“Oh my, I didn’t recognize you! I heard the Peytons’ sons were studying abroad in Gria…”

Milled’s sullen face—clearly offended by being ignored—melted away at Maude’s polite words like frost under spring sunlight.

“That’s quite all right. I’ve only just returned, after all, Lady Maude Hablein.”

His tone brimmed with confidence, almost smugness. Azel, watching from the side, let out a quiet snort—his gaze dropping just enough to catch the faint red creeping up Milled’s cheeks.

‘That b*stard’s actually blushing?’

One of Azel’s brows twitched upward. He clenched his fist. If this idiot dares— He could picture it all too easily: grabbing Milled by the collar and planting his smug face into the nearest card table. The redder that face grew, the stronger the urge became.

“Thank you for understanding,” Maude said smoothly. “Were you meeting Lady Brisa for something?”

“Not exactly a meeting. We were simply talking. She mentioned she also does men’s tailoring, you see.”

When Maude turned her gaze to Brisa, the latter immediately shook her head—as if to say, That wasn’t me.

‘Ha, I thought so.’

Milled’s voice kept babbling on about his new custom suit, but his words dissolved uselessly into the air. Not worth listening to. The two sons of the Peyton family had long been the laughingstock of high society, whispered about as the ones who would eventually drag the entire house into ruin.

“Oh dear, look at the time!” Maude exclaimed lightly. “I’m afraid I must excuse myself. Lady Brisa had already made plans with me.”

She gave only a perfunctory nod before catching Brisa by the hand and gently tugging her away. Milled, of course, stepped directly in front of them.

“Then at least allow me to treat you both to lunch. Sir Azel, you’re welcome to join as well.”

The deliberate challenge in his grin was the last straw for Azel. His temper flared, and he was half a breath away from grabbing the man when Maude’s calm voice stopped him.

‘Help me now,’ her eyes said.

“I see you two already know each other,” Maude added brightly. “Perfect! Then I’m sure Sir Azel can explain everything clearly, so there are no misunderstandings.”

Azel caught on instantly, nodding with casual ease. Milled’s smug expression faltered.

“Unfortunately,” Maude said sweetly, “Sir Azel already claimed that opportunity today.”

With a smile bright as midsummer sun, Azel stepped forward. 

“Indeed. Ladies, shall we? As for you, Milled—come by the naval headquarters tomorrow. I’ll buy you lunch then.”

Milled’s face twisted as the three of them walked away together, Maude and Brisa flanking the radiant Azel.

“That b*stard,” he muttered through gritted teeth, one corner of his mouth curling upward in an ugly sneer.

***

The summer avenue shimmered beneath thick rows of green trees. Now dressed in a crisp gray suit, Azel gave an embarrassed chuckle.

“I really should pay you back for this. I feel awful about it.”

Since he’d been wearing training clothes earlier, Brisa had escorted him to her atelier to change before they went out. The suit she lent him—tailored to perfection—fit like destiny itself.

“There’s no need,” Brisa said firmly, shaking her head. “Please, allow me the honor.”

Azel stopped protesting, flashing a warm smile instead. 

“Well then, I’ll wear it well, Lady Brisa.”

He joked about taking them both somewhere nice for lunch as repayment. Maude, who had been quietly smiling, finally spoke.

“I think lighter colors suit you, Captain. It’s a shame you always wear such dark ones.”

At that, Azel turned to look at her, brow slightly furrowed in confusion—as if the very idea was impossible. He slowed his steps, clearly thinking something over.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “I certainly don’t prefer them.”

But he continued, saying he had quite a few bright clothes. A radiant smile appeared on his face. Brisa watched the two of them closely.

“I see.” 

Maude replied simply, smiling along. But Brisa could tell—Maude wasn’t just making conversation. Her investor, her patron, was subtly fixated on the Duke’s wardrobe choices.

‘—In summer, even gentlemen wear light colors, don’t they?’

What Brisa had once dismissed as casual interest now seemed something else entirely. The tiny details, the attention to the smallest things—that was no longer business. That was love.

‘She really likes him! How adorable!’

