Chapter 1. Like a Streetlamp’s Glow

Alexis shed his robe with a finality that signaled the end of his teasing.

Not even the works of renowned sculptors could compare to the perfection of his body.

Grace’s breath caught as her gaze swept over the scars of war etched into his skin.

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Back when she had first met him, she never could have imagined that things between them would turn so awry.

They had reunited as if by fate—yet he had no memory of their past together.

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“Spread your legs.”

Now, he indulged in her freely, yet any sincerity had long been lost.

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Swallowing her shame, Grace obeyed, parting her legs as he settled between them, his voice laced with vulgar amusement.

“So it turns out I married a little temptress.”

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“…….”

“A marriage between a devil and a temptress. What a perfectly fitting farce.”

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With those final words, Alexis took Grace as he pleased—whether she wanted it or not.

Whenever the urge struck him, he would claim her, pressing his lips to hers, molding their bodies together.

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Because they were husband and wife.

And for the first time, Grace realized just how lonely that word—marriage—could be.

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“I think I can finally sleep now.”

“…….”

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“Good night, Grace.”

Alexis spoke gentle words with merciless eyes, then turned away coldly—like a man who had merely completed a duty and was now leaving.

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Their marital chambers had plenty of rooms, meaning they were never required to share the same space. And so, without fail, after every night spent together, he would leave her behind. As if even this—staying—was something he refused to allow.

Grace ran her fingers over the sheets, still warm from their entanglement, biting down on her lower lip.

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At some point, tears welled in her eyes.

She wiped them away, forcing a small, hollow smile.

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But even as she smiled, her eyes continued to cry.

The man she once knew—had changed.

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No—at this point, she no longer knew what his true self was.

Had she ever truly known him?

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Perhaps this was the first time she was seeing him for who he really was.

All she had wanted was to turn back the heart of a husband who had only ever shown her coldness.

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But now, it felt as if she had become nothing more than a body to warm his bed each night.

As if, even after all this time, she had failed to claim even the smallest piece of his heart.

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Suddenly overwhelmed by loneliness, Grace clutched at the sheets, grasping onto the fading warmth he had left behind.

* * *

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Tap, tap, tap.

As dusk settled over the land, the wagon carrying Grace and her family rumbled noisily down the road.

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They had been traveling for hours, and her younger siblings had long since fallen asleep, exhausted from the journey.

Despite the throbbing nausea pounding at her temples, Grace carefully adjusted her posture, mindful not to wake the youngest child resting against her shoulder.

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How much farther?

Just as the thought crossed her mind, a sudden brightness illuminated the surroundings, prompting her to open the window in surprise.

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The streets were glowing—even in the dead of night.

It was only then that she fully realized—they had arrived in Ecklen, the imperial capital.

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Moments ago, the world outside had been so dark that she could hardly see a step ahead. But the instant they passed through the city gates, the scene changed entirely. The streets were awash in light, a stark contrast to the inky blackness beyond the walls.

And the reason was clear—the streetlamps that lined every road and alley.

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‘So this is Ecklen… It’s just as grand as they say.’

Mesmerized by the unfamiliar sight, Grace unconsciously parted her lips in awe.

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Having never once left her family’s territory since birth, the capital felt like an entirely different world.

Even just counting the streetlamps she could see from the window, there were more than ten—an unimaginable luxury in Helio, where electricity was scarce.

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Grace quietly gazed at the intricate carvings on the streetlamp.

Etched into the metal was the golden lily, the emblem of the Ecleon Empire, accompanied by the inscription:

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“For the Radiant Glory of Ecleon.”

Even at this late hour, the streets remained lively.

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Under the multicolored glow of countless lamps, bursts of laughter and the distant melodies of musical instruments filled the air.

The cobblestone roads were pristine, not a single crack or break in sight. Not even a stray piece of trash littered the walkways.

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The wagon, which had rattled and jolted over the rough, unpaved roads of the countryside, now rolled forward with perfect smoothness.

At a glance, it was evident—this was the heart of the Ecleon Empire, meticulously maintained in all its grandeur.

