“Is it difficult? This much is very simple.”
His cold gaze and mocking voice scraped against Blair’s skin. She looked up at him, her eyes wavering.
*……You don’t trust me.*
His true feelings struck her more clearly than ever before. She had been mistaken. The only reason he had taken her side regarding Lina was that he could not tolerate the impudence of the servants. To insult his wife was, after all, no different from insulting him.
Her own expectations now seemed ridiculous.
Blair lowered her eyes, avoiding his stare. Her eyelashes trembled as she slowly closed and reopened them. Then, pushing against his chest, she slipped out of his embrace.
“……I’m sorry. I had a dream.”
Her voice, forced out, shook uncontrollably. Blair turned and left the room.
Headrin watched her back until the door clicked shut, then downed the remainder of the whiskey in his glass. The alcohol, poured into an empty stomach, burned as if he had swallowed a fireball.
* * *
The sound of horseshoes echoed through the silent winter forest.
Startled by the noise, mountain birds took flight, their sudden departure sending thick clumps of snow cascading from the tree branches. The winter hunt was proceeding smoothly. The first event of the New Year’s Festival required each family to capture a mountain offering at the Imperial Hunting Ground to present to the gods. Unlike other festivals, the winter hunt was conducted by individual families rather than through a joint effort.
Because it was said that the gods favored rarer offerings, the nobles competed subtly to catch the most impressive game. It was, in essence, a contest where the house’s pride was at stake.
As it was a family competition, noblewomen were permitted to accompany their husbands on horseback. Blair was among them.
Headrin’s gaze, while scouting for game, drifted toward Blair as she followed behind him. Seeing her face flushed from the cold, a memory from yesterday crossed his mind.
*‘Magical beasts will appear on the hunting grounds tomorrow.’*
If that were true, they should have appeared by now. It was strange that she, knowing this, had willingly followed him into such a dangerous place.
*‘What on earth is she thinking?’*
Headrin let out a low sigh and called for the captain of the Del Marc knights trailing behind him.
“Kyle.”
The knight spurred his horse forward.
“Ensure the Duchess’s safety is absolute.”
“By your command.”
The captain signaled his subordinates, pointing toward Blair to relay the order. Understanding the implication, the knights moved to stand by her side.
From behind Headrin, a small, wet coughing sound reached his ears. His brow furrowed. His eyes, busy scanning the white snow for game, narrowed.
Then, a shriek echoed in the distance.
*Screech!*
It sounded like a wild boar. Along with the frantic flapping of birds, Blair’s sharp intake of breath was audible.
The boar’s cry did not stop; it continued, repetitive and grating. Someone was struggling, firing arrow after arrow and failing to take the beast down. What a fool, to waste so much ammunition on a single target.
Just as Headrin was sneering at the incompetent marksman, a knight shouted urgently.
“Your Grace, I see a white sable!”
A sable wandered across the snow. White sable fur was the most precious of all—a fitting offering for the gods.
Headrin drew his bowstring and fired. The arrow flew true, piercing the animal, and the white snow was splattered with its blood.
Headrin confirmed the kill and turned his horse to leave when a hollow, aged tree caught his eye. He dismounted and approached, seeing a baby sable inside that had yet to open its eyes.
*……It had a cub.*
Headrin pulled a dagger from his belt. At that moment, Blair’s voice cut through the air.
“Headrin. What… are you doing?”
“Without its mother, it will soon become prey for a predator. It would be kinder to end it now.”
“No!”
Blair climbed down from her horse and grabbed his wrist. Headrin’s brow narrowed.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“It might survive.”
“A nursing cub that hasn’t even opened its eyes, in the middle of winter? Food is scarce, and the cold is lethal.”
“Even if it is destined to die, you cannot call this mercy. It is better to live one day longer than not at all.”
Headrin let out a dry laugh. Was this hopeless optimism, or hypocrisy? Either way, it was a trait he loathed.
“Do you think it will feel that way while being chewed alive by a wolf?”
He chose his words to be as raw as possible, aiming to shatter her resolve. But—
“I will raise it.”
The woman who had always feigned defeat and followed his will stood her ground, not backing down an inch. Her eyes were sharper than ever. She looked like a mother protecting her young. He found the sight disagreeable.
What was such a lowly creature worth?
“I wonder if that thing would even want to be taken in by the one who watched its mother die.”
Headrin taunted her, reminding her of her own position. If even a beast had thoughts, it would prefer death to being saved by the hand of its enemy—just as he loathed the Imperial Family and his own fake wife who belonged to it.
Realizing the implication, Blair’s expression twisted, but she did not retreat. She looked at the corpse of the mother sable with sunken eyes.
“……Even so, this child’s mother would have wanted it to survive, at any cost.”
A knight, watching the tension with a troubled expression, cautiously interjected.
“Um… Your Grace. Perhaps it wouldn’t be bad to raise it as the Duchess suggests. Since it’s a white sable, we could bring it up and eventually harvest its fur…”
The knight, trying to take her side, fell silent when he caught Blair’s look of contempt.
Headrin sighed, pulled his hand from Blair’s grip, and turned away.
Understanding the dismissal, Blair carefully took the baby sable from the nest. Even from a creature smaller than her palm, she could feel a vibrant warmth. The cub, unable to open its eyes, cried out—*peep, peep*—as if searching for its mother. Her throat tightened.
*After I died, what happened to Aziel?*
Only then did she think of the child left behind. Perhaps the assassin had killed him. Even if the child had been lucky enough to survive, he would have been an eyesore to Headrin, who loved Miella. Either way, the ending was not a happy one.
It felt sudden, the depth of her hatred for him.
Blair watched Headrin’s receding back, then snapped to her senses as the sable cried out again. She took off her glove and tucked the cub inside it.
The knight watching her reached out.
“Duchess, I will take care of this little one. Please, mount your horse.”
“No. I will take it.”
“But it will be difficult to ride while carrying it. It’s dangerous…”
“I will walk.”
Despite the knight’s concern, Blair was immovable. Just as the knight began to waver, Headrin, who had heard their exchange, approached with her horse. He stepped close, lifted her effortlessly, and sat her onto the saddle.
“Headrin…?”
Blair blinked, startled. Headrin climbed up behind her and ordered the knight, “See to the Duchess’s horse.”
He reached around her waist with one arm to support her, his grip firm and proprietary. With the other, he grabbed the reins and guided the horse forward. His cold eyes were fixed on the path ahead, but his arm felt like a shackle he intended to keep in place.
Blair lowered her head. She should have been grateful, but hearing the sorrowful, peeping cries of the baby sable, she could not speak. It was ridiculous that she found this cold man’s embrace warm, and that she instinctively felt safe within it.
The winter wind brushed past them in silence. As Blair coughed in the chill, Headrin pulled the fur-lined hood of her cloak over her head.
“You said a magical beast would appear, yet you followed me here. You could have been killed.”
It was not so much a taunt as a sign of his displeasure.
*Come to think of it……*
The beast had not yet appeared. There were no shrieks of terror, only the sound of birds.
*Could it be that the future has changed simply because I accompanied the hunting party today?*
If that were the case, it would be best to pretend it was just a dream to avoid further suspicion.
Just as Blair reached this conclusion, she saw something through the coniferous forest. Her eyes began to shake violently.
Between the trees was a giant, unblinking eye.
In that instant, the pupil shifted and locked gazes with hers. A freezing chill tore through her spine.