After stepping down from first class, the two men lifted their gazes toward Edent’s evening-colored sky.

The first thing they noticed the moment the outside air brushed against their skin was the city’s chilly weather.

After spending so many hours aboard the train, Elliot carefully stretched his stiff body and inhaled deeply.

Beside him, Hemian spoke quietly.

“We’re going to Mrs. Bovary’s house immediately.”

***

Standing before Mrs. Bovary’s home, Hemian furrowed his brows deeply.

‘Ophe is living in a place like this?’

The crude, cramped-looking house itself already displeased him, but what unsettled him even more was the realization that Ophelia, who had never once escaped his grasp before, might truly be somewhere unfamiliar to him.

‘I need to bring her back quickly.’

He had nearly lost his wife forever.

If he managed to get Ophelia back this time, he would make absolutely certain nothing like this ever happened again.

Meanwhile, Elliot approached the front door, cleared his throat lightly, and knocked.

“Is anyone there?”

After a short while, accompanied by the smell of freshly cooked food, Mrs. Bovary appeared.

Seeing unexpected visitors arrive so late at night, confusion filled her face.

Hemian immediately searched past her shoulder, hoping to catch sight of Ophelia.

But there was no one behind her.

Mrs. Bovary looked warily at Elliot standing before her.

“…May I ask who you are?”

“Would you happen to be Mrs. Bovary?”

“I am, but…?”

Mrs. Bovary could not hide her bewilderment at the sight of two men who looked unmistakably noble.

First, the carriage from the Winches grand ducal estate had suddenly appeared at the letter-writing shop.

And now this.

The past few days had been nothing but one strange event after another.

The man standing farther back was difficult to see clearly in the darkness, but he looked like the superior of the one knocking on the door.

Elliot continued speaking.

“My apologies for visiting so late. Has a noblewoman recently come to stay at this residence? Her name is Ophelia Roswell…”

The moment she heard the explanation, Mrs. Bovary instantly understood the situation.

‘These men are from the Roswell family.’

Which meant the man standing behind him was most likely Hemian Roswell himself, the young lady’s former husband.

Mrs. Bovary decided to be cautious.

There had to be a reason why Miss Ophelia, after finalizing her divorce, had fled all the way to distant Edent, a place with no connection whatsoever to the Roswell family.

‘She didn’t explain the details, but… she must have been running away from that household.’

And because of that, Mrs. Bovary had no intention of revealing Ophelia’s whereabouts to these men.

Not even slightly.

She had no desire to ruin the girl’s escape.

When she failed to answer immediately, the man who had remained standing behind Elliot finally stepped forward.

As soon as he came close enough for his face to be seen clearly, Mrs. Bovary’s suspicions were confirmed.

It was Hemian.

“Has Ophelia Roswell come here?”

Miss Ophelia’s former husband.

Mrs. Bovary looked directly into his eyes.

His outward appearance was still polished and handsome as ever, but knowing he had hurt the precious young lady made her unable to look upon him kindly.

‘What should I do?’

While hurriedly trying to think of an excuse, a voice suddenly came from behind her.

“Mom, who’s here?”

It was Clarice, who had been eating dinner with her earlier.

Her mother had been gone for quite a while after answering the door, leaving her confused.

Tilting her head slightly at the sight of the two gentlemen standing outside, Clarice asked,

“Who are you?”

“Has Lady Roswell come here recently?”

Elliot repeated Hemian’s question.

After taking in her mother’s stiff expression and the men’s noble attire, Clarice seemed to grasp the entire situation instantly.

Her face turned cold.

“Who’s that? And why are you looking for her here?”

Mrs. Bovary looked at her daughter in slight surprise but said nothing.

Both men appeared momentarily taken aback by Clarice’s sharp response.

“So… you’re saying she hasn’t come here?”

The blond man standing in the back spoke.

Clarice nearly blushed at the sight of his handsome face, but she stubbornly widened her eyes instead.

“That’s right! No one’s come here. And I think it’s incredibly rude to show up unannounced at a house where women live this late at night! Goodbye!”

Bang!

The two men froze as the door slammed shut right in front of them.

“So… Ophelia truly hasn’t come here?”

“That does appear to be what they’re saying.”

Mrs. Bovary. Her face lingered faintly in Hemian’s memories.

She looked older than he remembered, but it was definitely her.

Ophelia had gone to Edent, and the only person in the city with ties to his wife was Mrs. Bovary.

Hemian pressed a hand to his head as a headache began to pound behind his temples.

“…I think they’re lying.”

“I agree.”

Elliot quietly nodded.

They could not return to the Roswell estate empty-handed.

Hemian strode back to the tightly shut door and knocked once more.

Only after two polite knocks did the door reluctantly open again.

Mrs. Bovary stood there with an even harsher expression than before.

“Mrs. Bovary.”

Hemian had never paid much attention to a maid from the Dauer household, but he wanted to give the impression that he remembered her.

So he greeted her with deliberate courtesy.

“I’m searching for my wife. This is a very important matter.”

Mrs. Bovary wavered for a brief moment.

But only for a moment.

Her expression soon hardened once more as she answered firmly,

“Count Roswell, I’m sorry, but the young lady is not here. Truly. Please return safely.”

The door shut again.

Elliot’s eyes darted nervously as he gauged his master’s mood after being turned away so thoroughly.

Hemian stood there as though rooted to the ground before finally stepping back.

Of course, he had no intention of giving up so easily.

***

Ophelia’s first morning in the unfamiliar room began with her waking early from sheer nervousness.

The faint dawn light slowly seeped through the window, gently illuminating the dim room.

Following the shadows cast across the curtains with absent eyes, only one thought filled Ophelia’s mind.

‘What kind of work will he give me?’

Since she did not truly understand what a secretary’s duties entailed, she had asked Meryl to borrow no fewer than five books from the library about the work of secretaries and stayed up late reading them all.

And despite that, she had still awakened this early.

Climbing out of bed, Ophelia opened the window wide and inhaled the cold morning air deeply.

It cleared her head a little.

‘I should probably take a walk.’

After informing Meryl that she wished to stroll through the gardens, Ophelia left her room.

Meryl had insisted that if she walked a little farther past the gardens, she would come across an incredibly beautiful lake.

She had also wrapped a thick shawl around Ophelia’s shoulders, warning her that it might be chilly.

As Ophelia stepped outside and walked through the crisp morning air, she suddenly realized she had not yet properly thanked Duke Winches.

His methods might have been a bit overbearing, but he had ultimately helped her, and for that she truly was grateful.

Lost in thought, Ophelia pondered quietly.

‘If I run into him again, I should properly thank him first.’

How long had she walked while thinking that?

The carefully maintained trees gradually grew taller, and the path narrowed little by little before, at the end of the trail, a brilliant blue lake finally came into view.

Cold, pristine wind swept through the trees surrounding the water.

Pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders, Ophelia stepped closer to the lakeside.

Perhaps because it was still early morning or perhaps the area was simply secluded by nature the place was utterly quiet.

Just as Meryl had said, the scenery was breathtaking.

Beech trees and ash trees surrounding the vivid blue lake flaunted their lush greenery proudly.

Even the gentlest breeze sent leaves rustling softly as delicate ripples spread across the water’s surface.

Standing still, Ophelia silently took in the view.

Ever since arriving in Edent, everything had been so chaotic that this kind of peace felt precious to her.

Wanting to explore the beautiful lakeside a little longer, she continued walking.