When Ophelia arrived at the train station, she paid the carriage fare and stepped down.

Though it was still early morning, the station was crowded with people.

Office workers heading to work, laborers, station employees…

As though being chased by something unseen, she hurried toward the ticket booth, anxiety tightening around her chest.

“One ticket to the capital, please.”

“Which departure time would you like?”

“The earliest one available.”

After purchasing a single ticket, she moved to the waiting hall.

Choosing a corner of the small space, she pulled her hat low over her face and tried not to attract anyone’s attention.

It had been a long time since her last meal, yet she felt no hunger.

Her stomach felt hollow and empty, as though anything she ate would come right back up.

The shawl draped over her shoulders felt slightly suffocating, but she did not bother removing it.

The weather at her destination would be colder than here anyway.

After some time passed, the train finally arrived with a loud screeching roar.

Everyone in the waiting hall began moving at once.

Ophelia cautiously blended into the crowd.

When it was her turn to board, she showed the station attendant her ticket.

Click.

With a crisp sound, half the ticket was torn away.

Ophelia stared blankly at the remaining half still left in her hand.

“Please keep moving.”

People behind her began urging her forward, and she quickly hurried down the narrow corridor.

The damp third-class carriage contained cramped seats arranged four across from one another.

Unfortunately, her seat was the one furthest inside.

Worse still, everyone else was already seated.

“Excuse me…”

After barely managing to sit down, Ophelia leaned back against the seat and quietly released a breath she had been holding.

The people across from her read their newspapers as though they had no interest in her whatsoever.

She turned her gaze toward the window.

The still scenery outside glowed softly beneath the early morning sunlight.

Not long after, the metallic groan of steam engines filled the air.

The unmoving landscape slowly began to accelerate.

Soon, the wild grass stretching along the railway blurred into streaks of green.

Ophelia closed her eyes.

Exhaustion swept over her from not having slept properly all night.

“We’ve arrived at the capital, Burlington! Passengers disembarking, please prepare to exit!”

Ophelia jolted awake in shock.

Fatigue made the muscles beneath her eyes twitch faintly.

Before she realized it, the train had already reached her destination.

‘I fell asleep.’

The train was gradually slowing down.

She put her hat back on, tightened her shawl more securely around herself, and slowly rose to join the line of passengers preparing to disembark.

A great many people got off in the capital.

The area outside the station was incomparably busier than the Roswell territory.

For someone who had spent her entire life in a small city, Burlington felt overwhelmingly crowded.

She felt as though she might stumble at any moment, but she forced strength into her legs.

Public carriages lined the front of the station one after another, waiting for passengers.

Ophelia approached the very first one.

“Take me to the courthouse.”

Only after giving her destination and climbing into the carriage did she finally let out a small breath.

Perhaps because she had been so tense, the hand clutching her handbag had turned deathly pale.

When she loosened her grip, her fingertips tingled painfully.

Pulling back the curtain slightly, Ophelia stared out at the unfamiliar streets of the capital.

Deep afternoon sunlight settled between the hurried crowds moving through the city in top hats and fine coats.

The coachman lightly cracked his whip.

The horses immediately picked up speed.

***

The Winches family.

The Empire’s one and only ducal house.

And its head, Cedric von Eschbart Winches, was currently wearing an exceptionally unpleasant expression.

Because earlier that morning, he had received a highly unwelcome letter.

[To my esteemed brother Cedric.

Why won’t you believe me?

I’m telling you that Viscount Berkshire’s son has been exchanging love letters with one of their maids.

And he dares to do so while leaving me, the daughter of House Winches, aside.

Are you simply going to stand by and allow this?

If that’s your intention, then I won’t remain still either. I’ll have an affair myself if I must.

—Adre Winches]

The letter jumped straight into the matter without so much as a greeting, written so aggressively that Cedric could practically hear Adre’s shrill voice echoing in his head.

[If that’s your intention, then I won’t remain still either. I’ll have an affair myself if I must.]

