Chapter 16

Agnes had always been an ordinary noblewoman, so her body was not particularly strong.

Because of that, she sometimes felt guilty, thinking Dylan took care of her unnecessarily. At the same time, she worried that this thoughtful man might someday decide to end their arrangement altogether.

That was why she wanted to ask him for advice. But Dylan’s expression turned faintly uncomfortable.

“I do not know.”

“What?”

Agnes blinked rapidly, startled by his unexpected reply.

Even in the short time she had known him, Dylan had proven to be a meticulous and fair man.

There was no way someone like him would fail to check on the condition of those who had helped him.

Then, as she thought further, a possibility crossed her mind.

‘Ah…’

The man before her was, after all, of royal blood.

“I have been feeding on death row inmates.”

Her small guess became reality in an instant.

His eyes, when they met hers, were emptier than ever before.

Strangely, Agnes thought that emptiness reflected his true emotions. He must have carried so many feelings he wanted to hide that he ended up showing none at all.

“In the capital, it was not difficult. But after moving to the northern territory, it became troublesome. To justify the arrangement, we claimed the executions of criminals would be handled in the north for the sake of public order. But when bodies began to go missing, people started to grow suspicious.”

Dylan’s voice was steady, his tone so composed that it sounded like he was reading from a report.

“So rumors spread that the Duke of Vasteron devoured humans, and before long, even the people of the territory began to believe it. Around that time, you appeared before me and proposed a deal.”

His voice was calm and dry, as if he were merely stating facts. Yet Agnes felt she was glimpsing something far deeper, something that belonged to his most guarded pain.

Born into the Imperial Family, Dylan would have been raised with perfect education, a strong sense of duty, and proper morals.

Someone like him could never be indifferent to a life spent tearing into human flesh for blood.

The prisoners he fed upon had likely been executed afterward, yet Dylan would have carried the weight of their deaths as his own guilt.

He must have known in his head that cause and effect did not align, but in his heart, there was no way he could feel at peace.

Agnes instinctively knew this was not a pain that could be soothed with simple sympathy.

It was a wound one would rather carve out of their existence altogether, something that could not be spoken of even to someone dear.

So she quietly lowered her head.

“I see. Thank you for telling me.”

Agnes chose to accept the truth as it was. Rather than offering hollow comfort, she wanted to show that knowing the truth would not change how she saw him.

Dylan studied her closely, as though searching desperately for any trace of insincerity.

But Agnes did not avert her gaze. Her golden eyes stayed fixed on him, steady and clear.

He did not entirely believe her. He already knew Agnes was not the kind of woman who revealed every thought so easily. After all, she had handled herself before the Emperor without showing fatigue or surprise.

Even so, her expression now, whether genuine or not, gave him a small sense of relief.

He smiled faintly, then finally brought up what had brought him here.

“Lady Everchen, if you write a letter to Noah, I can deliver it.”

Her perfect composure shattered instantly.

Agnes’s eyes and mouth widened in unison, and she raised a trembling hand to cover her lips.

She repeated his words as if unable to believe them.

“You can deliver a letter to Noah?”

“Yes, I can.”

“But Count Overhen would never allow it. Even if the letter somehow reached Noah, if he learned it was from me, he would surely scold him harshly.”

Her worry was justified. At the same time, that fear also served to steady her heart, keeping her from drowning in hope.

“Do not worry. Count Overhen’s household recently advertised for a tutor in etiquette, so I sent someone in. They are capable and have no visible connection to me. If you write the letter, they will show it to the boy and bring it back. If you are fine with such limited contact…”

“Of course that is fine! Just a moment, please! I already have letters written!”

The moment she heard her son would be safe, Agnes leapt to her feet in excitement.

She returned with a box from the bedside table, large enough that she had to hold it with both arms.

“I have been writing letters to Noah whenever I missed him, ever since I was still at the Everchen estate. I knew I could not send them, but there was so much I left unsaid when we parted. Not even a proper goodbye…”

It was the first time Dylan had seen her so animated.

She opened the box hurriedly, revealing dozens upon dozens of envelopes, neatly stacked and organized. It was almost hard to believe one person had written so many.

Her eyes sparkled as she looked between the box and Dylan.

Because of that look, Dylan chose his next words carefully. He did not want to crush that fragile hope, but…

“Unfortunately, I cannot deliver all of them.”

Agnes froze, then reached into the box, pulling out a few envelopes with visible reluctance.

“Then… maybe just these?”

“No. And even those are… rather thick.”

Each envelope looked so plump it was hard to tell how many pages were inside.

Dylan pressed his fingers to his temple, trying not to sigh. He did not want to sound as though he were scolding a mother who missed her child.

“It would be better if you wrote a new one. Keep it within two pages. Tell him about your situation and that I am helping you bring him back.”

Her face fell for a moment, but she quickly nodded.

“All right. Please wait a little. I will write it right now.”

She turned to fetch her pen and paper, but Dylan gently caught her by the arm.

Even though the gesture was sudden, her body did not flinch. His grasp was steady but not restraining, providing only a quiet sense of support.

When she looked up at him in surprise, he immediately released her and murmured, “Forgive me.”

“You said you were dizzy. Do not move too quickly.”

“Th-thank you…”

“And even if you write it now, I cannot send it right away. The lessons begin the morning after tomorrow, so if you give it to me by tomorrow evening, that will be enough.”

Agnes’s cheeks flushed. She pressed the back of her hand against them and laughed shyly.

“Yes, I was too hasty. Thank you so much for everything, Your Grace.”

Dylan looked at her quietly.

According to Gavelin, Agnes was not someone who often showed desire. She enjoyed good food and beautiful dresses, but she was simply grateful for what she received, never demanding more.

She had been the perfect example of the gentle, docile lady that high society prized.

Yet now, that same woman blushed like a girl, overwhelmed with joy.

For some reason, Dylan could not look at her directly. His gaze drifted away.

“It is too early for thanks. We have not reclaimed Noah yet.”

“That may be true, but still…”

Agnes placed her hand lightly on his arm, as if urging him to meet her eyes, to understand how deeply she meant it.

When he finally did, her golden eyes looked calmer than ever, pure and steady.

“When I said I wanted to bring Noah back, everyone laughed at me. Even the maids who pitied me offered only awkward comfort. You are the only one who believes in me. You have no idea how much that means.”

Dylan felt the same.

Among everyone who knew his curse, Agnes was the only one who did not fear him, nor treat him as a burden to be managed.

For the first time, he saw strength in her that outshone her fragility. He thought he might never be able to win against her.

“We will be good partners, you and I.”

Dylan smiled faintly and held out his hand.

Agnes let out a small laugh, covering her mouth before placing her hand in his.

It was the second handshake of her life.