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***

Cárcel masked his irritation with the grace of a nobleman, though Alicia's attempts to control Inés grated on him. When his face turned away from Alicia, a fleeting frown betrayed his thoughts, but the annoyance quickly drained from his face to reveal a helpless little grin the moment he caught Inés's amused gaze on him. She seemed unbothered by Alicia's possessive grasp of her arm. She simply nodded and smiled at him, reassuring that she was fine and that he was free to do whatever he wished since Oscar was gone.

Leonardo Helbeth-who had just come of age-approached, joining his father and Cárcel in conversation. The topic drifted naturally to the military, specifically the youngest Helbeth's aspirations of joining the navy. To men whose lives had been untouched by the crucible of war, such talk seemed to be fitting, as Cárcel would be leaving for the frontlines in just a few days.

Although Cárcel held little interest in the young man's prospects, he still answered their questions regarding the naval academy at El Ledequilla. All the while, he made sure to keep himself just a few steps away from Inés, ready to bring her into the conversation if needed.

Meanwhile, Inés slowly strolled down the hallway with Alicia still clinging to her arm. "Your mother had an impeccable eye for art," she observed. "How generous of her to pass on such treasures to you."

"She had no other children to spoil," Alicia responded with a smile. "Surely Duchess Valeztena showered you with gifts as well?"

"She did," Inés said, her tone unassuming, "but they would hardly fill the first level of a manor like this."

While Leonardo chattered on, Cárcel allowed his gaze to wander through the gallery. They had already walked through several halls, all connected by a long passageway. The paintings were hung densely on either side, leaving little room for the walls to breathe.

Custom dictated that a new mistress might reimagine the interior of the manor according to her preferences, but the sheer volume of the paintings made it difficult to keep them in a storage room. Moreover, the family dared not treat them as meaningless relics of the past, since the late marchioness's only daughter would be made empress one day. Cárcel suddenly understood why Marchioness Barca disliked the late marchioness-she probably felt like she was living under the thumb of a phantom, which explained why she usually dwelled in Calztela instead of this extravagant manor in Mendoza.

He narrowed his eyes at Alicia, dressed in a gown more lavish than the one she had worn for her marriage banquet-to an ignorant eye, she would seem like the mistress of the manor. The true masters of the house, the marquess and marchioness, stood to the side as if they were guests who had just arrived from Calztela; their son didn't interact with the guests with a demeanor appropriate for the heir of the family, though he was the one who had been managing the manor.

It was obvious that the marquess and marchioness cared a great deal about appeasing their niece's whims. After all, they had dedicated their manor in Mendoza-the center of political power-to a woman who had already passed away. In fact, they seemed to treat Alicia as a source of fear and unease.

"I do not believe our youngest will ever grow to match your height," Leonardo said with a laugh, drawing Cárcel's attention back to the conversation. "He cannot even manage to kick a ball without stumbling. It seems absurd to me that he fancies himself a prospective soldier."

Duke Helbeth glared at him. "Mind your tongue. He will grow taller and mature into a man of substance in time."

"I merely speak the truth," the young man countered with a shrug and turned to Cárcel. "Wouldn't you agree, Lieutenant? He is a complete fool who trips over nothing!"

"Civil servants serve in the military as well. I'm certain your brother will find a place for himself," Cárcel responded nonchalantly as he studied his surroundings. "Wars are no longer only a physical affair."

"But how will he graduate from the academy when he is so clumsy and uncoordinated?"

"It is possible to replace the courses with ones that are grounded in theory after completing basic training. After this, he will be eligible for commission, even if he may not receive a certificate of completion."

As the three of them walked through the final stretch of the gallery, Cárcel caught a cluster of guests entering from the staircase at the far end of the hallway. He followed the example Inés and Alicia had set, walking to the left of the hallway and coolly examining the paintings that adorned the walls. His pace slowed, then he stopped in front of a certain painting that aroused a strange feeling within his heart.

The painting depicted a small port in Sevilla, its scenery achingly familiar. He recognized it instantly -it was the very port immortalized in the painting that hung in the hallway outside the dining room of their residence in Calztela. The only difference was that it bore the stamp of another painter who had portrayed its sky through his own unique perspective.

A voice from the recesses of his memory pierced his head. "So you have come to kill me... just like Oscar's faithful dog." Inés Valenza's words echoed like a cold dagger slicing through the present. His breath caught as if a phantom hand had seized his throat.

He glanced further down the hallway, noting how the wall was lined with paintings that bore the same distinctive hand. Each piece seemed to recount a memory: Sevilla on a rainy day, the jewelry shop in El Tabeo, a small village nestled within a forest, a countryside chapel, a ring and a woman's veil shrouding a Bible, and an alley in a city that he did not recognize.

Cárcel was no connoisseur of art, but he was certain that these were the works of the same man who had created the expensive holy painting that he had commissioned and received from the archbishop of Bilbao... Emiliano. The realization gripped him with an unsettling clarity. Emiliano had decided to depict all the places he and Inés had encountered a long time ago throughout their short, tragic marriage.

He forced himself to become more objective as he recalled the holy painting. Initially, he had ordered it as a wedding gift for Oscar. After he met Emiliano, however, he had decided it would be given to his brother for his marriage instead. Of course, the painting was sitting in the vault of the castle in Esposa now that Miguel's engagement had fallen apart.

