Under the soft glow of the moonlight, Kazerre instinctively tensed as he took a closer look at the woman who had drawn near.

Those green eyes—he had seen them before.

A memory he hadn’t even realized he still held surfaced—vivid, like the unyielding green leaves of an ancient tree that endured through all seasons.

“Haven’t we met before, in the Morbe shopping district a while ago?”

A voice filled with certainty reached him. Her calm green eyes shimmered, fresh and bright like budding spring leaves.

Without averting his gaze, Kazerre replied, “You’re the lady who was boldly wandering through the Morbe shopping district alone.”

Though he hadn’t intended it, his voice came out unexpectedly gentle.

“Oh my, I was right!”

Beaming, the woman clapped her hands in delight. Her delicate features brightened into a smile, reminding him of a lily blooming under the night sky.

“I’m so glad to see you again. I’ve always felt guilty for not properly expressing my gratitude back then, but fate has given me another chance. What a relief.”

“I simply did what anyone should. There’s no need to concern yourself,” Kazerre replied flatly. He wasn’t being modest—he had only done what was expected, and there was no reason to be thanked for it.

But the woman was not easily deterred.

“Please don’t say that. Though I was too flustered at the time to even ask your name, I am not someone who forgets a debt of gratitude.”

She gently folded her hands in front of her waist and bowed gracefully.

“I apologize for the delayed greeting. My name is Clonay Huster. Once again, I sincerely thank you for saving me that day.”

Straightening her posture, Clonay met Kazerre’s gaze.

It was now his turn to introduce himself. She watched him expectantly, eyes glimmering with anticipation at the opportunity for a proper exchange of names.

Kazerre could already predict her reaction upon hearing his name—widened eyes, a hurried display of formal courtesy, perhaps even a sudden silence as she inevitably recalled the woman associated with him.

For some reason, he found himself reluctant to share his name with her.

It was an odd feeling. The prophecy concerning him and Aveline had long been ingrained in the empire’s consciousness, as natural and inevitable as the sun rising by day and the moon by night.

There was no reason for him to mind it now.

Yet, a strange sensation settled over him, rough and dry, like a mouthful of sand.

“…Kazerre Evuteren.”

But he couldn’t ignore a formal introduction when she had already offered hers. In the end, he stated his name.

“Oh…”

As expected, Clonay’s eyes widened in surprise, her right hand instinctively covering her mouth.

Kazerre simply met her gaze in silence, understanding her reaction.

Then, with composed grace, Clonay gathered her skirts and offered a deep, elegant curtsy.

“I apologize for not recognizing a noble figure, Your Grace, the Duke of Evuteren. It is an honor to meet you.”

Her voice had taken on a more measured and formal tone.

She carried herself with the poise and refinement of a figure in an old portrait. Unlike the dazzling ladies of high society, her simplicity only enhanced her classic elegance.

“The honor is mine, Lady Huster.”

Kazerre returned the greeting with the same polite and measured formality.

It was an unembellished exchange, yet Clonay’s composure wavered slightly. She blinked in surprise before asking,

“You know of my family?”

“Isn’t it located near Gilt Mountain?”

At this, her face lit up with pure delight, as though pleased that her family was known.

“You’re quite knowledgeable. Have you been to Gilt Mountain before?”

“…No. But I’ve heard of it,” Kazerre replied, his lips pressing into a firm line. It was not a memory he welcomed.

‘Aveline, not there. Over here.’

‘Here?’

‘Yes. This is where the eleventh star fell.’

It was a time when he was deeply enamored with the romance of destiny, believing it to be something ordained by the gods.

He had been just a boy then, and the very sound of the word fate had been intoxicating.

Kazerre would often retrace the beginning of his story with Aveline—on maps, in history books, even in sacred texts—marveling at how predestined their bond seemed to be.

It had been a time of youth and thus, of foolishness.

Now, he understood that a fate decided by the gods was not always a blessing—just as Aveline was no longer the sweet girl he had once known.

“Did you return home safely that day?”

Kazerre deliberately sought out a question to steer the conversation elsewhere. Clonay shyly cupped one cheek with her palm before answering.

