Blair stared blankly at Miella as she entered the room, trailing behind the priest.
‘Could it be… did they know each other from this very moment?’
In her past life, she had heard that Headrin’s injuries were minor, but it was possible they had been severe enough to require treatment that she simply never witnessed.
As that thought took root, the blood in her veins turned to ice.
“Then, Miella, I ask for your swift treatment. The service is scheduled to begin shortly.”
The priest who had escorted Miella made the request.
Headrin’s gaze shifted toward Miella. When their eyes met, his expression remained cool and indifferent. It was a sharp contrast to Miella, who looked as though she were under a spell.
Those were, without a doubt, the eyes of a woman in love.
As Miella stood there, dazed and visibly entranced by him, the priest cleared his throat.
“Priestess Miella?”
“……Ah. I—I apologize!”
Startled, Miella hurriedly approached Headrin. She hesitated, however, unable to bring herself to touch his exposed torso or even meet his gaze properly.
Finally, as if gathering her resolve, she parted her lips.
“T-then, excuse me, Your Grace.”
Her face flushed, unable to hide her embarrassment, and Miella placed her trembling hands on his solid abdomen. She couldn’t even look down at the area she was healing, appearing completely at a loss.
Watching this, a memory from before her regression flashed through Blair’s mind: Headrin holding Miella, his expression distant and icy—the same expression he wore when he looked at Blair.
Blair’s body began to tremble. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a sickening, rhythmic thud.
‘……No.’
She pressed a clenched fist against her chest, desperate to stifle the surging emotions. A wave of self-loathing followed.
It was pathetic. Even after being shattered by him once, she was allowing the exact same cycle to wound her again.
The fact that she felt this stinging pain proved that, despite everything, she still loved him.
Biting her lip, Blair turned her gaze away.
She hated him.
And she hated herself for being unable to let go.
A bright light emerged from Miella’s fingertips as they hovered over Headrin’s skin, soaking into his abdomen. After repeating the process a few times, Miella checked his complexion and asked, “It seems to be finished. How do you feel?”
“I am fine.”
“I am glad I could be of help.”
As if her earlier shyness had vanished, Miella beamed at him. The priest, who had been observing, turned to Headrin.
“The service will begin soon, so I suggest you prepare yourself.”
“I shall.”
The priest offered a brief bow and exited. Miella lingered for a heartbeat, then bowed to Headrin.
“I will always pray that the Goddess bestows her protection upon Your Grace.”
Once she was gone, Headrin reached for the shirt he had set aside. He noticed Blair’s silence and turned back to look at her.
Her usually fair face was pale, almost translucent. She looked fragile, as if a strong gust of wind might knock her over.
Headrin approached her.
“Were you injured at the hunting grounds?”
When he instinctively reached out to steady her, fearing she might collapse, Blair pushed him away.
“……I am fine.”
Before he could press further, she diverted the conversation.
“More importantly, you asked what I saw in the future earlier.”
She had to stop this. She had no intention of revealing the full scope of her prophecy, but seeing how easily she was shaken by him, she knew she had to draw a line.
So, she delivered the final blow.
“That priestess. She is the woman you will love.”
She spoke it to him, but it was a reminder to herself—a demand to excise him from her heart.
“……What?”
“She will be a suitable partner for you, though it is problematic to take her as a mistress yet. As I said, there must be no blemishes on your reputation when we divorce.”
A sharp, mocking laugh erupted from Headrin.
“But if the rumors can be contained—”
Before she could finish, Headrin stepped into her space, his lips devouring hers.
He silenced her mid-sentence and pulled back before she could protest, yet he did not release his hold on her waist. He stared at her with icy eyes, their breaths mingling in the small space between them.
“Even if that were true, why on earth would I take a mistress?”
“…….”
“When I have you.”
His large hand traced her spine, a gesture both gentle and possessive. As she met the shifting, turbulent emotions in his cold blue eyes, her skin prickled.
“Until this contract ends, you are my wife. I will do such things—and things even worse—only with you.”
His deep voice was laced with a chilling authority. He leaned in again, as if to swallow her whole, when—
“Your Grace. The service is about to begin.”
Ruth’s voice came from behind the door.
With a low sigh, Headrin released Blair, grabbed his outer coat, and strode out of the lounge.
Blair stood frozen, staring at his retreating back. She tried to make sense of his reaction. Anyone would be flustered if told they would fall in love with a stranger; naturally, they would deny it.
But in the end, just as he had in her previous life, he would eventually love Miella.
She was the only one who remembered a future that no longer existed, and she was the only one burdened by the scars of a life that had been erased. Therefore, she was the only one who could end this.
Blair had no intention of changing his fate.
‘Even if his future changes and he comes to love someone else, it will never be me.’
She would disappear. For the sake of them both.
Trying to compose herself, she turned to follow him, but her foot caught on something.
It was Headrin’s cravat.
* * *
Headrin headed toward the main building of the temple. Ruth had returned to his duties, and Blair was trailing behind.
Headrin could feel her presence, the memory of her words burning in his mind.
‘That priestess earlier, she is the woman you will love.’
The absurdity of her “future” was one thing, but what truly set his blood boiling was her composure. She had spoken as if his heart were a matter of public policy, something completely detached from her own life.
She wanted their divorce to be spotless, and she viewed his future love as nothing more than an impediment to that goal.
He didn’t understand why this made him so furious.
“Head-rin.”
Blair’s voice floated from behind. She was breathless, struggling to match his long strides.
Headrin stifled a weary sigh and raked his hand through his bangs, finally slowing his pace.
When she caught up, she held out the cravat, gasping for air.
“You dropped this.”
Headrin stared silently at the fabric in her hand before leaning his head toward her.
“Tie it.”
Blair blinked. She saw the coat draped over his right arm and understood.
She had learned the art of the cravat during her bride training. In her previous life, she had performed this duty for him countless times. He had often used the ritual as an excuse to pull her close, holding her even when they had no time to spare.
……In the end, that, too, had been a lie.
She knew now that his request held no sentiment, yet the intimacy of the task felt heavy. She hesitated, then stepped forward, her arms rising to circle his neck.
As the distance closed, the snowy-white nape of her neck drew near. Her unique, sweet scent rushed over him.
Suddenly, memories of their wedding night flared: the sensation of burying his lips against that soft skin, the way she had shivered beneath his touch, and that beautiful, trusting face looking up at him.
‘……I’ve truly lost my mind.’
He regretted the demand instantly. What had possessed him?
He swallowed the desire scraping at his throat, though his gaze remained anchored to her.
Blair, oblivious to his internal turmoil, focused entirely on the fabric. Her brow was slightly furrowed, her lips pursed, and her fingers brushed his neck with a feather-light touch that made him tighten his grip on his coat.
“It’s done.”
She smoothed the silk and stepped back. At that moment, Headrin caught her hand.
Blair looked up, confused, into his eyes.
Headrin realized he had grabbed her hand subconsciously and winced, but he didn’t let go. Instead, his blue eyes locked onto her, burning with an intensity that made it feel as though he were about to devour her right there.