Hudson, the Hertz family's place of exile, known as the beautiful tomb.
As Roze had said, no one who entered that place ever came out alive.
When the time came that they could no longer supply their blood, they were sent to Hudson.
On the surface, it was for convalescence, but in reality, it was nothing more than imprisonment, where even a simple walk wasn't allowed without supervision.
Everyone who was sent there spent the rest of their days confined, never stepping foot outside.
Lest the secrets of the Seir family be leaked.
In the past, they had purchased all the surrounding lands to prevent anyone from entering, and the staff working at the estate were forbidden from ever speaking with anyone outside.
A luxurious prison.
It was neither more nor less than that.
Unlike Roze, Lloyd didn't know much about Hudson.
Even though he was a member of the Hertz family, he had no reason to ever go there.
Though he was pretending to be Roze, he never intended to live as her forever, nor did he plan to send Roze to such a place, as their predecessors had done.
Thus, while he had learned about the villa during his studies of the family's history, he had subconsciously avoided acknowledging its existence.
'But why on earth would he take Dalia to such a place?'
Until now, all the Hertz women who had supplied their blood to the Seir duke had died in that place.
Branded as the duke's mistresses, they were unable to marry anyone else and were used until their deaths.
As Lloyd pondered why Clayton would choose that location as a travel destination, he recalled the estate's purpose and let out a brief sigh.
'Surely not.'
Was he planning to confine Dalia there?
As his thoughts came together, it felt as if his heart sank to the floor.
He felt dizzy, as though a ringing sound echoed in his ears.
Why hadn't he realized it at the time? He distinctly remembered feeling an inexplicable unease when he first heard the destination.
Like mist lingering on a lakeside, the unease had been unclear, yet he had done nothing to uncover its cause.
In fact, when he first heard about the destination, he had thought to look into it later.
He thought the Hertz family's history might hold the answer since the name seemed vaguely familiar.
But he had been so preoccupied with Dalia's parting words that he never followed through with his plan to investigate, and that was the problem.
"Damn it!"
Lloyd bit his lip in frustration at his own stupidity.
'If only I had looked into it as soon as I arrived here… or at least asked Roze about it…!'
A crushing sense of regret overwhelmed him.
Watching Lloyd's expression shift through a range of emotions, Roze murmured in a serious tone.
"But why would the Duke take the Duchess there? It's not a place one would choose as a travel destination… unless he found out that you're actually a man and decided to… oh!"
Roze, who had been muttering absentmindedly, was startled by her own words and quickly covered her mouth with both hands.
But it was already too late; Lloyd had heard her.
"What do you mean by that?"
Lloyd, who had been lost in regret over past mistakes, suddenly looked up and approached Roze, demanding an explanation.
"L-Lloyd, what I just said was…"
"What do you mean by that!"
Lloyd had never raised his voice at Roze in his entire life, but right now, he saw nothing but the need to understand her words.
Understanding the meaning of what Roze had said was his top priority.
In a voice colder than ice, he called her name again.
Although they had been together since birth, it was the first time Lloyd had pressed her this harshly.
Frightened, Roze began to stammer out excuses.
"T-this was all to protect us…!"
"Roze."
"He said if you found out the truth, he wouldn't spare you!"
"Roze!"
Lloyd shouted as if he could no longer hold back.
The butler, startled by the yelling, approached the two but remained silent, sensing the tense atmosphere.
Under Lloyd's relentless questioning, Roze, who had been hesitating, finally revealed the secret she had been hiding.
"…He found out. The Duke did."
"What did he find out?"
Lloyd's voice was rough as he pressed her for an answer.
There was a desperate hope in his tone, wishing it wasn't what he feared.
"Everything…"
"..."
"That you're not really Roze. That you were pretending to be me and giving him your blood… all of it… He found out everything."
"When exactly did…!"
Lloyd was about to ask when the Duke had found out but stopped himself.
The memory of the Duke visiting the estate on a day he was away came to mind.
Ah.
The moment the truth spilled out of Roze's lips, it felt as if someone had pushed him into an abyss.
Lloyd barely managed to steady himself as his legs threatened to give way, clutching Roze's shoulders for support.
"Why are you only telling me this now!"
"How was I supposed to tell you! The Duke said if I told you, he'd kill all of us!"
At Lloyd's furious voice, Roze, who had been holding back her emotions, finally burst into tears and shouted.
"You think Dalia was taken to Hudson because I didn't tell you?! Get a grip, Lloyd! If I had told you, the one taken there wouldn't have been her—it would've been me!"
Lloyd was at a loss for words at Roze's frustrated outburst and fell silent.
Because Roze wasn't wrong.
Right now, he just wanted to shift the blame onto Roze. He wanted to deny that it was his own foolishness that had put Dalia in danger.
The strength drained from his hands as he gripped Roze's shoulders, and he slowly stumbled back away from her.
"Lloyd…?"
After crying for a while, Roze finally noticed that something was off about Lloyd and called out to him.
However, he seemed to hear nothing, staring blankly into the void. It was then.
As if possessed, Lloyd suddenly started running toward the stables.
"I have to go.'
The only thought echoing in his mind was one thing.
He had to save Dalia.
Only he could save her.
With that thought, focus returned to Lloyd's eyes.
"Lloyd…!"
Roze called out desperately to Lloyd as he disappeared into the distance, but there was no response.
And just like that, the peace that had returned to the Hertz family for the first time in a long while came to an end.
* * *
While Dalia was enjoying her time with Gretel.
Clayton was smoking a cigar with Damon, discussing politics. It was a dull and rigid conversation.
Thinking he had repaid the courtesy of being offered a room, Clayton extinguished his cigar in the ashtray and was about to say his final farewell.
"May I ask about your travel plans? If your schedule isn't too busy, perhaps you could attend our village's Falling Blossoms Festival tomorrow…"
"Falling Blossoms Festival?"
Though he had made the suggestion with good intentions, Damon slightly regretted bringing up the festival in light of the Duke's cold demeanor.
Nevertheless, he continued.
"Yes, it's an annual traditional festival. It's a sort of fireworks display. Around this time of year, many newlyweds come to our territory just to see it."
Clayton, who had been half-listening to Damon's words, seemed slightly intrigued by the mention of newlyweds, and his demeanor softened a bit.
"Newlyweds come specifically for that festival? Why?"
"Because there's a legend that if lovers hold hands while the fireworks fall like flower petals in the night sky, they'll stay together forever."
It was a ridiculous tale, a common superstition used to entice people with a romantic notion.
"In truth, no woman can help but be tempted by such stories. Everyone knows these legends are just old fables, nothing more. But even knowing that, they still travel all the way out here—surely there's a reason, don't you think?"
Damon added that he, too, knew it was just a superstition but couldn't resist his wife's request to attend the festival together.
He explained that his wife still believed their happy life together was thanks to witnessing the falling blossoms.
Clayton, who had been silently listening to the viscount's words, murmured quietly.
"I'll think about it."
"Of course. Let me know if you decide, and I'll make the arrangements."
Clayton simply nodded in response.
Then, using fatigue as an excuse, he began walking back to his room.
As soon as he opened the door, something small darted out and bumped into his knee.
Clayton instinctively frowned and looked down.
He saw a young girl holding her forehead with both hands, likely from bumping it against his knee.
Clayton stared at her tear-filled eyes as she looked up at him.
It was the same little girl Dalia had been doting on earlier.