“Thanks to you. I caught a carriage right away and arrived home without trouble. I didn’t finish my errands, though, so I’ll have to go back soon.”

“It would be better to ask someone familiar with the area to accompany you next time. It’s a rather complicated place.”

“Yes, I’ll do that. That day, I realized just how unfriendly the Morbe shopping district can be to someone visiting for the first time.”

Clonay smiled gently—a warm, soft smile, as if recalling something precious.

“I was actually out shopping for a gift for my aunt. Since I’m staying with her after coming to the capital, I wanted to express my gratitude. But in the end, I ended up relying on her once again.”

Despite her words, she didn’t look troubled or discouraged, like an unwelcome guest overstaying her welcome. There was a certain charm about women who were truly cherished—something that put those around them at ease.

“I doubt she sees it that way.”

It was a kind response. Unexpectedly so, coming from a man who had been consistently indifferent both then and now—making his kindness all the more valuable.

Clonay’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. Then, after a moment, she asked with a bright smile, “Do you think so?”

It was a pure, radiant smile, one that washed away the lingering unpleasantness in his thoughts.

Rather than responding, Kazerre simply observed her in silence. He held her gaze for a little longer than usual, until her laughter faded and an awkward stillness settled between them.

Even he found his actions somewhat unlike himself.

Why?

Was it those green eyes that kept drawing his attention?

This feeling, as if the walls he had carefully built were slowly crumbling—what was it?

“……”

As Kazerre questioned himself, Clonay, too, continued to meet his gaze without looking away.

Or rather, she couldn’t look away.

Though her face burned crimson under his stare, she felt no desire to break eye contact first.

Ding—

Just then, a deep chime echoed in the distance. It was the sound of the clock tower in the grand temple, ringing four times a day to announce prayer hours.

Like someone waking from a dream, Clonay blinked, then glanced toward Elysia Hall.

It was time to leave.

“I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.”

Even as she spoke, her voice was tinged with regret.

“Today has been such a lucky day. I got to meet my savior again, found out that my savior is none other than the Duke of Evuteren, and even learned that Your Grace prefers a quiet walk to a grand banquet, just like me.”

Her words flowed naturally, as if she were confessing something tender—choosing the loveliest phrases, carefully conveying just how much this meeting meant to her.

Had her sincerity reached him?

The corners of Kazerre’s lips, which had been firm as steel, finally softened into the faintest curve.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Lady Huster.”

A simple farewell—yet with his elegant smile, it was more than enough.

Clonay lifted her skirts slightly and curtsied, trying to contain the emotions welling inside her.

“The honor was mine, Your Grace. I hope fate allows us to meet again.”

Turning away at last, Clonay took a slow step forward.

Now, she truly had to leave. She knew that walking away gracefully was the proper way for a lady to conclude such a moment.

But her heart refused to follow.

It lingered, hesitating, glancing back at him.

If only she could return, if only she could speak with him just a little longer.

Perhaps that longing weighed down her steps. The moment she thought she had walked away with composure, her foot caught awkwardly.

“Ah—!”

She let out a small gasp as her body tilted forward, losing balance.

Instinctively, her eyes squeezed shut, bracing for the pain to come.

Yet no pain came.

Instead, something firm yet gentle wrapped around her waist and pulled her upright.

“Are you all right?”

The deep voice, filled with concern, sent a heated tremor through her ears.

Only then did Clonay cautiously open her eyes.

The face that had seemed so distant was now right in front of hers, looking down at her.

Beyond his broad shoulders stretched the vast night sky.

Her feet no longer touched the ground.

The strength in his grasp holding her steady.

The crisp, cool scent was lingering at the tip of her nose.

Everything was clear.

And yet, none of it fully registered—because all she could focus on was his eyes.

Eyes so mesmerizing they evoked a desire to reach out, even when she knew they weren’t hers to claim.

Those iridescent violet eyes, utterly captivating, made her heart tremble in a way she couldn’t understand.

Before she knew it, following the pull of that restless emotion, Clonay lifted a hand—

“Kazerre!”

A sharp cry tore through the space between them like a blade slicing cleanly through silk.