INWY~85

Posted by Marinette, Released on November 5, 2025

Chapter 85

“Henry, I understand what you’re worried about,” Riena said quietly.

“And I know it’s because you care about me.”

She truly did understand his concern. But still—why did it leave such a bitter feeling behind?

“What if the Duke decides to deceive you, Riena? He’s not someone you can easily defend yourself against.”

“No, Henry. That won’t happen. The Duke and I… we’ve already ended things.”

“He’s the one who abandoned you in the first place. I may not know all the details, but—”

“Yes, Henry. You don’t know.”

Riena’s voice sank lower, steady but cold. Her calm, deliberate tone made Henry falter and close his mouth.

“He didn’t cast me aside. I was the one who asked for the divorce first.”

“But…!”

“…The Duke is my benefactor, Henry. Just like you are.”

Henry’s jaw tightened. His lips stiffened as he repeated her words.

“…Your benefactor.”

“Yes.”

Riena averted her gaze. What she’d said wasn’t a lie, yet it left her feeling strangely guilty, as if she had just betrayed him.

Under the table, Henry clenched his fist tightly.

“I see. I’m sorry, Riena. I overstepped.”

The air between them instantly turned heavy, like cold water poured over a flame. Silence fell.

Riena closed her eyes slowly and swallowed a sigh—not because the mood had turned dreary, but because she simply couldn’t understand Henry right now. His concern went beyond what could be called simple worry.

Had he perhaps sensed something in the Duke’s sudden appearance? Even so, this reaction felt excessive.

Realizing their silence had stretched too long, Riena spoke first.

“…Shall we go, Henry?”

There were things she still wanted to say and ways she wanted to help him, but… today didn’t feel like the right day. The unexpected argument had drained her completely.

Henry nodded slowly, forcing a faint smile.

“The sandwiches were delicious. Next time… may I treat you to something even better?”

“Of course. As long as it’s tastier than the sandwiches, I’ll gladly accept.”

Her lighthearted tone finally drew a small, genuine laugh from him.

“Then it’s a promise.”

At that word, Riena’s shoulders twitched before she could stop herself. Promise. He probably said it without meaning anything by it—but still.

She only gave a small nod and stood up first. Then she walked to his side and gently held out her hand, just as he had done for her so many times before.

Seeing the flicker of confusion cross Henry’s eyes, Riena hurried to explain.

“Um, Henry… just to be clear, this isn’t out of pity. Truly. I just… want you to feel a little more comfortable.”

“You don’t need to protect me to that extent. I’m really fine.”

This time, it was Riena’s turn to freeze. She hadn’t expected him to refuse—it caught her completely off guard.

Of course, she knew her action was overstepping, concern disguised as kindness. She understood that it might hurt his pride—but even so…

“Let’s go, Riena. I’ll walk you home.”

With an untroubled smile, Henry rose from his seat, limping slightly.

As they walked together, Riena thought to herself, I made a mistake.

After a while, they left the town of Florian and reached the path leading toward the coast.

“Where are you staying now?” Henry asked, even though he already knew the answer from the florist lady.

“Near the old church on the hill.”

Henry nodded. The church she mentioned was one every native of Florian would recognize—a small hill lined with quaint homes beside it.

“I see. You found a good place.”

“Yes. The streets are lovely, and the area has a charming feel to it… I like it there.”

Riena let out a soft laugh.

“What about you, Henry? You said you live alone.”

“I still live in the same house where my parents and I used to stay. Near the city center.”

“Oh, and your sister—she’s at boarding school, right? You must miss her.”

Henry’s lips curved with a warm smile.

“Yes. She’s young, but she’s always been mature for her age. Kind, too… though lately she’s been showing a bit of a rebellious streak.”

“Pfft—does she look like you?”

Henry shook his head with a mock-serious expression.

“That would be a disaster. Fortunately, she looks nothing like me. She’s quite pretty.”

“What’s so wrong with looking like you?”

Riena stopped near the top of the hill and tilted her head, looking down at him from where she stood slightly higher.

“I know you’re modest, but if you said that in front of someone else, they might call you a liar.”

Her tone was teasing, but the words weren’t untrue.

Henry was handsome. Even with a few rough edges left from his time on the battlefield, he still had a rugged charm. The sun-darkened skin, the short black hair—all of it suited him perfectly. His features were strong, his presence quietly masculine.

But what drew her the most were his eyes—those ocean-colored eyes that had once fascinated her endlessly.

Smiling faintly, Riena said, “They say people don’t usually realize these things about themselves. But Henry—you’re really handsome.”

At her sudden compliment, the tips of Henry’s ears turned red. Avoiding her gaze, he murmured, “You shouldn’t say things like that to just anyone.”

“It’s just a compliment. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Her tone was innocent, devoid of any hidden intent. Henry hesitated for a long moment, then spoke quietly.

“Do you… like this kind of face?”

“…What?”

Riena blinked, puzzled. What kind of question is that?

Henry turned toward her, their eyes meeting directly. His gaze was steady—almost too intense—and he seemed about to say more when—

Baaang—!

A car horn blared violently, ripping through the air.

After leaving the café, Dante had driven straight back to the resort with Calis, muttering curses under his breath the entire way.

As expected, his desk was stacked high with paperwork—half related to resort management, half to the upcoming military send-off ceremony.

Without even looking at them, Dante split the pile cleanly in half and slammed one portion down onto Calis’s desk.

“Y–Your Grace!?” Calis nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Do it.”

Dante’s response was short, sharp, and absolute.

He sat down and began working in silence. The only sounds in the office were the steady rustle of turning pages and the scratch of his pen flying across paper.

An hour passed. Then, without warning, Dante set down his pen and grabbed his jacket.

Calis, about to stop him, froze when he saw the towering stack of completed documents neatly moved to the right side of the desk.

Half the work had been his—and yet Dante had finished his entire share in barely an hour, fueled by sheer, obsessive focus.

He hadn’t even touched a cigar.

“Clear the annex greenhouse,” Dante ordered curtly as he left.

“…Yes, Your Grace.”

Without another word, he strode out of the resort and climbed into the car parked out front. He pressed down on the accelerator, hard.

He didn’t need to wonder where to go—he already knew.

Moments later, his car rolled to a stop on the hill where a shabby old church stood—the same hill where Riena lived.

Getting out, Dante looked up at her darkened house and clicked his tongue. She wasn’t home yet.

He could, of course, scour the whole city until he found her—but that would only make him look insane. So he leaned against the car and waited.

About thirty minutes later, he spotted her figure coming up the slope.