Evelyn, a modern woman, finds herself suddenly transmigrated into a novel where her peaceful life is turned upside down by a crazy Duke who happens to be her husband. Her new life is a maze of danger and betrayal, as the Duke is determined to kill h...
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As Ivan helped Natasha up, he asked, "Are you alright, Lady Natasha?" She thanked him but avoided his gaze, focusing instead on their clasped hands before hastily pulling away with a nervous laugh. Ivan, sensing her discomfort, inquired, "Is everything alright?" Unbeknownst to him, his wife's words were echoing in Natasha's mind, adding to her embarrassment. Unable to disclose Arya's words, she found herself at a loss for what to say. "Ah, let me help you with these," Natasha said as she began picking up the papers. Handing them to Ivan with a bow, she added, "Well then, have a nice day, Your Grace."
Ivan was perplexed by her demeanor. "What was all that about?" Lost in thought, he started walking and bumped into David. "Busy with papers, I see. How about a duel? You hardly come to the drill hall. Is Stefan on vacation?" Ivan sighed and replied, "Does that head of yours think anything other than a duel?" "Nope," David shamelessly answered. "But where's madam? I do not see her. We were about to have a duel," he pondered.
"Does she duel you often?" Squinting, Ivan asked. "Not often, but the other day we had one," David replied nonchalantly. "What happened to your hand?" David noticed the bandages and asked Ivan about his injury. "Just a cut," Ivan replied as if it meant nothing, and started walking past David. "Come by when you're free," David shouted after him.
When night fell, Ivan made his way to Arya's chamber. She was curled up in the soft bed, tears staining her cheeks, a painful sight for him. With gentle caution, he brushed away the traces of her cries and whispered, "I know my selfishness, but please stay."
As he rose to depart, he noticed the untouched food, his concern growing. "Foolish woman, are you trying to starve yourself?" Glancing back at her one last time, he wished her a soft "Goodnight, my love," before quietly exiting the room.
The next morning, Miya and some other servants entered Arya's room to attend to her needs. A table by the window was set with light food for two people. "Lady, could you lift your feet?" one servant asked while another was instructed to change the flowers in a vase. "This will feel comfortable while moving, madam," they assured Arya, who remained mostly silent, responding with only occasional murmurs.
Kneeling before her, Miya said, "I hope for everything to be as it was before, my lady." Arya glanced down at her but turned her face away without saying anything. Ivan then entered the room and asked, "Has the table been set?" "Yes, my lord," one of the servants replied. "Very well, you may leave now. I will have breakfast with my wife," he ordered. The servants soon departed, with Miya following them out.
Arya sat on the stool, watching Ivan as he approached. "You look beautiful, my dear," he said, kissing the back of her hand. Arya remained silent, observing his actions as he led her to the breakfast table.
"What do you think you're doing?" Her eyes devoid of emotion, she cast her gaze at him.
Smiling, he replied, "Having this delicate breakfast on this lovely morning with my beautiful wife."
