Iris gazed into Cedric’s crimson eyes, lost in thought.
“How did he find out?”
Of course, the Cedric from before her regression had known.
But this time… she hadn’t spoken a word.
“It’s not even the season for spirit peaches...”
She had intended to tell Hanna once the time came.
“Spirit peaches, you say? Now that I think about it, you did warn Chris not to bring any, didn’t you?”
But wait a moment—
“Didn’t you used to like spirit peaches, my lord?”
“Hm. Seems my taste has shifted.”
“You’re quite peculiar sometimes, Master. Alright, I’ll make note of it.”
Hanna swayed her hips as she headed toward the kitchen, visibly looking forward to the evening meal.
With the delivery nearly complete, it was now just Iris and Cedric remaining in the grand hall.
“Is it because of me?”
Or perhaps his taste had truly changed.
After a moment of deliberation, Iris forced a calm smile and spoke lightly.
“If you enjoy them, you can eat them. I won’t mind.”
“I don’t enjoy them that much. Besides, eating something alone in front of someone who cannot partake… would be lacking in courtesy, don’t you think?”
Iris stared blankly at Cedric before slowly opening her mouth.
“When did you… find out?”
“Ah—around our third shared meal?”
Both now and in the past—
No one had noticed. No one had tried.
Everyone acted as if Iris’s preferences and values weren’t worth their attention.
Faced with that unfamiliar sentiment, Iris struggled to manage her expression.
She hadn’t imagined that he had been looking out for her from such an early point.
“How did you know? I-I never told anyone...”
Cedric’s reply came calm and simple, his eyes resting gently on hers.
“I watch you all the time, my wife.”
He always had his eyes on her. And through that, he had come to understand.
This radiant woman, who had accepted an unwanted marriage, continued to smile—clear and bright—even through her suffering.
Time and again, she chose to sacrifice herself for others as if it were the most natural thing to do.
And so Cedric had come to notice her quiet acts of care—so that he could return them, with even greater affection.
“Does this dessert contain spirit peach?”
“Eh? N-No?”
“Ah. I see. Apologies, the color tricked me. Carry on.”
Even unconsciously, Iris avoided desserts that might contain spirit peach.
She never so much as tasted them.
“Isn’t it more strange
not
to know?”
Cedric’s words rang with sincerity. He had discerned something her own kin hadn’t noticed in a lifetime—all within just three meals.
A deep thud echoed within Iris’s heart.
“...So this is what it feels like.”
To be noticed.
To be important to someone.
To be cherished.
Cedric’s warmth enveloped her, lifting her heart skyward, fluttering all the way to her toes.
“He truly is... such a good man.”
And yet, at the same time, the habitual self-loathing clawed its way back to her.
Despite his devotion, she had doubted he’d believe her if she spoke the truth.
She’d tried to shoulder it all alone again.
“What makes this any different?”
What set her apart from her past self?
That thought halted the tremble in her body.
Iris raised her head.
There he was—Cedric, quietly watching over her.
Even if the heavens crumbled, he was the one person she wished to protect.
“Let them call me presumptuous—I don’t care.”
Even if he couldn’t understand her love, it was fine.
Even if he came to hate her—she’d endure.
“I want to tell him the truth.”
Because only by doing so could she save him.
That’s why she was given this chance—to return.
Iris’s lips gently curved into a smile.
The smile that had felt so difficult just moments ago now bloomed easily, once she steeled her resolve.
“...Cedric.”
Iris rarely called him by name.
But between the two of them, using each other’s name had come to mean:
Please, listen to me.
She couldn’t see it herself—but her eyes were filled with sorrow so deep, it pained Cedric to witness.
“Yes, Iris,” he answered softly.
Taking a single step forward, Iris reached out and held his hand. It was warm.
“May I… have your time this evening?”
They were husband and wife—spending the evening together should have been natural.
And yet the question felt oddly formal.
Still, Cedric simply nodded.
Because he knew—it was the best answer he could give her now.
And so, after making that promise with Cedric, Iris busied herself.
“It really is you, Zelda...”
She was not just competent—she was
too
competent.
Even beyond the items Iris had requested, she had enclosed other tools that might prove useful.
As for the original list, it seemed she had scoured the entire southern region, sending more than enough.
“Duchess Consort, please excuse the intrusion.”
“Ah, come in.”
The ones entering through the door were the twin magi-technicians sent by Zeldaya.
Their faces seemed oddly familiar—clearly scholars of some renown.
They gave a brief bow to Iris before presenting their documents.
“These are the
Hellis
flowers and related data you requested, my lady.”
The Hellis flower—a bloom known to bring death.
