Chapter 4
A month had already passed.
Dahlia, who had attended Princess Arabella’s banquet, stepped out onto the terrace. After making sure the red curtains were tightly drawn so that the terrace could not be seen from inside the hall, she leaned against the railing.
She looked far thinner than she had a month ago.
Gazing at the coldly beautiful moon, Dahlia let out a quiet sigh.
For the past month, she had searched everywhere for a solution. She had even stepped into blazing furnaces and gone so far as to drink poison. Yet after days of suffering in agony, the child remained perfectly unharmed.
Even so, she could not afford to miss Princess Arabella’s banquet, and so she had forced herself to attend.
…Lancaster must be here as well.
She glanced briefly at the closed curtain before lowering her head.
It had already been three months. Her morning sickness and headaches were worsening, and now her belly was slowly beginning to show.
She had managed to silence Count Noirrose by threatening death, but there was no telling when his mouth might open again.
Haah…
In a situation like this, was it really right for her to be wasting time here?
Her heart pounded unpleasantly with anxiety.
I should leave before I run into Lancaster or Princess Arabella.
The attendant had already recorded her name on the attendance list, so Princess Arabella would have no grounds to take issue with her.
She could spend a little time alone here, then quietly slip away.
Just as Dahlia turned her head back toward the moon—
The tightly drawn curtain suddenly flew open.
At the same time, a familiar figure stepped onto the terrace.
“Cocktail?”
It was Leonard, holding a glass.
“…Lancaster.”
The focus drained from her eyes as she looked at him.
“I thought you’d be here. Here.”
There was more than one terrace at the banquet hall.
So how had he known she would be here?
Dahlia stared at the cocktail he offered before turning her head away.
“…I’m not thirsty.”
“That’s unusual. You refusing a drink?”
With a small smile, he downed the cocktail meant for her in one go.
Then, cautiously watching her reaction, he added,
“I sent you a letter.”
“…I didn’t see it.”
In truth, she had.
On the worst birthday—one that none of her family even remembered—Leonard’s letter had arrived with a gift, containing an apology for having made her uncomfortable.
“I sent you a birthday gift too. Didn’t you like it?”
Leonard’s gaze quickly swept over her dress, which was the same one she had worn at last month’s banquet.
Dahlia’s shoulders trembled slightly.
I liked it.
She barely answered him in her mind.
The gift he had sent was a red dress that matched her eyes. It was adorned with emeralds that sparkled like sapphires and fine gold thread—perfectly suited to Dahlia’s taste for extravagance.
Yet she responded coldly, without even glancing his way.
“Did you? I wouldn’t know. My father might’ve sold it.”
“…Hmm, really? Well, if the count made good use of the money, then I suppose that’s fine.”
One might expect him to be offended, but Leonard simply shrugged lightly, as if it didn’t bother him at all.
“Dahlia.”
Then he called her name in a low voice.
His gaze shifted to her hand gripping the terrace railing tightly.
Her fingertips were unusually pale, trembling so faintly that only a perceptive person would notice.
“You…”
Now that he thought about it, she seemed thinner than a month ago. No—she definitely was.
There was clearly something wrong with her.
The moment that realization struck him, he asked immediately,
“Are you sick? Are you unwell?”
“That’s impossible.”
Only then did Dahlia meet his gaze directly.
If she used illness as an excuse, she could easily avoid him—but at the same time, she didn’t want to make him worry.
This is why I never wanted to get deeply involved with anyone.
She couldn’t even make sense of her own feelings.
Avoiding his eyes again like a guilty person, she lowered her gaze.
Her only friend—Leonard.
Soon, she wouldn’t even be able to call him that.
The thought made her chest tighten, as if tears might spill over.
Dahlia took a quiet breath, too soft for him to hear, and composed her expression as if nothing were wrong.
“I think I just stayed out in the wind too long. I was about to head back anyway.”
“…Already?”
He looked at her with confusion.
But without answering, Dahlia brushed past him as if fleeing.
“Dahlia, wait—”
His hand suddenly caught her wrist.
Though he held her gently, mindful of her, Dahlia’s brows twisted sharply for a moment.
Leonard truly was a man who had everything—title, wealth, and above all, kindness.
Now…
His ducal title, his endless wealth—but more than anything, his gentle nature.
I have to cut him off.
Now was the time to sever ties with her only friend.
She bitterly regretted that first night they had spent together while drunk—but it couldn’t be undone.
If the relationship was bound to collapse anyway, perhaps it was better not to drag it out.
With that thought, she steeled herself and spoke.
“Lancaster.”
Her voice was colder than the chill creeping into the air as she shook off his hand.
“I’m not in the mood for that today.”
Inside, Dahlia carefully chose the words that would hurt him the most.
What should she say to make him let go of whatever feelings he still had for her?
What words would wound him the deepest?
For her, deliberately selecting words to hurt Leonard was unbearably painful.
But it was far better than him despising her for carrying his child.
And for him as well, hearing a few harsh words would be better than learning that a child bearing the blood he hated had been conceived.
“If you want to satisfy your lust, find another woman.”
Having deliberately provoked him, she turned to leave the terrace.
“…Lust?”
But Leonard had no intention of letting her go so easily.
With angry strides, he blocked her path.
Grasping her wrist again—carefully, so as not to hurt her—he spoke, his expression wounded.
“You clearly look unwell. Do you think I’d do something to you?”
A hollow laugh escaped his lips, the corner of his mouth twisting in disbelief.
“What am I, a beast? Like I can’t go a single day without a woman—”
“Yes. You’re no different from one.”
“Dahlia!”
Leonard’s voice rose without him realizing.
Dahlia stared at him, her face so pale it seemed almost devoid of life.
Perhaps she was the one who ruined everything.
Her useless family relying solely on her… their relationship turning out this way… even this unwanted child—
Perhaps it was all her fault.
Perhaps the problem had been her from the very beginning.
With emotionless eyes, she murmured,
“Our relationship… it’s abnormal.”
“Abnormal?”
His eyes reddened with anger.
He immediately shot back,
“If we’re abnormal, then what’s normal? What is normal?”
“We’re not lovers, and we’re not married. And yet, whenever we wanted, we spent nights together.”
Her lowered lashes trembled.
Afraid she might cry, Dahlia deliberately furrowed her brow.
“Is that normal?”
At her words, Leonard couldn’t respond.
…I’m sorry, Leonard. The truth is…
Even though their relationship had been mutual, she now spoke as if she were a victim, her words laced with thorns.
And those very thorns, which wounded his heart, were tearing at hers as well.
I’m carrying your child.
The truth she could never tell him stayed buried inside.
Biting her lip to hold back tears, she forced herself to speak calmly.
“Let’s end this.”
“…What?”
“I said let’s end it, Lancaster. From now on, we…”
After a brief pause, Dahlia drove in the final blow.
“We can’t even go back to being friends.”
“Dahlia!”
“…Take care.”
Of all the words they had exchanged, only the last one was sincere.
As she passed him, a single tear rolled down her cheek.
