Yura is not someone you can speak of so carelessly.

Among dark elves, some show courtesy toward humans, while others do not.

Vika Lamberst was precisely the latter kind of dark elf.

“Don’t force your human manners on me. Even calling her ‘Madam’ is something unthinkable in my homeland.”

Sikar Blake nodded at Vika’s expected reaction.

“You’d think that way. But what if Yura isn’t just an ordinary human?”

“I know she’s a special human from another dimension who can see the future—but so what? That’s all there is to it.”

“No. Yura is the one who saved your life.”

Until now, the only time my life had ever been in danger was when I owed Sikar Blake my life.

But saved my life? Vika couldn’t readily accept that claim.

“Since I met you, I’ve never felt my life was in danger.”

“Yura saved your life before it even became endangered.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“You know Yura’s visions of the future have never been wrong.”

Vika’s pupils trembled violently.

“Then… could it be…”

“Yura changed your fate of death.”

“Is… that really true?”

“Why would I lie about something like that?”

“But the Duke doesn’t hesitate to lie when necessary—why should I believe you?”

“You’ve never seen me lie about my family.”

Vika had no choice but to believe Sikar’s words. Yet, even admitting belief somehow wounded his pride.

Vika grumbled pointlessly.

“So your wife is such an extraordinary being? So extraordinary you won’t even lie?”

“If you don’t understand, why don’t you try getting married yourself? See how your husband treats you.”

Vika, who had been listening silently, now flared up as if he couldn’t endure another word.

“Are you insane?! Husband? Don’t say such disgusting things!”

“I thought you didn’t understand my special situation.”

“So marriage makes you this happy? Singing ‘Madam, Madam’ like a lovebird?”

“It’s not only because of Yura. Kian…”

“What?”

“Kian lost his biological father, but he still has hope of finding his birth mother. I want to protect that hope for him. That somewhere in this world, there’s blood kin who gave birth to him. Just knowing that fact and living without forgetting it—that alone can be great strength.”

“The Duke has become so dull. Soft and boring. Well, I suppose it’s good that the young master’s mind and body are healthy. You’ll grow strong enough to break the Duke’s curse, so our pact will end sooner. But this is the only time. I won’t join you in risking my life for someone else! Since Madam once saved my life, I’ll overlook it just this once. Remember that. Understood?”

“I’ll remember.”

“You absolutely must. Otherwise, pact or not, I’ll kill you.”

It was a pact binding their fates together—if Sikar died, Vika could not escape death either.

Thus, Vika’s words meant he would kill Sikar and himself too.

“Killing me won’t be so easy. Better to hope Durion finds Veronia quickly.”

“When will that dull bear-like fellow ever find her?”

“He seems slow because of his roundabout personality, but he’s as fast as any Finder when it comes to tracking people.”

“The Finders would feel wronged hearing that.”

Vika yawned wearily and said,

“I’ll probably be coming home around dawn for a while. Keep that in mind. If Madam has nightmares, I won’t know, so you deal with it or not—it’s up to you.”

Sikar smiled bitterly.

“You must be tired—go upstairs now.”

A soft hand encircling my waist…

A warm breath touching my nape…

Something about this… feels like someone is hugging me from behind…

Come to think of it, Sikar fell asleep here yesterday too.

I opened my eyes abruptly—and sure enough, Sikar was soundly embracing me from behind.

Lately, since Vika has been frequently leaving the house at night, he’s been sleeping in my room every day.

So this is how it happened.

“You—you! I told you to just hold hands while sleeping!”

A lazy, indifferent voice came from behind me.

“When you sleep, you end up holding hands, feet, everything.”

“My waist isn’t a foot—could you please move this hand?”

Obediently, Sikar removed the hand he’d placed on my waist.

I couldn’t tell whether it was his tousled hair as he slowly rose from the bed beside me, or the glimpse of his rugged chest muscles peeking through his shirt—but the awakened Sikar looked incredibly sexy.

“Strangely, whenever I’m with you, I seem to oversleep. We must hurry if we don’t want to be late for the tea party.”

Of course I overslept—since he stays awake watching over my nightmares.

As Sikar said, today was the day of the tea party, so we had to prepare quickly.

Since I hadn’t yet confirmed whether the medicine Sikar gave me was effective, I remained tense until entering the party hall.

Whether it was the medicine’s effect or simply because the hall had fewer people than expected, fortunately, I felt surprisingly well—enough to astonish even myself.

Sikar, seemingly satisfied, slightly lifted the corners of his mouth.

“It seems the medicine is working well. Shall we test it further?”

“Test?”

“Take my hand and step forward among the crowd—you’ll know then.”