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‘Incredible…’

The sheer scale and refinement of it all made Grace feel small.

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Without thinking, she reached out and gently brushed back the hair of her younger sister, still fast asleep against her.

To be honest—she was afraid.

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Having lived her entire life in Helio, never once imagining she would leave, Ecklen felt nothing short of a den of devils.

If not for her father’s insistence, she would never have set foot in the capital.

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But there was no stopping him. There never had been.

Just then, her father broke the silence.

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“Isn’t it beautiful?”

Grace snapped out of her thoughts at her father’s words, turning to him with an excited expression.

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“Yes, it truly is. The city is so full of life! When I return to Helio, I should consider increasing the number of streetlamps as well.”

But her excitement was short-lived.

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The moment she mentioned Helio, Count Helio’s face darkened, his expression hardening instantly.

With a displeased tone, he said.

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“You’re still talking about that? I already told you—don’t even think about returning to Helio for the time being.”

“But… I’ll have to go back eventually, won’t I?”

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“No! That won’t happen. We will settle in the capital, once and for all.”

“Father…”

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“The real mistake was granting our noble family—a founding bloodline of this empire—some remote backwater as our territory in the first place. It’s time to correct that. We belong in high society. So put those foolish thoughts aside and focus on your role.”

“……”

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“Prepare yourself. The capital is not a place you can take lightly.”

“I don’t know… I’m not sure if this was the right choice. Leaving the estate to the vassals just because of Uncle’s words…”

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“Of course it was the right choice! From now on, we’ll manage the estate from here while living in the capital. So wipe that absentminded look off your face—tonight is the last night you get to indulge in it.”

With that, he folded his arms and leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes as if to signal that the conversation was over.

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Grace quietly studied her father’s face.

In just a year, he had grown noticeably thinner—proof of the struggles he had endured.

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For the past year, he had stayed in the capital with her uncle, renting a modest townhouse.

Her uncle, Frederick Helio, was the pride of their family and her father’s most cherished younger brother.

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And for good reason—he had been an exceptional student, earning top marks and even graduating from the Imperial Academy in the capital.

To her father, who had always dreamed of the capital, Frederick was nothing short of remarkable.

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So when Anthony—her younger brother—was accepted into the Academy, their father had been overjoyed beyond words.

In truth, this entire move to the capital was the result of Uncle Frederick’s persuasion.

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Grace couldn’t help but worry about how easily her father placed blind trust in his brother’s words.

But what was done was done.

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“Haa…”

She let out a soft sigh, her breath fogging up the glass of the carriage window.

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Beyond the blurred pane, the streetlamps flickered gently, their golden light resembling tiny fireflies.

As she stared at them, lost in thought, a long-forgotten face resurfaced in her mind.

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The platinum glow of the streetlamp reminded her of someone—a man with hair the same pale shade.

‘…I wonder if he’s still alive.’

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Three years ago, under her father’s orders, Grace had served as a medic in the war against the barbarians.

And there, in the depths of a collapsed trench—she had once cared for the sole survivor.

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Among all the patients she had treated on the battlefield, he remained the most vivid in her memory.

A man who had refused not only treatment but even to state his name—left abandoned, waiting for death.

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When everyone else had given up on him, recoiling in frustration, Grace alone had refused to turn away.

Unlike the others, he did not carry the stench of death.

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And though he had told her to leave him to die, his voice had sounded, strangely, like a silent scream for help.

So Grace had returned to him, day after day.

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She had patiently tended to him—even when he refused to speak, even when he ignored her entirely.

And then, one day, she had finally convinced him to let her wash away the dirt caking his body and hair.

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That was the moment she had gasped in shock.

His hair was the most brilliant platinum she had ever seen.

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Like the glow of a streetlamp.

Grace’s eyes refocused on the world outside the carriage.

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As her breath faded from the glass, the dazzling cityscape swallowed the glow of the streetlamps, burying them within the sea of light.

Just like he had disappeared overnight—without a trace.

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And as if that thought alone was enough to summon the past, Grace pushed his face from her mind.

Never once imagining that she would meet him again in this city.

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