Karia stared at the ring with a grave expression, unable to take her eyes off it.
Alcard couldn’t tell whether she liked the gift or found it burdensome.
While anxiously waiting for her response, he finally whispered the magic phrase that used to win her over every time.
“It’s from Father. You can accept it.”
“What about last year? Did he send a gift then too?”
Karia didn’t respond with what he had hoped. Instead, she asked a strange question. Alcard pouted, feeling that she wasn’t appreciating his efforts at all, and replied curtly.
“Why is your memory so bad for someone so young? Last year it was a necklace. I searched high and low for a necklace to match the earrings he gave you the year before.”
“You said earlier that whenever you came to visit, I made excuses about being sick. When exactly did you come?”
“When? Uh… let me think.”
Six months ago, for Father’s birthday. Then for New Year’s, to see her briefly. And once more during the hunting tournament, to bring her a wolf pelt. Alcard kept trying to recall more.
He also mentioned sending her health supplements when she said she wasn’t feeling well, and confessed he was disappointed she hadn’t even sent a note in return.
But none of what he mentioned had ever reached Karia.
“…Hah.”
“What? What’s wrong? Is something the matter?”
She couldn’t hold back her bitter laugh.
Where had all those things he sent gone? This wasn’t something she could just brush off like the other things.
“Now we see who the real lowlife is.”
Just moments earlier, Karia had intended to reveal the Duchess’s true nature, leave the Duke, and sever ties with this family entirely.
It was understandable—human nature—to not want to give up what you have, and though she couldn’t forgive them, she thought she could at least understand.
So she was prepared to cast it all away, letting them cling to their precious, noble lineage.
But if they had dared to take what was hers, the situation changed.
“How dare they… take what belongs to me.”
Karia, a bone-deep alchemist who lived by the law of equivalent exchange, considered theft the most unforgivable sin—not lies, not disrespect, not even being slapped.
She didn’t know whether it was out of greed, to isolate her, or simply to torment her.
But one thing was clear: this, she would not tolerate.
“Go back.”
“Already? But we’ve only just met…”
“Go back and tell His Grace the Grand Duke—I’ll visit this evening.”
“This evening? Tonight? Just like that?”
Alcard’s eyes widened, asking multiple times to confirm if she meant today. It was no surprise—Karia hadn’t visited the ducal castle once since her marriage.
“Is that a problem?”
“–Well, not exactly…”
What had suddenly changed her mind about visiting the castle? Though it wasn’t bad news, Alcard had a strange sense of unease.
Still, he wasn’t the master of the castle, nor did he feel like stopping his sister from finally returning home.
He nodded lightly and turned away without hesitation. If he wanted to inform them of her arrival by dinner, he had to hurry.
“It’s been ages since you’ve visited home. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Sure.”
Alcard was about to nod casually and leave, but then he suddenly turned back in shock.
He seriously wondered what kind of magic this was—Karia was smiling brightly.
She had always been the kind of girl who only gave the faintest, shyest of smiles, even when she was truly happy. And even that had been rare.
“You look so happy.”
“Of course. It’s been so long.”
As he quietly watched her, Alcard noticed something else: his sister wasn’t avoiding his gaze like she used to.
“Something’s happened… I need to find out what.”
He was no longer the eight-year-old boy who believed every smile was just a sign of happiness.
—
2. Shall I make an Elixir?
“What’s gotten into her?”
Rubidov Pandeon hadn’t slept a wink last night, trying to figure out why his wife had changed—but he found no answers.
No wonder, since he had always believed without question that his marriage was a peaceful one.
‘Welcome home, Your Grace. You look tired.’
She always greeted him with a warm smile. She never once complained about his busy schedule or the noticeably smaller allowance for maintaining her dignity compared to when she lived in the Grand Duke’s castle.
‘Your Grace, no matter how busy you are, please don’t skip meals. It’s bad for your health.’
She was a thoughtful woman. When he was home, she made sure he didn’t miss his meals. Of course, even if she hadn’t, the servants would have taken care of it, but it was still nice knowing someone cared.
‘Your Grace, the flowers in the garden are in full bloom. Why don’t you take a walk and relax a bit?’
He regretted not being able to grant those small requests. Sometimes, she would shyly ask him to take a walk, have tea, or stay a little longer.
He would have, if he could. But Rubidov was far too busy to linger around the estate with his wife. So he had asked for her understanding, and believed they had come to terms with that.
“Is she mad because I wasn’t there when she was sick?”
It was an unreasonable thought, especially during such a busy time.
She probably didn’t know, but Rubidov had already been scheduled to visit the estate days ago. But since Karia was injured—right in front of his eyes, no less—he had delayed his trip to stay until she woke.
Yet once she regained consciousness, she acted like a completely different person. She left the estate overnight without a word, constantly caused trouble, and even locked up the family elder in a shocking act.
“I thought she was different from those arrogant royals who rely only on bloodline and wealth.”
He never showed it to anyone but his two closest friends, but Rubidov actually held deep resentment toward the royal family.
The Pandeon dukedom had served the royal house loyally since the foundation of the Kastaros Empire. Even when the empire split into three, they remained devoted to their homeland.
But when their territory was ravaged by war and bandits looted their people, what had the royal family done?
They sent barely noticeable aid for show, without providing any real solutions.
Once a thriving winter city full of tourists, his estate now suffered every fall in preparation for the harsh season.
The long-standing economic slump that had begun generations ago came to a head during his father’s time. And Rubidov, after inheriting the title, spent all his time trying to fix it.
He lived his life forcing smiles and playing politics with those who mocked him while clutching their purses tight, unwilling to spare a single coin.
“Could she have found out about that incident? No way…”
His thoughts tangled messily, until a sudden jolt of dread struck him.
Surely not. That incident was just a drunken mistake.
If the woman had any sense, she wouldn’t go around sullying both their reputations.
“…Would she?”
Even trying to think positively, Rubidov couldn’t be sure. Grabbing his aching forehead, he called for his butler. The urgency in his voice made the man run in, gasping.
“Gasp! Y-yes, Your Grace?”
“Butler, has my wife been acting strangely lately? Not today—about a month ago or so.”
“I’m not sure…”
The butler had mostly followed the Duchess around, not Karia. Aside from her volunteer days, she mostly stayed in her room—there hadn’t been a reason to keep a close eye on her.
Naturally, Rubidov frowned at the vague answer.
“Oh, but I did hear that she recently argued with her doctor. Some say she faked an illness, and also buried herself in the study and skipped many meals.”
“And you just let her skip meals?”
The butler, trying hard to be helpful, shrank back under his master’s scolding. He had only answered what was asked, but was treated like he’d done something wrong.
“Something’s off. No… it can’t be.”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“Where is she now? What is the Duchess doing?”
“Ah, the Duchess is currently…”
Just then, a horse’s neigh interrupted their conversation. No one was supposed to ride in this part of the estate—startled, Rubidov stood up and looked out the window.
“…She appears to be going out.”
His wife’s string of bizarre behaviors showed no sign of stopping.
—
* * *
Soaked in sweat from her neck and back, Karia paused at the capital plaza where the fountain stood. She had to take a crowded route today and couldn’t use magic for assistance—so she had ridden a horse, which turned out to be a mistake.
In the old days, she had ridden into battle on horseback. But back then, she hadn’t realized how unfit she had become. All she had done recently was go on light walks, so her body tired far too quickly.
After all, hadn’t she always traveled by c
arriage? A small, shabby one without even the Pandeon crest—under the pretense of avoiding bandits and danger.