Just as rubberwood trees grew in demon-infested regions of the North, the white Hellis flowers bloomed near mana crystal mines in the western deserts.
People often used the flower’s presence to locate such mana mines.
If it only served as a marker, it might have been hailed as a flower of fortune.
But the flower’s unique internal mana structure emitted cold energy, causing mild frostbite upon contact.
In other words, the hotter the surrounding environment, the colder the flower grew—a paradox ill-suited to the desert’s fiery nature.
Unfortunately, once picked or dried, the flower lost its chill, rendering it useless for other applications.
The magi-technician held up a carefully dried Hellis specimen.
“When we first heard you were searching for Hellis flowers, we were surprised.”
“After all, knowledge of Hellis doesn’t travel far beyond the West.”
“I had a brief opportunity to study it at the Academy,” Iris replied.
Back in her academy days, Iris had studied many provinces across the Empire.
I wanted to be someone who could help others, wherever I was needed.
In the process, she had learned about the Hellis flower.
“I read that the flower’s chill is a result of the interaction between the environment and its internal mana circuit.”
“Ah, yes! You must be referring to that old thesis.”
“That’s the one. It made me wonder—what if…”
There had been a hypothesis: if the Hellis flower were to grow in a cold region, it might emit heat instead of cold.
It would’ve been better if someone had confirmed it back then.
At present, the leading subject of magi-engineering research was mana crystals.
So the Hellis flower, a mere desert plant, had been largely ignored.
Could my theory really be correct…?
The idea Iris had proposed to Zeldaya was simple:
If the Hellis flower emitted cold due to desert heat, then in the North it might instead emit warmth.
And one more thing…
If its mana structure resembled that of rubberwood, perhaps the two could merge.
After all, mana crystals with similar circuits are known to fuse and share properties.
Indeed, mana stones with aligned circuits often merged, creating hybrid effects.
With a pounding heart, Iris opened the report:
[Result: Mana Structure Matched.]
Her sky-blue eyes widened like a startled rabbit.
“Is this real?”
As she looked at the engineers with large, astonished eyes, they responded with excited voices.
“Exactly as you hypothesized, Duchess. The two plants share a compatible mana structure.”
“So… according to theory, then…?”
“Yes, there’s a very high probability they will fuse into a heat-producing rubber material.”
A once-useless flower, known only for marking mana crystal sites—the Hellis—had just revealed its true potential.
“Good. Then we can begin at once.”
“However… there is a problem.”
Their enthusiasm cooled. Their faces turned solemn, as if bracing for reality.
“This outcome is still theoretical, based solely on the assumption that Hellis will emit heat in the cold.”
“No one knows what will actually happen when the flower blooms in northern soil.”
“I see…”
Iris looked at the preserved flower, dried safely and neatly.
It looks like a gemstone.
Though it bore the stigma of a flower that could burn people alive, the petals gleamed like crystals, hardened by mana.
“How long does it usually take for a Hellis flower to bloom?”
“Even with stimulants, the time frame is unpredictable.”
“This would be the first time it's being grown in the North, after all.”
Iris tried to estimate.
The flower must bloom before I make the pact with Oliver.
Only then could she deal with Oliver, the Emperor’s hound, without risk.
That left, at most, a week to spare.
Especially now, with Aurora making a flashy appearance today, word would surely reach Oliver Hansen.
I mustn’t run.
If she showed even a hint of suspicion, who knew what he might report to the Emperor?
With limited information available, her best option was to deal with him here and now.
“What conditions will help the Hellis bloom as quickly as possible?”
“An area where mana pools frequently would be ideal. Places where spirit beasts appear often would be best, but…”
“But such places are difficult to manage.”
“Understood.”
Iris shifted her gaze to the seeds the engineers had brought.
Getting the flower to bloom wasn’t the end goal.
The real test was whether its fusion with northern rubberwood would produce the material she expected.
“Don’t worry. Just proceed with the experiment as quickly as possible.”
Iris could feel her heart pounding with unease.
She had to keep Oliver tied down while the flower bloomed.
Can I really do this?
She had little confidence in her abilities. And yet, there was one thing she could count on—
My reputation.
In the Empire, Iris was known as the useless, invisible daughter of House Valentine.
From her countless encounters with nobles and merchants, Iris had realized just how firmly those rumors had taken root.
"The second daughter of House Valentine? Might as well not exist."
"Even her own father cast her aside. No need to curry favor with someone like that."
The rumors had embedded themselves deeper than she had expected.
At the time, it had been difficult just to push through the shadows of such gossip and assert herself.
But in hindsight… perhaps I was lucky.
Had Iris been a famed prodigy like Orchid, or a beloved darling like Liliana,
it might’ve been impossible to deceive and trap someone like Oliver.