“I already know that you are a fake.”

The man’s body leaned over the wrinkled sheets. The woman’s eyes widened as she looked up at the man from where she sat on the bed, and then trembled violently as if gripped by despair. The man whispered in an even heavier and lower voice than before.

“Leila.”

“……!”

The man who whispered by her ear held her trembling body and knelt on one knee. Her upward gaze dropped as it followed his movement.

The man, sitting on the edge of the bed, took her fragilely trembling hand.

“H-How…”

Leila was so shocked that she couldn’t even form a proper sentence. Her stammering voice was faint and pitiful.

Even though she couldn’t finish a single sentence and kept faltering, the man simply looked at her with the same expression as before, as if he didn’t mind at all.

Leila.

As her name was not accompanied by a family name, it was easy to guess that her status was not noble. When she was very young, Leila had been abandoned by her parents under the excuse of poverty and was an orphan who nearly starved to death on the streets.

Next to that small child was a sibling even younger than her. Because she was the older sister, Leila struggled to survive with her younger sibling, but it wasn’t easy. Naturally, the only things children could do were beg and cry.

Perhaps out of pity, the heavens sent a benefactor to the children. Viscountess Delia took in the siblings without hesitation and gave them a warm haven.

Thus, after 20 years, Leila had grown into a skilled and experienced maid. It was thanks to starting maid work as soon as she entered the viscount’s household. Having gained experience earlier than anyone else, Leila was able to settle in without difficulty and even care for her sibling.

She thought everything was going well. She hoped that all the misfortunes meant for her—being abandoned by her parents and nearly dying on the streets—had come to an end, but fate was not so merciful.

“You will go to the House of Draven.”

The moment several carriages and a letter arrived from the imperial palace, everything changed.

“…Pardon? What do you mean…”

“Yuria has become the Grand Duke of Draven’s wife.”

The Grand Duke of Draven? Wasn’t he the madman and murderer known throughout the continent?

Though the Grand Duke had achieved many military accomplishments since his first campaign at the age of fifteen, rumors abounded that he was a demon soaked in blood from countless wars and killings.

He was even called a devil who had killed his first wife with his own hands.

“The name Leila no longer exists. From now on, you are Yuria Delia. No, your name is now Yuria Draven.”

The emperor’s command to take such a man as her husband was absolute. Of course, it wasn’t framed as a command but as a proposal to form a marital alliance with the imperial family, yet considering the betrothal gift had already been sent, it was all but decided.

Honestly, the viscountess had no choice but to choose this path. To save her daughter and herself, this was the best option. How could a mere viscount refuse the emperor’s command?

“You will leave in a fortnight. If you handle this well, you will be able to achieve what you’ve long desired.”

The coldly delivered order lodged itself in Leila’s heart and refused to come out. A new wound formed beside the scar of having been abandoned by her parents in an instant.

Perhaps because it was her second abandonment, it didn’t hurt as much. Just a twinge of bitterness pricked one corner of her heart. Leila deliberately ignored the feeling and nodded.

Perhaps the life taken in 20 years ago had never belonged to her in the first place.

No one could see that wound. The wound even Leila turned away from quickly split wide open and poured out blood tainted with sorrow. The only thing she could see was the viscountess pacing the room with an anxious expression.

‘Yes, he’s right. If we want to protect Yuria, this is the only way. Only by doing this can Yuria survive…”

Muttering incomprehensibly and pacing aimlessly, the viscountess looked so haggard it made one pity her. Leila bowed politely to her and stepped back after receiving the cruel order.

And a few days later, Leila, who had never once desired it, wore a dress and boarded a luxuriously adorned carriage.

After a full week of travel, the Grand Duke’s residence was so massive and grand that nothing could compare.

There wasn’t even time to rest from the fatigue accumulated during the journey. As soon as she arrived, the wedding proceeded at a breakneck pace and was now nearing its end with only the vow kiss remaining.

The hand lifting the delicate veil was large and rough. It was covered with scars from cuts, stabs, and even burn marks. Yet, contrary to its appearance, the movement was gentle, and soon the gray eyes visible behind the lifted veil instantly captured Leila’s gaze.

“…Leila.”

His gaze turned toward Leila once again. Regaining her senses, Leila responded to the voice calling her name. The place was no longer the wedding hall but a dim room, and the soft sensation beneath her hips revealed the current situation.

The man who had been watching Leila’s ever-changing expression from beginning to end slowly rose to his feet, bracing his knee.

“How I came to know that doesn’t matter to you.”

The man’s eyelids moved slowly. His gray eyes, glowing like the remnants of a fire that had flared brilliantly before leaving only ash, didn’t move for a while.

“What matters to you now is…”

The image of Leila, having taken off the wedding dress said to be crafted by dozens of artisans, was etched so vividly in the man’s mind it seemed indelible. Feeling the touch of the small, delicate hand in his, the man moved slowly.

Soon, their noses nearly touched, and their breaths could be felt against each other’s skin. At that moment, the man’s silence ended.

“What matters is that despite knowing this truth, you will still remain here as the Grand Duchess.”

Thump! Was this what it felt like for your heart to sink? Leila bit her lip, avoiding the gaze that seemed to peer beyond her eyes and into her thoughts. The instinctive fear grew stronger by the second and consumed her whole.

“I, I…”

Her fragile and pitiful voice echoed quietly through the spacious room. Aware of the fear contained within it, the man continued without hesitation. His scarred hand approached Leila’s side and gently stroked her trembling shoulder.

Her fair, round shoulders glistened alluringly in the faint moonlight seeping through the window. The man moved as delicately as handling shattered glass. His warm, large hand soon slid down and gripped her slender forearm.

“Ah!”

His hand was scorching hot and rough. The feel of the calloused palm was entirely unfamiliar. The moment Leila felt his touch, she stopped breathing and focused on every sensation skimming across her skin.

“All you have to do is stay by my side as Yuria Delia, just as you intended. If you do that… I will not ask anything more.”

The man’s voice was incredibly warm and gentle. His calm, flowing words were so ambiguous it was unclear whether they were a threat or advice. His strong, masculine features gave off a subtle pressure.

He was called a mad killer, yet when they first met, he had been so handsome it made her forget reality. Thick, bold eyebrows, slightly wrinkled eyes, languid eyelids, a prominent nose, and a rather thin, closed mouth.

Leila swallowed dryly as she gazed at him, his face half-illuminated by moonlight. His carelessly cut ash-gray hair brushed over his ears, looking oddly fitting.

Without even blinking, Leila stared into the man’s eyes. Her gaze, unknowingly drawn in, lingered near him for a long while.

“Yes, that’s enough.”

The man did not avoid her gaze. He stared quietly into Leila’s eyes. Rather than avoiding her direct gaze, he even furrowed his brows slightly and showed something like a smile. It was as if he were recalling the moment, just hours ago, when he lifted her veil and looked into her eyes for the first time.