“Among people…”

Where Sikar was looking, nobles of all kinds had gathered, enjoying tea and conversation.

Even with the medicine, stepping forward among people was still too much.

“I hate being in front of crowds.”

“Fine. That can be done slowly. More importantly… I’ve reviewed Count Hamel’s memories. Fortunately, he has many unsavory traits. He routinely makes inappropriate advances toward women—so instruct Hersia to behave exactly as I told you.”

“Routinely making advances? What a lowlife!”

“He’s the kind who can reduce innocent Hersia to tears with just a few words. Tell her to brace herself firmly.”

“What kind of man is Count Hamel, exactly?”

“He is…”

Count Hamel ran a transport business, smuggling all kinds of drugs and legally prohibited goods—and even bought and sold young girls and women.

Outwardly appearing as a dignified count, inwardly he was a slippery serpent, the type who would toy with Hersia like a plaything in his palm.

While Sikar conversed with other nobles, I first greeted the Queen, then met Hersia and instructed her on how to handle Count Hamel.

Hersia, upon hearing my words, wore an expression of sheer horror.

“Is Count Hamel truly such a person?”

“Yes. According to His Grace the Duke, Count Hamel is an utterly despicable man. He might say strange things to you, Lady Hersia, so you must handle yourself wisely. Absolutely do not lose heart.”

Hersia sighed deeply, her face grave.

With her tender heart, unable to say no to anyone, and prone to stuttering in fright whenever someone speaks to her—she must feel terribly unsure how to respond.

So I bolstered her confidence a little more.

“If you, Lady, confront Count Hamel more firmly, this marriage might dissolve far more easily than expected.”

“Could that really be possible?”

“Of course. Naturally. Count Hamel might prick himself and overturn this marriage.”

Hersia nodded resolutely, as if firmly decided.

“Alright. Then I will firmly corner Count Hamel!”

She seemed to have steeled her resolve. Please, let her maintain that determination to the very end.

“I wish you success, Hersia.”

While being introduced to Count Hamel by the Queen, Hersia recalled the Duchess’s words.

‘If you confront Count Hamel properly, this marriage could dissolve more easily.’

It wouldn’t be easy—but if doing so meant causing slightly less trouble for the Blake family, who had helped her so far, she had to summon even more courage.

No matter how firmly the King stood behind him.

“Long time no see, Count Hamel.”

Queen Dianne’s smile, as if looking down on people, was cold.

“Your Majesty, you remain as beautiful as if I’d seen you just yesterday.”

The Queen took no pleasure in Hamel’s flattering words. Knowing what kind of man he was, she felt not delight but disgust, as if she’d suffered indecent conduct.

Had it not been for the impending marriage to Hersia, she would have rebuked him immediately—but for now, she treated him cordially. The day to punish him would come soon enough.

The Queen introduced Hersia to Count Hamel, who was already leering at her.

“Make your greetings. This is Lady Hersia Mobiat, your Majesty’s cousin.”

Count Hamel, who already knew he would meet Hersia here, feigned surprise as if he’d never expected it.

“It is an immense honor to meet Lady Hersia in person, of whom I’ve only heard tales.”

Hersia, poor at hiding her true feelings, frowned at Hamel’s sly expression—then quickly softened her face upon noticing the Queen’s glance.

“I too… am honored, Count Hamel.”

“Oh dear, what shall I do? I should probably step aside.”

Hamel replied as if he’d been waiting for this.

“Please do, Your Majesty.”

The Queen glanced briefly at Hersia, then passed by Count Hamel, saying,

“Then, Count Hamel, I shall see you during the dance time.”

“Trust in me, Your Majesty.”

The moment the Queen left, Count Hamel immediately revealed his true nature.

“I thought Lady Hersia was younger, but you’re older than I imagined?”

Seeing Hamel’s blatantly sly smile, Hersia felt her mind go blank, though she wanted to retort.

“At your age, you’re rarely sold in the marriage market—so to avoid being sold cheaply, you’d best change your family name as soon as possible.”

Changing family name meant marrying as soon as possible.

Hersia suppressed her urge to flee immediately and lifted her teacup.

It was time to say what the Duchess had told her.

But the Duchess’s words now felt distant and hazy.

Trembling because she couldn’t speak against Count Hamel, who treated her like merchandise, the Duchess approached from afar, smiling coldly.

“Good day, Count Hamel.”

At the unwelcome arrival of the Duchess, Count Hamel felt bitterness in his mouth as he replied,

“Good day, Duchess.”

“You seem to be having difficulty being ‘good’—since you reek so strongly of foulness.”