* * *

I averted my gaze to hide my incredulous expression.

I couldn’t even form a reply anymore.

Her audacity had left me speechless.

Why hasn’t he come yet?

Surely the Duke orchestrated this, leaving me alone with her.

Otherwise, Viola, who claimed she was just stepping out to check on the Duke, wouldn’t have stayed away from the drawing room for this long.

“There’s no way the Duke, a healthy man, would ignore your body. Tell him to buy expensive clothes and dresses for your mother.”

“M-Mother!”

“Also, if you’re assigned a budget, make sure to allocate some for my dresses and jewelry.”

I stared at her in disbelief.

What budget?

I hadn’t received a single penny from either the Viscount family or the Duke’s household.

Everything I needed was provided, but there wasn’t even a trinket for the Duchess.

My wedding ring disappeared after the ceremony, and I hadn’t seen it since.

Even though Zeroth claimed to cherish and love me, he hadn’t once bought me a proper piece of jewelry.

How could I not prepare an escape when all his sweet words felt so hollow?

“…I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?”

“I… I don’t think I have a budget.”

The Viscountess’s eyes widened.

“Even though they tailored such fine clothes for you, they didn’t give you a budget? What about household finances?”

“There’s nothing like that…”

Tsk.

She clicked her tongue, finally confirming her suspicions.

Her son was merely a placeholder, a facade to avoid real obligations.

No wonder it took four months after the wedding to bring him out publicly.

They must have spent the time teaching him etiquette and social norms.

At least they were willing to give him some exposure.

Maybe there was hope yet.

After arriving at her conclusion, the Viscountess spoke again.

“If you ever get divorced, be ready to come back home. Who else would marry an Omega who’s been discarded by his Alpha?”

Her words made my eyes widen.

Who’s going where?

With Zeroth likely watching us from somewhere, I couldn’t respond recklessly.

I could only pray he’d make an appearance soon.

“D-divorce?”

“Yes, there’s no way the Duke will ever have children with someone like you.”

“But—”

“But nothing. If you get divorced, of course, you’ll return to your family. Who else but your family loves you enough to find you a good husband again?”

Her eyes gleamed with greed.

As long as Sylvian carried the title of former Duchess, wealthy Alphas envious of the Duke would compete to have him.

The Viscountess would sell him again to the highest bidder.

Mother.

The Viscountess glanced into her son’s tear-filled eyes, momentarily reminded of a long-forgotten past.

But those memories were as distant as a dream.

“Keep dreaming,” Sylvian thought bitterly.

Sylvian suppressed the surge of emotion as he looked at his mother.

Once again, it became clear—he had never truly been their child.

If he were truly precious to them, they wouldn’t treat him this way.

The fact that they were considering selling him off to someone else again was proof enough.

All affection he might have had for them vanished entirely.

This was why he had no choice but to run away from both Zeroth and the Nertian Viscount family.

“Do you think the Duke will really divorce me?”

“Of course he will. Don’t hold on to such foolish hopes.”

The Viscountess scoffed at her son’s question, her face filled with derision.

It was clear she had never taught him his place.

How could the Duke possibly favor someone like him?

“That’s why, while you’re still in the Duke’s household, you should diligently send money back to the Viscount family. It’s all for your sake.”

“But I really don’t have any money to give…”

“Must I teach you even that?!”

“Ugh…”

Smack.

She couldn’t get her son to understand without striking him, so her hand reflexively rose again.

This time, she slapped his arm rather than his face, as the redness on his cheek from the earlier slap caught her attention.

“You’re absolutely useless, aren’t you?! You can’t do a single thing on your own!”

While the Viscountess fumed, Sylvian stood silently, wondering how long he had to endure this.

Why weren’t they coming up?

He had expected either Viola or the Duke to return by now, but the silence was disconcerting.

“What did I tell you to do?”

“Sniff… ask… ask the Duke for money—”

Smack.

This time, the slap landed in the same spot as before, causing Sylvian to stagger.

“If you say it that directly, won’t it be obvious?!”

“…I should ask for the budget allocated to me.”

“And?”

“I should say I want to use it to help my family.”

A tear slipped down his cheek without him even needing to fake it.

His body, conditioned by years of habit, produced tears naturally.

Sylvian, eyes blurred, keenly listened for any sign of movement outside the door.

“You can’t say it like that!”

Bang!

“What is going on here? Why is my wife crying?”

He’s here.

Sylvian flinched at the Duke’s low voice and hastily wiped his tears with the back of his hand.

