Chapter 106
Dante’s expression twisted sharply as he listened to Callis’s report.
“Some people are so insane there’s not a medicine in the world that can fix them.”
At Dante’s cutting remark, Callis pressed his lips together, his upper lip stretching stiffly. If that one line alone brought out such a reaction, then he absolutely could not bring himself to admit that Anaista had even dared to call the Grand Duchess a ‘pathetic woman.’
Callis hesitated, stealing a cautious glance at Dante. After wavering for a moment, he asked tentatively.
“But… Your Grace, is it really true that you had no relationship with her whatsoever…?”
He regretted it instantly.
The moment the question left his lips, Dante’s murderous glare forced Callis to bow his head in silence.
That reaction made everything clear—every rumor people whispered about them was nonsense.
Those ridiculous tales about the two being each other’s first love, or that their marriage had been planned since childhood, or who supposedly rejected whom first… all of it.
Well, that was how rumors worked. And Anaista, who often acted as if she were pleading with Dante, never received a single denial from him, which only fanned the flames.
“She insisted she should meet Your Grace in person. She’s even suspicious about… certain things.”
“She was the same years ago. The Winfield family didn’t refuse to send her off to another marriage—they simply couldn’t.”
Dante clicked his tongue and pulled a cigar from his pocket, clenching it between his teeth with irritation.
“What? Can’t send her off? Then… does that mean Lady Anaista didn’t remain unmarried just because of you, Your Grace?”
Callis stared wide-eyed.
According to the rumors, after Dante supposedly rejected Anaista, she never received another marriage proposal. Explanations for this varied wildly.
Some said that since she once held marriage talks with a Grand Duke, her standards had risen too high and she found every other man beneath her.
But the more common rumor was that the Winfield family was intentionally picking a fight with the Grand Duke—or that noble families avoided her, fearing that any close tie with Anaista might sour their relationship with Dante.
“Look at her now. Does that woman strike you as normal?”
Dante let out a dry, derisive laugh. Callis answered honestly. He had only exchanged a few words with her, but even he could see she was irrationally fixated on Dante.
“The Winfields know she’s not in her right mind. And that damned old fox—he dares shove this mess back at me now?”
Grinding the cigar between his teeth without lighting it, Dante scowled as he jabbed it into the ashtray and stood up.
“Then… what do you intend to do? And if Lady Anaista runs into the Grand Duchess—she knows Her Grace, doesn’t she?”
“I’ll either send her back as fast as possible or ensure nothing happens while she’s here. It’ll be one of the two.”
Weariness shadowed Dante’s face as he frowned. As if he didn’t already have enough to infuriate him lately—now a deranged woman he thought he’d long shaken off had returned to claw at his nerves.
He buttoned his jacket and turned to leave, but paused briefly. His eyes drifted toward the bedroom.
“You stay here. She’s still asleep. If she wakes up, make sure she doesn’t leave.”
“Y… yes, sir.”
Compared to facing Anaista or Dante, this was far easier—but still, the current Grand Duchess…
Swallowing the words he dare not speak, Callis alternated glances between Dante and the bedroom, anxiety tightening his expression.
***
Soft carpet muffled Dante’s footsteps as he walked through the suite corridor. He stopped and checked the room number, his brows drawing together.
Of all places, they gave her this room.
It was the very suite Riena had stayed in several times before the restaurant opened. Dante pressed down a sigh of irritation and raised his hand.
Knock, knock.
“Yes, just a moment!”
A slightly coarse, overly bright voice answered. Likely the lady’s maid.
Footsteps approached the door. Dante adjusted his expression and smoothed out his features, wearing the polite smile expected of a nobleman.
“Oh! Your Grace the Grand Duke!”
The maid, expecting perhaps a staff member or Callis, widened her eyes in shock at the much taller figure standing before her. She quickly bowed.
Dante looked down at her, his voice slow and cool.
“I’m here to see Lady Anaista. Is she inside?”
“Oh, yes! But um… she’s still getting ready…”
A noblewoman preparing herself was not a place a gentleman should enter. The maid knew etiquette well—but this was not just any nobleman. It was the Grand Duke.
Should she invite him in? Ask him to wait? She hesitated frantically.
“I’ll come out.”
Anaista’s nasal voice floated from the powder room. The maid froze, then peeked up at Dante anxiously.
