushed to fetch food for the stray cat in the backyard.
“Haa… haa….”
When she returned, Headrin was gone.
She searched the garden until she found him on the opposite side of the wall. He was huddled against the masonry, his face buried in his knees.
‘Is he that ill?’
Fearing he was truly sick, she worried that standing by would be useless—she should find medicine. She approached him quietly.
A heavy, jagged sigh escaped him, followed by a voice that sounded like a rough, adolescent imitation of a man.
“……Why have you come back?”
His irritation remained, but this time, he made an effort to temper his tone.
Before he could push her away again, Blair pressed a small object into his hand, which lay limply over his knee.
“I’ll lend these to you.”
Headrin lifted his head. In his hand sat a pair of fur earmuffs.
“They’re rabbit fur. If you wear these, you won’t hear the murmurs as clearly.”
They would muffle the whispers, if only a little. It was winter; no one would find it strange if he wore them.
“They’re warm, too. And very, very soft.”
The rabbit fur was plush and thick. It was so pleasant to the touch that she wanted to keep stroking it. The sensation always calmed her.
‘If he touches them, the Duke’s mood will improve, too, right?’
Headrin looked back and forth between the earmuffs and the wide-eyed, sparkling Blair. He opened his mouth, startled, but before he could speak—
“Your Highness! Are you in here?”
The voice of a lady-in-waiting echoed through the garden.
Blair jumped up. If they discovered Headrin hiding here, his efforts to endure the banquet by feigning strength would be ruined.
“I’ll keep today a secret.”
She left him behind, rounded the corner, and trotted off toward the voice. Her hands felt empty without the earmuffs, but her heart was light.
That night, before sleep claimed her, Blair made her usual wish.
*Please let Mother love me.*
*Please let Mother and the Empress become close.*
To her daily litany, she added a special plea. Even though she found the person who stole the Empress’s attention unpleasant…
*‘Still, please let Duke Del Marc be happy.’*
* * *
“So, the late Empress arranged the first meeting between you and the Duke?”
Though the story was irrelevant to her, Agnes listened with rapt attention.
Blair had only mentioned playing cards with him the day before the New Year’s Festival and that Headrin had attended the banquet. She had omitted his flight from the hall.
It was a long time ago. Even if someone found out he had run away, no one would dare mock him now. He was the Empire’s greatest knight, a hero of the war.
But even if the secret held no weight, she refused to let his past wounds be served up as gossip.
“A childhood romance that blossomed into marriage—what a romantic tale.”
“Is that so?”
“Of course. It’s the story every young girl dreams of. And the partner being the Duke himself… Naturally, the beauty of the romance was completed by your love, Madam.”
Blair looked at Agnes, bewildered.
“Because you were the one who cherished those memories, Madam. With all that happened during the New Year’s Festival, you chose to remember the moments centered on the Duke.”
Blair’s eyes widened, and she blinked slowly. It was a perspective she had never considered.
Agnes smiled gently.
“You must love the Duke very much, Madam.”
Blair chewed on the words, then offered a faint smile.
She ‘had’ loved him. Perhaps, just as Agnes suggested, she had been drawn to him since that New Year’s Festival.
But not anymore.
As the Duchess, she couldn’t confess that to a stranger. Yet, there was one truth she could admit.
“……I loved those days.”
The version of me that liked you so purely, and the days when that feeling wasn’t a sin.
Agnes nodded in agreement.
“Memories of happy moments can become the strength that carries us through a lifetime. I hope you make such strength-giving memories this year at the New Year’s Festival as well.”
The New Year’s Festival. An event Blair had already experienced once.
‘Come to think of it, what happened at this year’s festival?’
Blair paused, reaching into the past.
The memory returned in a rush. An accident had occurred around this time, just before her regression.
* * *
That night, Blair paced her room, smoothing her lips with her fingertips.
It was the memory of the pre-regression festival. Magical beasts had appeared in the Imperial Hunting Ground while the family heads and their wives were there to collect offerings for the gods.
She hadn’t recalled it immediately because she had been bedridden with a cold that day.
Lina had told her the news the next morning. Headrin had slaughtered the beasts; while there were injuries, there were no deaths. He had returned drenched in monster blood, unscathed.
‘What should I do……?’
If things followed the original path, it would pass without tragedy. But what if her presence had already shifted the flow? What if she tried to intervene and caused a disaster?
Countless variables swirled in her mind.
The greatest obstacle was how to explain her foresight. She couldn’t very well tell him she had regressed. Would Headrin believe such a nonsensical story?
‘But he believed me about the maids.’
He had protected her and punished them without asking a single question.
Perhaps he would believe her. Even if he didn’t, she had to try. Knowing of an event and preparing for it was always better than standing in the dark.
She decided to go to his chambers. But when she knocked, there was no response.
‘Is he already asleep?’
He wasn’t the type to turn in early, but given his schedule, it was possible. She was debating whether to leave when—
“What brings you here at this hour?”
Blair turned. Headrin stood behind her, arms crossed, leaning against the wall. He wore a loose nightgown, as if he had just finished bathing.
The moment she met his blue eyes, submerged in shadow, she felt like prey locked in the gaze of a predator.
“……I have something I absolutely must tell you.”
Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and her expression was grave. Headrin watched her for a long moment before pushing off the wall and walking into his room.
Blair followed. The room’s warmth seeped into her chilled skin.
Headrin walked to the table, poured a drink of whiskey, and turned to look at her.
“So? What is this urgent message?”
“Magical beasts will appear in the hunting ground tomorrow. It would be best to scout the area before the hunt begins to prevent it.”
Headrin furrowed his brow.
“Where did you hear that?”
The response she had anticipated. She hesitated, then spoke carefully.
“I…… I can see the future.”
Headrin watched her for a beat, then let out a sharp, mocking scoff. He remembered what Ruth had said after Blair visited the guild.
Why was she here in the dead of night, spinning such a preposterous tale? What kind of scheme was she hiding behind that serene face?
The crooked, cynical smile vanished, leaving his expression cold.
“You’re telling me to believe that?”
“I know it sounds absurd, but there is no harm in taking precautions…….”
She stopped as he stepped abruptly into her space. The chilling pressure of his presence made her instinctually step back.
Headrin caught her waist, pulling her flush against him, blocking her retreat.
“Headri—”
His lips came within an inch of hers. She parted them to protest, terrified he might cross the distance.
Headrin hovered there, his breath hot against her skin, and whispered.
“Then, guess what I’m going to do next.”
His ice-blue eyes drove into her like a dagger.