Dante was at his wit's end.
His mind was completely filled with thoughts of one person.
"I don't really welcome it either. Somehow, the royal family feels a bit unlucky..."
The warmth in the response, which showed no sign of surprise at the disdain for the royal family, was comforting.
"When hosting an enemy, you have to appear extremely happy and well-off. No matter what you do, I should look like I'm incredibly happy and living my best life. You know, something like that?"
A playful yet wise voice.
And then,
"And I’m genuinely very, very happy and I love the North. So I want to boast about how great this place is. Even though you forced me into this marriage, I truly adore my husband and the North. Just like this."
And then... and then...
Dante couldn't find the words to describe the feelings that followed.
He simply didn't realize how to label them.
One thing was certain: his heart raced fiercely. Heat rushed to his head, and for a moment, he felt breathless.
With a smile that seemed to add to it all, he felt his mind go hazy.
In fact, this wasn’t the first time.
Whenever he was with Serafina, he often felt strange emotions.
Dizzying and unfamiliar, slightly fearful yet not entirely unpleasant—a peculiar feeling.
How could this be happening?
The ridiculous part was that even amidst all this confusion, his mind was filled with Serafina's face.
All day long, her image followed him around like a shadow, making it impossible to focus on anything else.
He had even been caught daydreaming by Barhan.
"…Huh."
Get a grip, please.
He sighed in desperation and buried his face in his hands.
Unfortunately, that resolve proved futile.
* * *
The events of the day lingered into the night.
Perhaps because he had thought about Serafina all day, lying next to her made it difficult for him to fall asleep.
Tonight, Serafina beside him was particularly distracting.
"Umm..."
Even her trivial mumblings made him tense up.
The warmth radiating from her body, her breathing, her hair—
Everything felt overwhelmingly sensitive.
It was driving him insane.
He finally fell asleep just before dawn broke.
Only when the sky began to take on a blue hue could he finally manage to close his eyes.
And then he dreamed.
Mocking the chaos of the day, everything he feared poured out in his dream.
The day his brother died.
Yulia laughing at him and his brother.
Serafina turned away from him, coughing up blood.
Blood-soaked Serafina looked at him with tears of resentment streaming down her face.
"It’s your fault."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Not knowing what was wrong, Dante could only offer apologies.
He couldn’t dare approach her; he stood frozen in place as he continued to apologize vacantly for what felt like an eternity.
Soon after, Yulia appeared again from somewhere.
Cradling dying Serafina in her arms, she looked at him with a mocking smile plastered on her face.
"I told you so, Dante. You mustn't love anyone. I warned you not to even dream about it. So..."
So don’t even think about harboring useless emotions. Not for you or this woman.
Amidst the echoing voices that sounded like curses, Dante awoke in a cold sweat.
His heart raced for an entirely different reason now.
As he rolled his unfocused eyes around, he saw the still dark blue sky before him—no different from before he fell asleep.
He fumbled for the time.
He had barely slept for an hour.
It felt like an eternity had passed in that dream.
Wiping sweat from his forehead with one hand, Dante swallowed hard.
He consciously avoided looking at Serafina.
The image of her writhing in pain from his dream was too vivid.
He couldn’t bear facing her in reality now.
It was just a dream. Just a simple dream.
He tried to calm his trembling heart and finally checked on Serafina's condition.
"…Hah. Thank goodness."
Serafina lay peacefully with a serene expression on her face as she breathed rhythmically and regularly.
Her appearance was far removed from the painful figure he had seen in his dream.
As Dante deeply exhaled in relief, his face gradually turned cold and harden with worry.
Somehow this dream felt like a warning—about those unknown feelings he harbored within himself.
"Don’t even think about harboring useless emotions—for your sake and hers."
His mind had been filled with Yulia's cursed voice from the dream after thinking about Serafina all day long—like sunlight being suddenly swallowed by dark clouds.
In the end, Dante couldn’t fall back asleep again; it turned into a long night akin to a dreadful nightmare.
* * *
"I’ve been thinking... How about planting medicinal flowers in your fields, Duke?"
"That sounds good."
Huh? Did he really think it through before answering?
Dante's earnestness seemed doubtful as the response came back quickly without hesitation.
But what good would it do to doubt?
I shrugged my shoulders and walked alongside Dante as we headed out together.
Today we both wore decent clothes instead of work attire while inspecting the fields—planning how to decorate them for welcoming royalty.
However, something seemed off about Dante’s demeanor today.
His responses were shorter than usual; his expression seemed colder too. He answered promptly but only said agreeable things so much so that he appeared lifeless instead.