He gave a slight nod. Only then did she step aside.
Anaista soon emerged, footsteps light and refined, her face bright with a serene smile as she approached.
“Your Grace, it’s been so long.”
“Yes. It has, Lady Anaista.”
Her voice—unchanged, grating—scratched at his ears. Though he maintained a polite smile, Dante’s golden eyes swept over her with a chilling sharpness.
It really had been years. After marrying Riena, he hadn’t seen Anaista at any official event, party, or gathering.
One would think time had cooled her feelings—but that had been wishful thinking. Her blushing cheeks and shy excitement made irritation prickle beneath his skin.
Suppressing the impulse to grimace, Dante offered his arm.
“There’s a café in the lobby. Shall we?”
“Yes, Your Grace. I’d love to.”
Anaista smiled like a flower in full bloom. But the only one who looked at her fondly was her maid.
***
Riena slowly pushed herself upright. About ten minutes had passed since Dante left the suite.
She sat at the edge of the bed, exhaling weakly, her head hanging low. Dante had overlooked one thing.
‘If she wakes up, don’t let her leave.’
She hadn’t truly slept since arriving here. Only shallow dozes when he was away on work.
She opened her eyes and pressed a hand to her chest. Lately, discomfort had begun there—tight, constricting, as if something inside her were jammed.
The illness, which had shown its harshest symptoms only in the beginning before growing silent, no longer caused bloody coughing… but that didn’t change the truth.
How long has it been since I last took the medicine?
Riena counted with her fingers.
Since the day he suddenly appeared and dragged her here… it had been a week. Even spacing out the doses, she was due for another.
Not that she could retrieve them anyway.
Dazed, she rose slowly and walked out of the bedroom.
Click.
Callis, reading documents in the sitting room, jumped to his feet.
“Ah—You’re awake? His Grace just—”
“I know.”
Her cold voice cut him off immediately.
Riena was not someone who interrupted others. Callis and Lady Margaret both remembered her as gentle and polite.
This was different. Very different. Callis waited nervously.
He didn’t wait long.
Soon, Riena lifted her head and looked at him with her usual steady, honest gaze.
“May I… just step out briefly? I only need to go home for a moment. It won’t take long.”
“Ah…”
Callis hesitated, exhaling faintly. Riena’s eyes dimmed even further.
Of course. She hadn’t expected anything else. And pushing harder would only make things difficult for Callis.
“Why is he keeping me from leaving?”
“That… I’m not entirely sure. But… it’s for Your Ladyship’s safety—”
Nonsense.
A hollow breath escaped Riena’s lips.
“That’s impossible. Callis, you know it too. This isn’t normal.”
Her voice chilled. Callis pressed his mouth shut. She was right—he himself had thought the same until just before Dante left.
“…Callis, is the Behern palace physician still the same?”
“Pardon? Oh, the palace physician… you mean Mr. Benjamin?”
Riena nodded. Palace physicians rarely changed without serious cause.
But Callis shook his head.
“No, someone else has replaced him.”
“…Replaced? Since when?”
“I’m not certain, but… likely after Her Ladyship’s accident. Around that time.”
“And the reason?”
The question burst out before she could soften her tone.
“That wasn’t explained to me. His Grace ordered the change directly.”
“What about the former physician? Do you know where he went? Did he move to another noble household?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t believe he went to another noble house. Whether he left Behern entirely… I could check, if you’d like?”
Callis watched her with growing confusion. She kept pressing, as if unsettled by something deeper.
Riena hesitated, lowering her brows slightly. But soon she nodded.
“Yes, please. And… I have another request.”
“Of course! I’ll do what I can.”
“I want to see a friend. If I can’t leave… could you call her here instead?”
Surprise flickered across Callis’s face. Riena knew the request was unusual—especially now.
But she continued.
“Miss Sharon, the mayor’s daughter. We used to meet often. Since I’ve been gone, I’m sure she’s worried.”
Understanding dawned on Callis’s face.
“Oh, I’ll need His Grace’s permission, but—when he returns, I’ll ask! I’m sure he’ll allow something like that. Please don’t worry.”
“Thank you.”
Riena gave a faint smile. Then added one last thing.
“And about the former physician… please keep it from His Grace for now. I’ll tell him myself later.”
