"I have spent the last three months on the frontier, and I was told I must find the woman responsible for the miracle in our supply lines. The men are calling you the Lady of the Harvest," Cassian said.

Evelina turned, and for the first time in ten years, Ace saw her offer a smile that wasn’t tinged with anxiety or a plea for validation. It was a genuine expression that reached her eyes.

"Captain Cassian," she said, her voice smooth and confident, "I am glad the rations reached the border before the first frost. The logistics are tough but this is all worth it."

Cassian’s eyes widened, a flash of genuine intrigue crossing his face.

He stepped closer, encroaching on her personal space in a way that would have normally made the old Evelina flinch. Instead, this version of her held her ground, her chin tilted slightly upward.

Ace’s eyes narrowed at the small, barely noticeable exchange between the two people. He almost stepped forward to separate both the people from each other.

But in the last moment, he held himself back. Because such an action can only be committed by a petty and insesistive little prick. He was a man. He was the hero of the Empire. When had he ever act like a child by throwing meaningless tantrums?

"A Duchess who understands the weight of a supply chain?" Cassian laughed, it was a warm and infectious sound, "My Lady, you are a rare treasure in a capital filled with people who think bread simply appears on their plates by magic."

He reached for her hand. It was a standard greeting, yet as his fingers closed around hers, he didn’t merely brush his lips against her knuckles.

He bowed low, his gaze locked onto hers, and let the kiss linger for a heartbeat too long.

It was an unmistakable gesture of admiration; perhaps even a challenge.

Ace gritted his teeth and shifted his attention to the Colonel speaking to him nearby.

Evelina didn’t pull away. In fact, she seemed to lean into the conversation, "I was reading your reports on the light cavalry’s maneuverability in the mudflats, Captain. I’ve been considering a new horseshoe design that might reduce the strain on the fetlocks during the rainy season. Tell me, what is the current failure rate of the standard Imperial iron?"

Ace, standing twenty feet away, stopped mid-sentence while speaking to the Colonel.

He watched as Cassian’s face lit up with excitement.

He had known Cassian for long and in certain things, they held the same ideologies.

Ace knew that the matter of new horseshoe design and certain things would interest both him and Cassian the same.

But... his chest was burning in a fire he could not put out.

Cassian and Evelina began to pace toward a side table.

Evelina gesturing with her fan as she discussed cavalry logistics as if she was a part of the warzone.

She was laughing so genuinely at a joke Cassian made about a stubborn mule in the third division.

Ace felt the sharp heat climb up the back of his neck.

It was an foreign sensation which pierced through his chest.

He had spent years wishing she would stop talking to him, yet seeing her talk to another man with such effortless intimacy felt like a blow.

Evelina wasn’t even doing anything that crossed any line but just the sight of her with another man suffocated Ace.

The music seemed to grow louder and the room was hotter.

Ace barely heard the Colonel asking him about the spring offensive.

His entire world had narrowed down to the sight of Cassian’s hand hovering near the small of Evelina’s back as they examined a decorative map on the wall.

She looked so happy and free, brilliant and charming. And most infuriatingly, she looked like she had completely forgotten Ace was in the room.

His hand, currently holding a crystal wine glass, began to tremble with a suppressed rage.

He didn’t understand the source of the anger. He didn’t love her. He had never wanted her.

So why did the sight of her smiling at his rival feel like a betrayal? Why did the sound of her laughter make him want to clear the room with a sword?

Crr-ack.

The stem of the wine glass snapped under the sheer pressure of his grip. Dark red wine spilled across his hand, looking strikingly like the obsidian silk of her dress.

At that exact moment, a shimmering blue screen flickered into existence in the air just inches from Evelina’s face, invisible to everyone but her.

[Notification: Target’s blood pressure is spiking]

[Status: The Iron Duke is losing his composure]

[Reward: +200 Heart-Wrecker Points awarded!]

[Current Balance: 1300 Heart-Wrecker Points]

Evelina blinked. It was justified that Ace was going mad because she took charge and even altered the guest list according to what she deemed fit.

But was he so mad that his blood pressure is affected?

[The target is jealous, Host]

The system’s mechanic voice sounded.

Oh? Evelina blinked again. He was jealous because people paid her more attention that him? Alas, it makes sense because he was used to all the attention...

[The target is jealous because you are interacting with a man, Host.]

"_"

Evelina didn’t know if it was an illusion but the aloof System sounded a bit helpless.

Then, she paused. Ace was jealous because of her?

Could there be a misunderstanding. She understood him being confused or infuriated because of her but jealous... Could it be a miscalculation on the System’s part?

Evelina’s eyes caught the golden glow of the screen. The balance had indeed increased.

’Who cares if it was true or a miscalculation...? Atleast, my points are increasing!’

Thinking of that, Evelina became more content.

She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and looked up at Captain Cassian.

"Go on, Captain," she urged softly, her back still turned to Ace, "You were saying something about..."

Across the room, Ace stood with wine dripping from his knuckles, completely ignored by his own wife in his own home.

He had wanted her to leave him alone for ages already. Now it seemed like she finally had done that.

But he was so... utterly lost and enraged by the feeling.