"Duke."
"Yes."
"Are you feeling unwell?"
At my question, Dante’s gaze flickered towards me briefly before returning to stare at the field intently again.
"No, I'm fine."
I suspected he wasn’t really fine but didn’t challenge him since he insisted otherwise.
Well then—perhaps he's just going through some emotional turmoil? People sometimes experience such phases even after they’ve grown up; it’s only natural for them to feel like they’re caught in a tornado during those times too.
"Then I'll let Markovs know too—I need to tell him what we’re planting so he can plan accordingly for decorating the garden."
"Okay."
"You can head inside first; there’s nothing much left for us to do in the fields today."
"Yes."
Dante answered like a parrot repeating short phrases before turning away and disappearing toward his office direction.
Wow! What broad shoulders!
I admired him happily before heading towards Markovs.
Dante’s emotional turmoil continued for quite some time—his responses remained short and expressionless throughout our interactions.
But despite that behavior, he still acted kindly as always—a true case of "what's inside doesn't match what's outside."
I began to understand why the original female lead often misunderstood Dante; treating someone like that would naturally lead to misinterpretations! Even I sometimes found myself wondering if I had actually done something wrong!
But no matter how much I thought about it—I hadn’t done anything wrong; clearly something was off with Dante instead!
Sigh...
I sincerely hoped this emotional turmoil would end before Flora arrived!
While worrying about Dante's state of mind, I began moving busily every day preparing for our guests' reception!
The first thing I focused on was ensuring that our garden—the first impression of our mansion—looked inviting!
Normally decorating gardens would be Flora's responsibility so I didn’t want to interfere but this time I couldn’t let it slide!
We couldn’t afford to show up looking shabby!
While our current garden wasn’t bad per se—it felt overly bleak somehow...
"You mentioned planting flowers in the empty fields?"
"Yeah! I'm planning on focusing on flowers that can also be used medicinally—ones that can withstand cold weather too—like lavender or chamomile."
"Oh! That sounds great! It might make the fields look even more lively!"
"What are you talking about? My fields look perfectly fine right now."
Markovs looked at me as if questioning my sincerity with an incredulous expression on his face.
I stood my ground confidently—our herbs were undeniably cute and lovely!
"...So how should we decorate the garden?"
"Why are you dodging? My fields are perfectly fine!"
"Hmm... If possible I'd suggest decorating it in a way that complements both lavender and chamomile."
"Who am I talking to right now?"
In the end, I lost that argument completely!
Well then—what does Markovs' approval even matter? After barely winning over myself mentally—I returned back discussing how we should decorate our garden enthusiastically once more!
"Haha! Honestly I didn’t expect you’d care about decorating not just your fields but also gardens! It truly makes me happy!"
"I have work to do; is that surprising?"
"Of course not! As a gardener myself—it’s been quite disappointing having so little work here!"
Markovs seemed thrilled having finally gotten some proper work after such a long time—his enthusiasm burning brightly as he vowed to showcase a splendid garden worthy of competing against those in the South or Capital!
"Alright then—I’ll allocate ample budget for this project so don’t worry about expenses—just focus on creating your list!"
"Yes Ma’am!"
Markovs responded energetically before dashing off excitedly with renewed vigor!
I couldn’t help but feel guilty for neglecting him lately...
But what could I do? Worrying about Markovs was Flora’s responsibility in future anyway!
I shrugged my shoulders again as I set off searching for my next task!
Let’s see... what’s left...?
Selecting meal menus... preparing desserts... checking if there are any repairs needed inside the mansion or furniture replacements...
Fortunately everything went smoothly along those lines!
"It’d be nice showing off Northern cuisine—but maybe we should also include some dishes from Capital too? What do you think Ena?"
"I think that's a good idea too! Northern food might be too stimulating for people from Capital."
"Hmm? But I didn’t find it particularly stimulating..."
"My lady tends to tone down flavors intentionally—you see sometimes ingredients themselves already have strong flavors which can make dishes taste salty."
During menu selection process—I discovered some touching truths previously unknown!
"Oh wow... that's touching!"
"It's only natural as head chef."
"Oh speaking of which—I have some herbs among those I've grown which tenderize meat while also eliminating unpleasant odors—should we give those a try?"
"...Wait—isn’t there one among them which tastes like herbal cookies?"
"Hmm... they probably won’t have any flavor at all? They might have some aroma though."
"In that case—I’ll test them out first before deciding! Thank you for your great suggestion!"
"Sure—but why are you stuttering?"
Before feeling touched could fade away—I ended up feeling uneasy instead...