chapter 06
Maia stared at Madam Hauer, who was fussing over her, grabbing her hand and exclaiming how thin she had become.
She wanted to explain that she had already submitted the divorce papers, that Duke Weston had suddenly rejected them, that he had dragged her back to the duke’s estate and locked her in like a prisoner when she tried to leave, and that now she was refusing food to protest, just to get the divorce finalized.
“Madam, tomato soup was always your favorite, wasn’t it? I simmered it slowly. Please, have some before it gets cold.”
But how could she say all that?
Maia looked down at the steaming bowl of soup placed in front of her, conflicted.
Yet she couldn’t bring herself to disappoint Madam Hauer, who was beaming at her with such warmth.
And then—
Growl—
She had been desperately realizing what it truly felt like to be starving.
“…I’ll eat it.”
It was beyond her will.
Maia took a spoonful of the rich soup and held it in her mouth.
“It’s so good…”
A wave of overwhelming emotion surged through her, and tears nearly welled up.
Seeing Maia nearly in tears as she muttered her praise, Madam Hauer smiled contentedly.
Thanks to Madam Hauer, Maia was finally able to fill her stomach.
She walked away, feeling warmer and a bit happier than before. But as she turned a corner in the corridor, her light steps froze in place.
“You…! Where have you been all this time?!”
The man’s furious voice rang out as he rushed up to her in an instant.
It was Duke Weston.
Her heart pounded violently.
She worried he might notice she had eaten.
Maia looked up at the Duke nervously.
“You haven’t eaten for over two days. Do you really think someone raised as delicately as you can last much longer?”
His face, usually composed with cold rationality, now held a clear trace of anger.
“Come with me.”
He grabbed her arm.
“Wh-What?! Let go of me!”
Startled by his rudeness, Maia cried out, having never experienced such behavior before.
“No matter what you do, I will not agree to the divorce.”
He coldly declared, pulling her along. Maia barely held back a curse from spilling out.
Maybe it was the sheer frustration—her throat stung, and something heavy welled up from her chest.
“Stop…!”
She clenched her teeth and tried to shout again—
“Cough!”
A sharp pain pierced her throat, and a violent cough burst out.
“Wha…?”
Then, a gush of red liquid surged up.
“What is this…?”
It stained the front of her white nightgown crimson.
Maia muttered blankly.
She couldn’t even understand what this red liquid, soaking through her white clothes, could possibly be.
Could it be… blood?
A slow wave of shock rose within her.
Had she just coughed up blood?
The horrified light in her sky-blue eyes confirmed that what she was seeing wasn’t an illusion.
As Maia’s lips trembled and parted, more blood dribbled from her mouth.
“Maia!”
A dull pain struck her head, and she couldn’t hold on any longer. She collapsed to the floor.
Someone’s arms caught her back, and a voice kept yelling near her ear, but she couldn’t understand any of it.
It felt like a wild beast was clawing at her insides with sharp talons, never stopping.
Gasping in pain, Maia’s consciousness began to fade.
Then, suddenly, a memory surfaced.
“I heard Madam Mary Hauer returned to the kitchen after finishing her husband’s funeral.”
It was what the head maid had told her, even though Maia had been refusing food.
Her shattered mind plummeted into the darkness.
Visions filled her sight—too blurred to distinguish whether they were dreams or reality.
“I’ve already been married once. I’m not strong enough to completely cut out the memory of my late wife.”
He had said that quietly as they walked along a sunset-lit beach.
She had looked up at him with some kind of expression—
But she couldn’t remember what it was.
“But I don’t want to lose you. I don’t think I can live alone anymore.”
With those words, he stopped walking.
His ocean-blue eyes, tinged with a soft orange glow, held her gaze deeply.
“Maia.”
He whispered her name gently.
“In the name of Lucas de Agnolis Weston, I propose to you.”
His hand reached out and brushed her cheek.
So lightly it was almost unnoticeable.
Yet at that moment, even that breeze-like touch brought her to tears.
“Will you accept my proposal?”
And so, without a moment’s hesitation, she answered.
“Yes. I accept.”
She had feared that if she hesitated even slightly, this happiness—barely cradled in her hands—might slip through like the sand beneath their feet.
With tears brimming in her eyes, she smiled. And he, too, smiled at her answer. It was the first clear expression of emotion he had ever shown.
Her heart raced. She had truly believed he was happy she accepted his proposal.
She thought this beautiful moment would last forever.
“Why?! Why are you doing this to me?”
The memory began to collapse from one corner, triggered by a desperate cry.
“Why is the former duchess’s portrait still hanging? Why won’t you even hold my hand? Why do you keep leaving me alone? Is this what marriage is? No, this is worse than being strangers! You loved me, didn’t you? That’s why you proposed to me!”
Maia had shouted at the Duke, her voice shaking with desperation.
He looked back at her with tired eyes.
“…I never loved you.”
At that moment, she felt even her tears freeze.
“But you are the person I chose. As the Duchess of Weston, enjoy your status, honor, and power. That should be enough for you.”
No. No, no—then why did you come to me?
If only he had remained just a dream-like first love. Then maybe it wouldn’t have hurt so much.
Why did he propose to me if he didn’t love me?
She collapsed into the black abyss.
It was the first time that her once-precious first love had cracked.
She thought she had accepted everything.
She thought there wasn’t a single feeling left inside her.
But tears still fell. Her heart still ached.
Why did I ever love him?
From the first moment she saw him, her heart had skipped.
The unfamiliar, tingling feeling in her chest even made her excited.
That’s how she had come to like him.
That’s how she came to love him.
But he gave her nothing in return.
That was what hurt the most.
So she sat there, crying endlessly in sorrow.
“Stop crying, you little brat.”
That was when a voice echoed through the darkness.
Before she could even turn to look, someone’s warm hand gently took hers.
“Every time I see you, you’re crying again.”
She stared blankly at the figure—one that spoke with a gruff tone but gently wiped her tears with a kind touch.
She still wasn’t fully conscious, and her mind was hazy. But she thought she saw the figure smile faintly at her.
“Purple, the color born from the sorrow of gods… maybe that’s why you cry so much.”
Ah, those words…
Her eyes opened wide in realization.
“You’re not… Ri…”
The glowing figure let out a soft laugh and scattered like stardust.
No—Maia reached out in desperation, but there was nothing there to grasp.
“—Madam, you’re awake.”
Maia opened her eyes.
The first thing she heard was a maid’s soft voice.
“Rihi…”
Standing on the boundary between dream and reality, Maia murmured faintly.
And in that moment, all her memories came rushing back.
“Madam!”
Maia shot up.
The pain that had clawed through her stomach before she fainted was completely gone.
“What happened…?”
“Madam Mary Hauer poisoned you. It was an attempted murder.”
The maid answered calmly.
Maia slowly turned her head.
“…What?”
The maid explained further.
“Shale Rose Scamander. She’s one of the maids at the estate. She testified that she saw you eating the food Madam Hauer prepared. His Grace immediately had her thrown into prison and left your side to personally interrogate her.”
“So… now…”
Maia’s voice trembled as she waved her hand as if trying to chase away something clinging to her.
Her eyes, always filled with clarity, grew cloudy.
“…She tried to poison me?”
Maia muttered in a low voice.
