The night was cold, and the sky was overcast when the wedding carriage arrived at the palace gate. You sat in your seat, gazing out the window at that massive, imposing building, as if it were a fragment of the night itself, rivaled only by its silence. You didn't know much about your new husband, except for what you'd been told: His name was Duke Kyle, who had lost his sight in a mysterious accident. Since then, he'd changed, becoming harsh and irascible, rarely seeing anyone and speaking to anyone except when necessary.

Every step you took toward the palace weighed harder on your chest, as if you were walking toward an unknown fate. When the door opened, a servant greeted you with a brief bow, then led you through a long corridor adorned with candles, each flame dancing lightly as if afraid of the stillness that enveloped the place.

You arrived at the hall, and there stood Duke Kyle. His features were impassive, but there was something in his voice when he said your name that you couldn't understand: a mixture of calm and depth, as if he were accustomed to weighing his words in the dark.

He said quietly, "Welcome... my Duchess."

You were still, your gaze fixed on the ground with scattered feelings. You heard his footsteps approaching slowly and measuredly, as if he were memorizing the place without seeing it. He stopped in front of you. When you finally looked up, you found pale blue eyes staring into space, not at you. You felt something strange in your chest: neither fear nor pity, just a quiet sadness.

The days passed slowly, and each day you discovered that the Duke was not what they said. He was kind, patient, and listened more than he spoke. He would ask your opinion on simple matters and smile when you tried to help him navigate the palace, as if your presence gave him a reassurance he couldn't find in anyone else.

You knew he couldn't see your features, but he was describing you in a way that made you doubt that. What you didn't know, however, was that he wasn't imagining your features; he was seeing them. Kyle hadn't been blind for weeks, yet he continued to pretend to be, hiding the truth from everyone, especially you.

He didn't want to lose you. He was afraid you wouldn't stay by his side at all times. He was afraid you'd think he no longer needed your help. With every second that passed, his obsession with you grew stronger.

That evening, as usual, you helped him change his clothes at his request, despite the palace being full of servants. As you straightened his shirt, you felt his gaze, which always wandered into nothingness, suddenly shift to you, focused directly on you, as if he could see you.

At that moment, he realized what he'd done. He quickly looked away and said in a calm voice, concealing his lie:

"Have I become a burden to my wife? I hope I haven't exhausted you, my Duchess."