* * *
I turned my head with a smile.
A smile full of resentment—at least one that Klen would recognize for what it was.
But he too smiled back at me.
A cheerful smile, in contrast to mine. Inappropriate for the situation.
And yet, to an outsider, it must’ve looked like we were simply sharing a sweet moment together.
“…?”
As the conversation stretched on, someone began peeking timidly from behind Willoy.
I turned my gaze toward them.
A girl, hesitating as if unsure whether to step forward, slipped away to the side, then quickly ducked behind him again.
“Are you two not enjoying the festival?”
Willoy’s voice brought my attention back to the front.
That kind smile, which had never appeared when it was just me, felt unfamiliar.
He could make that kind of face?
“Shouldn’t you, Sir Willoy, be enjoying the festival instead of coming all the way out here?”
“Ah, yes.”
As if he’d only just remembered his reason for being here, he smiled softly.
But his expression and gestures as he glanced back were stiff and unnatural.
He might want to take acting lessons from Klen.
“I came to introduce my daughter to Sir Adrian.”
“…To me?”
He stepped aside slightly, and the girl behind him finally managed to take a step forward.
‘His daughter?’
Judging by Willoy’s age, she seemed quite young. Seventeen, perhaps?
“I am Madeline Berr. It is an honor to meet you, Lord Adrian. And… it’s been a while, Lord Klen.”
With a subtle lift of her dress—not extravagant but modest in design—she bent at the waist in an elegant motion.
Her brown hair, half-tied and flowing down to her waist, was secured with a large emerald-encrusted hairpin.
Her eyes, too, were a soft green that matched the gem.
Unlike her father, she had a warm presence that seemed to brighten the very air around her.
“It has been a while, Lady Madeline.”
The moment her eyes met Klen’s, her cheeks flushed.
She quickly turned her head away and fiddled nervously with her hair.
‘Hmm.’
Introducing his daughter was clearly just a pretense—his real intent was obviously to have the two meet.
Still, wasn’t this a bit too bold?
I’m standing right here, his official wife.
Madeline looked like she had something to say—her lips parted slightly, but she hesitated, opening and closing her mouth without forming words.
Willoy, meanwhile, smiled at her with unreserved affection, as though encouraging her.
If only he weren’t married to me, I might have looked on that gaze with warmth.
Klen, who had been silently waiting, was the one to break the silence.
“…Since you’re here, why not enjoy the festival?”
He extended his hand and gestured in the other direction.
Though his expression was light and gentle, his words unmistakably carried the intent to send them away.
Madeline might not have caught it, but Willoy surely did.
He took a subtle step back.
Hesitating and watching him carefully, the girl eventually followed suit.
“Oh dear, it seems we’ve interrupted your rest. We’ll take our leave now.”
Willoy backed off surprisingly easily.
Was his goal really just to introduce his daughter?
To me, of all people?
He seemed content just with the fact that she and Klen exchanged a brief glance.
After offering a composed farewell and signaling to his daughter, he turned and walked off toward the noisy crowd in the distance.
But Madeline didn’t get far—after only a few steps, she stopped in place.
Then, turning back, she faced us with a blush still lingering on her face, but her eyes now filled with determined resolve.
“I—I’ll see you at the next ball!”
And without waiting for a reply, she lifted her skirt and ran off.
‘The ball…?’
Was there a ball coming up?
Or was she referring to some future one?
The way she said it… it felt like she was hoping we’d go together.
Not just a casual meeting.
No—dancing with others at a ball isn’t unusual.
It happens all the time in social circles.
It could be just that.
But wasn’t that more like asking to be her partner?
Not just for a brief encounter, but for the entire event?
‘And… she said that right in front of me?’
Was that supposed to be some kind of declaration of war?
Or am I just imagining things?
I thought she was the shy type—but it seems she takes after her father in boldness too.
“I have no intention of attending any balls.”
“…!”
Startled, I turned my head to see Klen, his expression cool and disinterested.
He hadn’t said it to comfort me after that unexpected ambush.
He just… really looked annoyed.
Right. There’s no way this man would agree to attend a ball so easily.
“I can’t be the kind of husband who indulges in pleasure while his wife is unwell.”
“I may not be able to dance at a ball, but who would dare call someone who won the hunting competition weak?”
That was exactly one of the issues I’d been mulling over.
I’d pretended to be frail to avoid being dragged around, but now I couldn’t even go where I wanted.
And just when things were going well, I had to go and win the hunting tournament.
Now the situation had become muddled.
Should I stop pretending?
But if I did, even more trouble would follow—I could see it coming a mile away.
“You should be careful. Chronic illnesses… they tend to strike when least expected, don’t they?”
“…”
His words sounded like concern… but they also seemed like a warning—or perhaps a solution to my dilemma.
“Ah~! So this is where you were!”
“We’ve brought some fine wine~”
“And some perfectly grilled meat, my lady!”
Maybe it was because Willoy had seen us, but others soon followed.
The knights who had gathered around us yesterday came over, cheerfully shouting.
I hadn’t expected to completely avoid the noise, but I hadn’t thought they’d find us this quickly either.
The knights laid out food and drink in front of us, chattering away with stories I could barely follow.
A faint, bitter smile formed on Klen’s lips as he faced them.
Still, he cut the meat into manageable pieces and placed them on my plate, refilled my glass when it was empty, and wrapped his arm around my shoulder to keep me warm.
It had become such a natural habit.
The knights teased him for it, and at times ignored it altogether, pretending not to see.
I leaned lightly against Klen’s shoulder, sometimes laughing at their stories, half listening.
And so, the festival I thought had nothing to do with me… bustled on right by my side.
* * *
