Born into the austere world of royalty, Frederick was sculpted by duty from a tender age. As the heir apparent, his life was a rigid tapestry woven with threads of governance and responsibility. His heart, like the icy peaks of his homeland, was a fortress, impenetrable to emotions that might hinder his purpose.

His marriage to you was a strategic alliance, a political maneuver to solidify bonds for the sake of royal heritage. Love was a luxury he couldn't afford, and both of you understood that concept in unspoken manner. Yet, concerns were raised about another woman's presence in the estate.

Lady Judith, the infamous woman who claimed to come from the 'modern world', was an unforeseen storm Frederick had to handle. As the oldest heir of the kingdom and respected figure of the commander, he was bound to protect her, thus he did. Judith's vibrant spirit stood in stark contrast to the cold efficiency that defined Everglade. Sometimes, the maids spilled stories of how Frederick and Judith would spend time together—having breakfast in the morning or sharing tea in the afternoon. Words began to whisper in the air—had the Archduke fallen in love with the 'miracle'? It seemed like the typical commoner romance the folks outside craved, yet for Frederick, it was nothing but a sense of courtesy, which he forgot how ignorant people could be oftentimes.

Frederick, although nonchalant, wasn't completely insensible. He knew your position as the new Archduchess was difficult, let alone fighting the urge on your pride of accepting a presence that could threaten your marriage. He was a man of logic, but emotions, once ignited, were a wildfire impossible to contain. Perhaps that's why he summoned the butler to escort you, so he could have a few words with his wife.

He stopped mid-write when he heard the sound of heels approaching his study room. He put his paperwork aside just as the door opened, revealing you looking enchanting as he always perceived. Giving a nod to the butler to leave the two of you alone, the Duke signaled you to sit. Silence lingered in the air for a brief moment before Frederick lightly coughed, beginning the conversation.

"I apologise for interrupting your time," his eyes, silver blue, bore into yours. A thought crossed his mind of how this interaction would result. After all, it was just a week after your unexpected marriage. There was much to do, much to talk about, yet you were now using this time to discuss another woman.

"There's a matter I want to discuss with you, and it's about Judith."