He didn’t have time to hide the marks from being struck before Zeroth strode toward him.

The Duke moved swiftly, lifting Sylvian’s chin and examining the red imprint on his cheek.

“Did you dare lay a hand on my wife?”

“It’s a misunderstanding!”

The Viscountess stammered, trembling under the Duke’s furious gaze.

She had struck her son without thinking, but it wasn’t hard enough to leave a visible mark—or so she thought.

Now, faced with his reddened cheek, her confidence faltered.

“It’s just a slight misunderstanding. Surely, I wouldn’t strike the Duchess.”

“Then why is his face red?”

“Perhaps it’s your imagination, Your Grace. The room is quite warm, after all…”

It was a pitiful excuse.

Sylvian, held by Zeroth’s hand, couldn’t even lower his gaze, stuck between compliance and helplessness.

The Duke’s eyes searched his, silently demanding the truth. Sylvian trembled, unsure how to respond.

“And what were you teaching him?” the Duke asked sharply.

“Just a few responsibilities of a proper duchess…”

Zeroth stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“Responsibilities, you say. And what might those be?”

Sylvian darted a glance at the Viscountess, who subtly shook her head in warning.

Yet both the Duke and Viola, who had entered behind him, caught the gesture.

“Everyone, leave,” the Duke ordered coldly.

“Your Grace—”

“Viscountess, that includes you. Since you claim to have taught my wife his duties, I’ll confirm them directly.”

Why me?

The Viscountess hadn’t expected the Duke to turn his ire toward Sylvian.

She cast a desperate look at her son, but he could only stare back helplessly.

Viola and the Viscountess exited reluctantly, leaving Sylvian alone with Zeroth.

“My dear.”

“Z-Zeroth…”

The Duke’s gentle touch brushed against Sylvian’s cheek, and tears began to spill anew.

“Your cheek is bright red. Does it hurt?”

Strangely, Sylvian hadn’t felt the pain.

If anything, he had braced himself for the slap.

It likely hadn’t even left a scratch.

So why does my heart hurt this much?

“I’m fine.”

“Are you? I’ve never struck you, not even once.”

Is that why he’s upset? Because someone else dared to do what he wouldn’t? A bitter smile tugged at Sylvian’s lips.

“What did she say the role of the duchess entailed?” Zeroth pressed.

Sylvian hesitated. Could he really tell the truth?

“You can tell me,” Zeroth encouraged.

“If it’s something the Viscountess taught, it must be correct.”

“…She said I should secure the household budget.”

“Did she now?” Zeroth’s tone held faint amus*ment. “What else?”

“She said I should use that money to support my family. That I shouldn’t abandon them, even after marrying into another household.”

Sylvian’s nervous tongue flicked over his lips.

He couldn’t meet Zeroth’s piercing gaze as he recounted her words.

Yet the Duke, ever composed, patted his back soothingly.

“The Viscountess dares to say such things within the Duke’s household?” Zeroth murmured, though his expression gave nothing away.

Sylvian’s chest tightened.

Surely, there was a reason Zeroth had brought him to meet the Viscountess today.

“Is that all?” Zeroth prompted.

“…I…”

Sylvian trailed off, unsure whether he should reveal more.

Sylvian buried his face in Zeroth’s chest, biting his lips as if he couldn’t answer the kind inquiry.

“It’s something very important.”

“Sylvian? Are you unable to say it? What did she tell you? Please, tell me—I’ll help you no matter what.”

Gently coaxed, Sylvian lifted his head to meet Zeroth’s gaze.

His green eyes were filled with fear.

“What did Lady Viscountess say?”

Only Zeroth should be able to make Sylvian cry.

His hands moved instinctively at the resigned look in Sylvian’s eyes.

Though no tears fell, the sorrow in his expression made Zeroth press a kiss to his face.

Even then, Sylvian remained silent.

“Tell me,” Zeroth pleaded.

“I will make sure no harm comes to you.”

Sylvian’s lips, tightly shut, slowly parted at the earnestness in Zeroth’s voice.

“She said… sniff… she said the Duke would divorce me.”

Sylvian’s despairing eyes locked on Zeroth’s, silently asking, ‘Will you really abandon me?’

For a moment, Zeroth was at a loss for words.

“Damn it.”

A lowlife like her.

He should have dealt with her earlier.

Instead, he’d let Sylvian hear such nonsense for a bit of amusement.

Even if that might someday become true, it was a far-off future—not reality now.

Zeroth shoved his conscience aside.

* * *