Brisa’s smiling cheeks flushed pink. It was now time to cover Asel’s mouth, who, unlike his exceptionally handsome appearance, lacked a bit of tact. Brisa directed her gaze at the man sparkling under the fierce summer sun.

“Of course, for important occasions, darker colors give a stronger impression, right?” she interjected quickly, winking at him and glancing meaningfully toward Maude.

Azel froze for a heartbeat, then coughed awkwardly and nodded.

“Yes, precisely. Because it makes you look the most handsome.”

His cheerful voice drifted into the warm air, mingling with their soft laughter—their words melting into the lazy rhythm of summer. Maude simply smiled and nodded along.

She didn’t fully believe their explanations, but the effort was endearing enough.

Her gaze wandered to the far end of the street, past the rows of elm trees, where the golden clocktower gleamed in the distance. The hands pointed close to eleven.

‘Ah, right—Sarah.’

Her friend would be leaving school soon.

“I stepped in to help Brisa earlier, but… I actually have an appointment,” Maude said, glancing between the two.

Brisa blinked. “Oh?” Her face fell in dismay, silently pleading Don’t leave me alone!

Maude grinned playfully. 

“How about the two of you have lunch together instead? Just think of me as having joined you in spirit.”

Brisa shut her eyes tight, mortified, while Maude gave her a knowing, teasing smile—one that said, ‘Men like this don’t come around often.’

Azel looked disappointed. 

“What a pity. Next time, I’ll make sure to treat you properly, Lady Maude.”

“Deal.”

Her smile was bright and effortless—and Azel couldn’t help thinking how well she matched that summer sunlight.

‘They actually look good together,’ Maude thought, fighting the mischievous tug at her lips as she watched them.

***

Azel noticed the nervous tension clouding Brisa’s face. She looked ready to bolt at any moment.

‘Is she uncomfortable… because of me?’

He took a cautious step closer. 

“Will you allow me the chance to repay you, Lady Brisa?”

But Brisa immediately stepped back, pale and flustered. Azel paused, realization dawning. He remembered the park earlier—how she’d done the same thing when Milled had approached.

‘That idiot. What did he do to her?’

Azel exhaled sharply through his nose, anger tightening his chest. Before he could speak, the clock tower chimed eleven.

“I’m so sorry! Captain Azel, Brisa—I really have to go!”

Maude pressed her hands together in apology, then flashed them one last brilliant smile before darting away down the tree-lined path.

Azel chuckled quietly, then turned his gaze back to Brisa. She met it with an awkward, hesitant smile.

“It’s all right,” he said softly. “I won’t insist. Whatever you decide—I’ll respect it.”

His voice was gentle, warm as sunlight. It slipped through the air, wrapping her like a breeze. And in that heat, Brisa felt her heartbeat flutter and the back of her neck grow warm.

***

Meanwhile, in Kyle’s empty office, Felix had already arrived. He sat sprawled on the couch, tie loosened, a glass of whiskey dangling from one hand.

Despite his lazy posture, his sharp eyes flicked restlessly through the dim room.

Ten days before departure.

He frowned, mind turning over the latest rumor: that Rhaion had personally paid the insurance on the Arthus. The broker, James Scott, had been running his mouth about it all over the city—at least until the Empress herself had shut him up.

‘A bold move,’ Felix thought grimly. But to everyone else, just another one of his stupid stunts.

Everyone knew the Arthus wasn’t just a trade vessel. It was part of the illegal slave routes—something the entire upper class pretended not to see.

Years had passed since the abolition act, and yet under the protection of nobles and the new bourgeoisie, the trade persisted. Machines might have replaced labor in many places, but there were still fields and factories that demanded human hands.

Idealism couldn’t stop greed. Not when profit was the true master. This was an age ruled by capital and power—an era of cold ambition.

‘Insurance. Payment. Bold decisions.’

Felix turned the words over in his mind again and again, eyes narrowing. It was the same old stupidity—but something about this time… it felt off.

He sighed and took another slow sip of whiskey.

It was long past midnight when Kyle finally stepped into his office.