There could hardly be a more horrifying threat than that.

His younger sister was not someone who made empty threats.

Cedric pressed a hand against his forehead before finally picking up a pen.

It’s not that I don’t trust you. But don’t you think your broken engagements have become a little too frequent…

He scribbled the words down before abruptly stopping.

Because he could already vividly imagine Adre furiously arguing back the moment she read the letter.

‘I’ll deal with it later.’

A headache beginning to form, Cedric shoved the letter out of sight and pressed his fingers against his temple.

His younger sister, Adre Winches, had already reached marriageable age and her standards for men were extraordinarily, unbearably high.

Not only did a man need exceptional looks, but he also needed a prestigious family background, strong morals, and a good personality.

Which meant the marriage negotiations with the Berkshire marquisate were effectively over now.

Her third broken engagement this year alone.

It did not take much imagination to know how noisy high society would become over it.

“Haa…”

A small sigh escaped him.

Cedric Winches was widely known throughout society by the nickname the Reclusive Duke.

And there was a very clear reason for such a bizarre title.

Not only did he avoid banquets and parties, but he rarely even showed himself at important official imperial events.

As a result, there were only a handful of nobles who had ever seen his face in person.

Of course, his appearance was already well known through newspapers.

Still, for Cedric, noisy affairs and becoming the subject of public gossip were things he truly wished to avoid.

Marriage.

He understood that it was one of the most important events in a person’s life.

But as someone who had never once considered marriage for himself, Cedric found it difficult to understand Adre.

“Sherman.”

He called for the butler quietly standing in the corner.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“According to Adre, Viscount Berkshire’s son has been exchanging love letters with one of their maids.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Sherman’s face.

After briefly observing the expression on his butler’s face, Cedric continued,

“What do you think?”

“……I do not believe the young lady would make such claims without reason.”

“True enough. Adre is not the sort to invent lies.”

Rubbing his temple, Cedric continued speaking.

“She says if we take no action, she won’t stay quiet. Claims she’ll have an affair herself if necessary.”

“The young lady said that? Ah…”

Knowing very well the temperament of the third daughter of House Winches, Sherman’s expression tightened immediately.

“Before my sister causes another unnecessary uproar, we should investigate these alleged love letters the viscount’s son has been exchanging.”

“Understood.”

The butler withdrew with a face full of concern.

Left alone in the office, Cedric stared blankly at the empty sheet of paper resting atop his desk.

He could not postpone replying to Adre forever.

But Cedric had never possessed much talent for writing letters.

Unable to figure out how to respond without upsetting his difficult younger sister, he repeatedly picked up and set down the pen for no reason at all.

‘She used to write letters so well.’

Tap.

The sudden thought brought his movements to a halt.

“Hah.”

Why was he suddenly remembering something he had nearly forgotten?

“Is it because of this damned letter?”

He deliberately scoffed and shoved the paper aside, but once the memories began, they continued one after another.

That girl.

“Hello! Did you just move here?”

“Ah… Wait. Can you not speak? Then…”

“Write here instead!”

A small sheet of paper and a pen she had rummaged out from the worn pocket of her skirt.

Her lovely smiling face.

Eyes that seemed to hold every color in the world.

‘…How could I ever forget you?’

Lost in memory for a moment, Cedric covered his lips and smiled faintly.

Before meeting her, Cedric’s world had been nothing but darkness.

The conversations of worried adults speaking about him had felt like endless nightmares, and every moment spent facing blank sheets of paper had been suffocatingly hopeless.

Those sheets of paper, the only means of communication he had while suffering from mutism, had once felt like towering walls separating him from the rest of the world.

And yet, why had the paper she offered him felt so special?

How had she managed to pull him back into the world?

…That girl.

The girl who used to pour her whole heart into every letter she wrote to him.

Was she doing well?

After sinking briefly into thought, Cedric shook his head.

‘Let’s not wonder about her.’

It had already been a long time since she became another man’s woman.

And surely, she was living happily.