At the far end of Gronis Beach stretched Santana Square, lined with famous open-air cafés and seaside restaurants. Even in the late morning, the place was bustling.

As they crossed the square, a marble fountain came into view—the so-called Fountain of Wishes. Dozens of tourists clustered around it, tossing coins and snapping photos.

Maude’s gaze lingered briefly on the sparkling water before she turned away, quickening her pace. When the crowd was far enough behind them, she glanced back mischievously and whispered,

“It doesn’t work during the day, you know. You have to throw the coin at night for your wish to come true.”

Kyle let out a dry laugh. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not,” she replied lightly, eyes glinting as the sea breeze tousled her hair.

“I never said you were lying.”

“Then why are you smiling like that? You smile a lot more than you realize, you know that?”

Her teasing tone made him huff a laugh through his nose. ‘Who’s the one to talk here?’

But his quiet chuckle carried easily through the clear blue sky—and seeing that, Maude couldn’t help but smile too.

***

Below the square, the market district was alive with noise. The horse market was especially crowded that day—traders, riders, stable boys all jostling through the narrow streets.

Their meeting place was the fork at the market’s entrance. Kyle scanned the busy crowd, his eyes alert. Maude did the same, searching for someone.

Then her face lit up. “Rynn!”

Her voice rang bright over the noise. Kyle turned his head toward where she was waving—and there, standing among the stalls, was the painter they’d been looking for.

Ennen Voight.

Except… apparently, not quite.

When Maude leaned close, her voice dropped conspiratorially.

“Actually, Ennen Voight is her pen name. She only uses it for her art. Her real name is Rynn Claude.”

Kyle’s brow twitched. 

‘So that explains it.’

The woman approached them, brushing straw from her hat. Her short-cropped hair and trousers gave her the air of a man, but her fine-boned face revealed the truth. A middle-aged woman, modest yet proud, her eyes sharp with intelligence.

“Miss Maude? What a surprise. You didn’t send a word.”

Kyle finally understood. The secrecy, the ambiguous rumors—it had all been a shield. A way to live freely, untouched by prejudice.

“I’m Kyle Rizewell,” he introduced himself with a polite bow. “Thank you for agreeing to meet.”

Rynn’s lips curved into a faint smile. 

“You don’t have to tell me who you are. I can tell.”

Her gaze—warm, nostalgic—met the same striking blue eyes she’d once known. She bowed deeply. 

“It’s an honor.”

As the two began to talk, Maude took a discreet step back.

“I’ll let you two chat,” she said quickly. “I’ll just look around a bit.”

And with that, she turned to go—as if this had been her plan all along.

Kyle sighed, excused himself to Rynn, and strode after her. His long strides caught her easily, and he stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

“I don’t recall agreeing to that.”

Maude blinked, startled by the shadow he cast. 

“I won’t be long. You don’t have to worry.”

Her light laugh—almost innocent—somehow made it worse.

“Neither will I,” Kyle replied flatly.

He leaned closer, voice low but calm. 

“A lady who leaves her lover alone in a foreign city tends to attract gossip.”

Maude gawked at him. 

“You—!”

“And besides…” His lips curved faintly. “I think it’s safer if you don’t leave me alone.”

She stared, lost for words. What had started as a graceful exit had somehow turned into this. His confident smirk made her laugh despite herself.

“You’re making me sound shameless.”

“I’d never,” he said smoothly. “I’m only asking for the honor of your company.”

Unable to keep her laughter down, she sighed and nodded. 

“Fine.”

Kyle turned back toward the market, and she followed—still smiling despite herself.

‘Honestly, if you can’t win, you might as well play along.’

***

They later arrived at Rynn’s home—a quaint white-brick cottage with a roof the color of honeyed wood. The backyard looked like something straight out of a storybook.

While Kyle and Rynn talked upstairs on the terrace, Maude sat alone at the garden’s tea table, pretending not to listen.

‘A terrace, of all places…’

From her seat, she could see them perfectly—so much for giving them privacy. She sighed, lifting her cup of coffee.

Her eyes wandered over the peaceful garden: golden roses swaying in the breeze, dogs napping beneath the shade of an orange tree, sunlight trickling through the leaves. It was a small paradise—one that made her smile without realizing it.

Meanwhile, upstairs, a quiet wind turned the pages of an old book lying on the table between Kyle and Rynn. Her eyes lingered on the delicate handwriting.

Cinquefoil — Mother’s Love. 

Prefers well-drained soil and sunlight, yet can thrive almost anywhere. Blooms with yellow petals in late spring, brightening the world around it.

Pressed between the pages was an old, faded flower. Rynn touched it gently. Once vibrant yellow, it had dulled with time—like a memory long kept.

“The Empress wrote this herself,” Rynn said softly.

Kyle nodded. 

“We’ll need illustrations.”

Rynn looked up, meeting his eyes. Those same deep, ocean-blue eyes—the eyes of a woman she had once admired so deeply.

“I’ll give it my all,” she whispered.

After all these years, the lost manuscript had returned home—along with its rightful heir. Relief and joy welled up in her chest.

***

“Already finished?” Maude asked when the two finally came down.

“I wanted to invite you both to dinner,” Rynn said with a faint smile. “But I hear you already have plans.”

‘Plans?’

Maude blinked, glancing at Kyle. His only response was a nonchalant shrug. 

‘So this is what he is doing.’

“Well then,” Maude said lightly, playing along. 

“Next time, we’ll stay for dinner.”

Rynn smiled, satisfied. 

“Good. And don’t worry—Damien will arrive in two days.”

At that, Maude’s face lit up instantly, sunlight dancing across her cheeks.

Kyle blinked. 

“Damien?”

“A horse,” she explained cheerfully. “He was a racehorse once, but he got injured. I rescued him before they could put him down. He’s been staying with Rynn for a while.”

Her eyes shone with pride. 

“She has a mare named Elizabeth. I wanted them to be together.”

Kyle gave a small, incredulous laugh.

“But apparently, he’s not interested,” she went on. “Instead of flirting, he keeps chasing off gamblers from the illegal betting pits.”

She laughed at the absurdity, brushing her hair behind her ear. 

“Still, he earned a medal for it. Not exactly what I had in mind, but I’ll take it.”

“Do you ride often?” Kyle asked, curious despite himself.

“I love it. What about you, Captain?”

He hesitated. “…Somewhat.”

“I knew it,” she said with a triumphant grin. “You do like it.”

Her enthusiasm was contagious. For a moment, the land-bound summer didn’t seem so bad after all.

“When Damien’s back, I’ll show you,” she promised, smiling brightly.

Kyle chuckled quietly, shaking his head as he followed her down the sunlit path.

He thought he was beginning to understand, at least a little.

The one thing that makes her smile— A horse named Damien.