Kyle stepped out of the carriage and began walking along the Ridden Canal that wound its way toward Rosehill. If he kept following the waterway, it would open into a broad plain and a line of gentle hills—a view said to capture the heart of summer itself. People turned their heads as he passed, but as always, his face betrayed no emotion.

Aside from his dry, unreadable eyes, he looked almost like a boy running an errand for the first time—focused only on his destination, never distracted, his long strides cutting steadily forward.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the gas lamps lining the streets flickered to life one by one, and the crowds began to swell again. It was the kind of bustle befitting a festival famed across the capital—gentlemen and ladies finishing their social season, noblewomen hurrying along with their children in tow.

Kyle’s gaze drifted over the rows of stalls that filled the canal-side street. It was as if every variety of rose in the capital had gathered here in full bloom. Merchants’ hands moved quickly, trimming stems and arranging blossoms, while the mingling scent of the canal’s brackish water and the bitter freshness of cut rose stalks filled the air.

He only averted his eyes when the canal gave way to open ground. Beyond a row of tall plane trees, a rose garden came into view. The hill that rose past the garden was lively, dotted with blankets and folding chairs—it looked less like a festival and more like a picnic.

‘I thought this was a rose market, not a garden party,’ he thought, tilting his head slightly. 

His impassive gaze swept the hill—and stopped when it landed on a familiar figure. A woman stood there, her head turned as she tied back her hair. Beside her lay the straw hat he had seen back in Bergen.

‘She’s early again.’

Kyle checked his watch and chuckled quietly. Even though he’d arrived thirty minutes ahead of schedule, she’d beaten him here. Each time, she was showing up earlier and earlier—almost as if she were trying to make it a point of pride. What used to be ten minutes had now turned into thirty.

Running a hand through his hair, he sighed softly. He’d have to explain the concept of perfect timing to her before long—otherwise, she’d probably keep doing this for the rest of their contract.

Still… he had chosen her himself. A guileless, sincere partner. Wasn’t that his own fault?

“Just for one day, lend me the Captain.” 

He hadn’t taken that bold request seriously at first.

Kyle smiled faintly to himself. It was only right that he bear the weight of any scandal or misunderstanding that came from this fake relationship. Waiting. Worrying. Caring more than he should. That, too, would always fall to his side.

He had no plans to truly fall for her. He would use her as necessary—but without causing her unnecessary pain.

When this fleeting summer ended, he would return to another unremarkable one. Back to his ordinary life. That was all he wished for.

He glanced down, careful not to step on the edge of a picnic blanket as he climbed the slope. Then—he felt her gaze before he even looked up.

There she was, not far ahead, smiling brightly at him. The lace ribbons of her straw hat fluttered in the breeze, just like the first day they met.

As Kyle drew closer, Maude’s eyes widened slightly. His suit looked different with every step he took—at first the pale color of dry sand, then shifting to a faint gray washed in water. It was hard to name the hue, but whatever it was, it suited him perfectly.

The light-colored fabric seemed to illuminate his face. His neat fringe stirred in the evening breeze, and with the scent of roses on the wind, his presence felt almost unreal—like a prince stepping out of a fairytale.

‘A prince, huh?’ She nearly laughed out loud at her own thought.

“The outfit suits you,” Maude said with a warm smile. “You look… really good.”

Kyle gave a graceful nod in return. The composure in his movement made it seem as though he’d been born to wear the suit. His low, velvety voice followed.

“You look good too, Miss Maude.”

He paused—then added, softly,

“You’re beautiful tonight.”

Just a few simple words, but they landed in her ears like a slow, sweet melody. It was a polite, meaningless compliment—yet somehow, her heart fluttered anyway.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

‘Honestly… what an infuriatingly perfect man.’

If the prince who bewitched the little mermaid had truly existed, surely he would’ve looked just like this.

Blinking at the man before her, Maude quickly changed the subject before her thoughts could wander any further. 

“I should’ve brought something along… we look kind of unprepared.”

Her eyes darted around, taking in the blankets and folding chairs spread across the hill. She gave a sheepish laugh, while Kyle, after a glance around, gestured toward the path.

“How about a walk?”

“Sure.”

Maude smiled, slipping her hand lightly into his offered arm. Together they descended the slope toward the rose garden below.

The entrance was bright and crowded, no different from midday. Even while they moved through the throng, Maude’s gaze kept drifting upward.

“Wow…” she breathed.

Dozens of sky lanterns floated above them, shaped like petals and glowing softly in the summer wind. Their trembling light reflected off the glass greenhouse at the garden’s edge, turning it into a sea of glittering gold.

Maude smiled faintly. It had been years since she’d truly enjoyed a summer evening like this. Work and duty had left her little time for festivals—or for wonder.

She walked a little closer to the greenhouse. If only every summer could be as simple as this, she thought. But soon enough, the noisy season would return—the crowded parties, the endless expectations.

Her eyes found Kyle again. He stood a few paces behind her, staring up at the floating lanterns.

“I just need time.”

His voice from that night echoed faintly in her mind.

His next summer, she knew, would be quiet—spent at sea, under the roar of waves and the crash of white foam. A place where life and death brushed shoulders.

The memory of his bloodstained shirt flickered across her thoughts. He would return to that sea, leaving everything certain behind for the uncertainty beyond.

A strange, heavy feeling sank into her chest. She took a step toward him, meaning to suggest they take a look inside the greenhouse—

Then froze.

‘What on earth…?’

The large beech tree beside the entrance was shaking violently, its young leaves scattering in all directions. Maude’s hand, reaching for the door handle, hesitated midair.

She tilted her head, drawn by the strange motion—and then stopped short. A flash of scarlet on the ground caught her eye. A woman’s dress.

The tree’s branches shuddered again, even harder this time.

“A-ah…”

“W-wait, hold still—ugh—”

Voices. A man’s and a woman’s, low and breathless, coming from behind the tree.

Maude slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from gasping. Sweat dampened her grip on the straw hat she clutched as she squeezed her eyes shut.

‘Okay. Turn around. Just walk away. Slowly.’

She tried to calm herself, but the sounds only grew louder—and clearer.

‘Why—why would they do that here?!’

Her face pale, she stumbled back a step—and caught her foot on a stone.

Before she could fall, a firm hand caught her shoulder. Her eyes darted up, meeting Kyle’s calm, unreadable gaze.

Her cheeks burned crimson. Even though his expression didn’t change, something about the way he looked down at her made her skin feel like it was on fire.

A moment later, his hand slipped away. The muffled sounds from behind the tree were getting louder now, leaving no time to think.

Instinctively, she grabbed his hand.

Kyle’s brows twitched slightly in surprise.

“Let’s go, quickly!” she hissed.

And just like that, they ran.

Her hair tie snapped as they moved, and her loose hair spilled out, whipping in the summer wind. The faint scent of figs followed her, mingling with the night air.

Between the strands of her flowing hair, her flushed cheeks glowed like rose petals beneath the lantern light.