It seemed unlikely that Emiliano had managed to sell any other artworks aside from the holy painting. Before being bound to the archbishop of Bilbao, Inés had essentially controlled him as his sponsor through the art dealer. Perhaps the dealer had sold some of Emiliano's paintings, but there was no reason for him to label them as the works of a nameless painter when he knew just how costly they would become when Emiliano was done with his work in Bilbao. Above all else, Cárcel couldn't imagine that saintly painter trying to profit off anything that was related to Inés.

A shrill voice broke through his thoughts like a rock being thrown at a window. "Inés! Are you all right?"

He could feel blood rushing through his cold fingertips, and his entire body felt like it had been doused in scalding water. If she sees those paintings...

Alicia called for him frantically. "Cárcel! Something...something is wrong with Inés." Her kind eyes were full of concern.

It took an unbelievable amount of self-restraint for him to stop himself from pushing Alicia down the stairs. He glared at the picture hanging at the end of the hall, the one Inés was staring at-it was a woman sitting at the windowsill, facing away from the viewer, her black hair draped over one shoulder and creating a stark contrast against her dress that was made of light flax. A baby lay in a cradle right next to her.

He could hear Inés's voice from the distant past. "I'm sorry, Cárcel. This baby... his name is Luca."

He whispered a curse through his gritted teeth and forcibly suppressed his nausea. He managed to reach out and grab Inés's arm. There was an unmistakable smile in Alicia's eyes when she glanced over at them, and he felt an icy rush of deadly intent. At that moment, all he wanted was to snap Alicia's neck and bury her in the cold, hard ground along with her vile husband. However, he knew he had to look after Inés first.

His hands trembled. This was a situation that he had known he would encounter eventually, but he found himself feeling terrified and uncertain now that he was actually facing it.

"Inés," he whispered hoarsely.

Inés's face was drenched with tears as she smiled at him nonchalantly, but it was like she didn't even notice. "I felt a bit dizzy, that's all. I... I am fine now."

Cárcel struggled to keep his composure even as his heart shattered. He reached out to wrap an arm around her waist, fearing that she would collapse. However, she pushed him away with frantic determination.

He could barely hear her panting, as if she was having trouble getting air into her lungs. "I am all right, Cárcel. Some fresh air should help, I think..."

"Indeed. Perhaps you should step out onto the balcony," Alicia suggested as she reached out to gently hold Inés's shoulders, and Cárcel smacked them away without thinking.

The air froze. Thankfully, the end of the hallway was sparsely populated, but several guests still looked over at them in surprise, including Leonardo. Duke Helbeth moved quickly. Without acknowledging Cárcel's rudeness or the strange mirth in Alicia's eyes, he ordered his son to go to the adjoining hall and grab a glass of water for Inés. Then he made a point to look around the hallway very slowly, resulting in the other guests silently avoiding his eyes and walking away. Once everybody had dispersed, he glanced meaningfully at Cárcel and left the three of them alone.

A heavy silence settled over the hallway.

Alicia put another caring smile on her face and said, "I would be completely fine with you using the prayer room or my old bedroom. It is only a short trip through the staircase. I can also call a physician if you wish to lie down for a moment."

Inés forced herself to sound assertive as she gasped out, "N-no. Thank you, but... I wish to walk out... onto the balcony."

Nodding, Alicia began to lead them over to what Cárcel presumed was the balcony. Inés followed her, making sure to avoid putting her weight on him.

They walked back the way they had come until they reached the last hall they had passed through. There, they found a row of balconies that were obscured by curtains. Inés stumbled forward as soon as she saw the doors, ripping herself away from Cárcel, who hurriedly walked after her.

Just as Inés opened the door and slipped through, Alicia chuckled under her breath. When she spoke, her voice was so small that only he could hear it. "It seems like your dear wife recognized the paintings of her previous lover... I'm glad she appreciated my efforts. It was very hard to get my hands on them, you know."

The door shut softly, and Inés collapsed. Just before she hit the ground, Cárcel rushed forward to cradle her in his arms.

"A-away, Cárcel. Please," she gasped.

"Breathe," he whispered. "Try to take slow, deep breaths."

"I... am fine. Just... go away," she begged and desperately tried to push him away even as he held on. Her hands shoved at his shoulders and chest like she was fighting for her life.

Worried her frail arms would break, Cárcel grabbed them with both hands.

She gasped for breath as her head rolled weakly. He followed her down as her torso fell to the ground. "Please, Cárcel... I-I do not wish to be with you right now. Please, just let me..."

"Ines..."

"P-please, allow me to be alone... I-I am perfectly fine, I swear..."

Cárcel heard Emiliano's voice overlapping with Alicia's vile words. "Could you convey my message to her one day? It may grieve her to learn that I remember her and our dear Luca's death, and that you are aware of it as well, so it does not have to be anytime soon. But one day, when the time is right, and she confesses all of her pain to you..."

He instinctively knew that the moment that had seemed so far away was finally upon him. However, he only felt an overwhelming rush of dismay, since he would have to leave her in Mendoza to sail away for war in just a few days. To make matters even worse, she was trying to pull away instead of trusting him.

She continued to gasp and wheeze as she barely managed to say, "I do not... want you to see me like... this. I-I am not... in pain, I promise..."

"Please don't push me away, Inés. Please do not run away from me. Please..." His voice trembled as he hung his head in dismay. What do I have to do to keep you with me, Inés?

"I am not trying to run away," she whispered in a hoarse voice.

When he looked back up, he found himself faced with a pair of dark green eyes that resembled the color of wet moss. She almost looked desperate, as if she was calling on the last shred of strength she had left.

Then her pale lips parted to speak the three words that he had always wanted to hear.

"I do not want you to see me like this... because I love you."