Chapter 8.5

Michael bit the inside of his cheek hard. Considering the timing of events, it was clear that he himself had indirectly driven Andrea to leave the Byron estate. Hadn’t he relentlessly hurled sharp words at her, even when she had declared her intention to stay by Frederick Byron’s side?

But this wasn’t what he had wanted—to have her disappear like this. He didn’t know which direction she had gone, whether she had boarded a ship or a carriage, or even whether she was alive or dead. As Michael considered every possible scenario, his chest tightened.

‘What if Andrea has done something drastic…’

For a moment, his vision went dark. Once the dreadful thought took root, it grew uncontrollably, painting his mind black. The words he had spoken to deny his own feelings came flooding back, one by one. Words that would have pierced Andrea’s heart like arrows.

“Do we really need to set an end to this? I don’t think this kind of relationship is bad.”

“Are you trying to provoke me by scratching at my pride?”

“You never tell me no. It’s because you love me.”

It was Michael who had drawn the bowstring. But the arrow that had pierced Andrea’s heart had also lodged itself deeply in his own. The more vividly he recalled Andrea’s face growing paler with each word he had spoken, the more color drained from his own face.

Clenching his fists tightly, Michael dug his nails into his palms, causing a sharp pain. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to regain his composure.

‘…Dwelling on the situation and despairing won’t help. There’s no time to be lost in past regrets.’

After briefly collecting his thoughts, Michael voiced the most hopeful possibility out loud.

“Could she have returned to the Marquis’s estate in the capital?”

At his words, the head maid bowed her head and replied.

“We’ve already sent someone to check. We’ll need confirmation, but it’s highly unlikely she went there…”

Michael frowned.

“Why do you think that?”

“If she intended to return to the Marquis’s estate, she wouldn’t have kept it a secret from us. Had she informed us, we would have prepared a carriage for her immediately.”

It was a reasonable argument. Michael let out a low hum. Sensing his displeasure, the head maid added cautiously.

“Furthermore…”

“…”

“She didn’t even take the maid who had accompanied her from the Marquis’s estate. If she had planned to return there or visit a nearby estate, she would have taken that maid with her.”

“The maid?”

Michael’s gaze shifted to the servants lined up behind the butler and head maid. His eyes landed on one figure standing slightly apart from the group of maids.

‘She looks familiar… Where have I seen her before?’

With brown hair and an unassuming demeanor, the woman stirred a vague memory. Then Michael’s lips parted slightly in realization. Though his recollection was faint, he remembered seeing her standing beside Andrea at the harbor. He also recalled thinking that she didn’t seem surprised by his presence, as if she already knew about his relationship with Andrea.

At that moment, the maid, who had been hanging her head, glanced up furtively. Their eyes met in midair.

“…”

The instant their gazes locked, the maid trembled as if she had seen a ghost and quickly lowered her head. Her reaction was too extreme to be mere surprise. A sharp sensation shot up Michael’s spine to the back of his head. It was an instinctive feeling.

‘This woman knows something.’

Michael’s gaze darkened as he stared at the maid’s bowed head.

—

“Rea!”

Andrea, who had been flipping through a worn poetry book at the kitchen table, lifted her head in surprise. Rising from her seat, she called out loudly.

“Yes, Grandma?”

“Could you fill the water trough for the horses? The sun is setting already. The days are getting shorter.”

The elderly woman, stirring a pot of soup, smiled warmly. Andrea beamed and nodded.

“Yes, I’ll take care of it.”

As she stepped out, closing the creaky door behind her, a cool breeze brushed against her cheeks. Andrea took a deep breath, taking in the serene view of the pasture. The small, weathered house, made of roughly hewn wood, was humble but cozy.

‘What would I have done without Maria?’

Andrea exhaled deeply, thinking of Maria’s face. This was the home of a distant relative of Maria’s. When Andrea had expressed her desire to escape, Maria had introduced her to this place without a moment’s hesitation.

“There’s no need to explain every little detail. Maria isn’t someone who says nonsense, so there must be a good reason. Stay as long as you wish. It’d be nice if you could help this old woman with her work.”

“Really, is that okay?”

“Of course. Facing things head-on isn’t always the answer. Sometimes running away is the best option. There are moments like that in life. For you, it seems that moment is now, isn’t it?”

“……”

“When you take a break by running away for a while, you’ll find the strength to face things again. And if the strength never comes, you can always build a new life where you’ve escaped to. Life isn’t a one-way road.”

The elderly woman, with her warm demeanor, didn’t pry into who Andrea was, why she had fled here, or why she looked as though she might die at any moment. She simply patted Andrea on the shoulder a few times, assuming there must be a reason.

‘I thought I’d just quietly stay here, grateful for the chance to impose.’

Andrea quickly adapted to life on the ranch. Though she hadn’t used her skills much recently, she was naturally adept at work. Having done all kinds of odd jobs before, she quickly got used to unfamiliar tasks. Moving heavy loads all day tired her body, but her mind felt light.

To be honest, she wondered if she’d ever had such peaceful days in her life. Waking up at sunrise and going to bed at sunset. Being free to roam without worrying about anyone’s watchful eyes. She even felt like she was living out her childhood dream of becoming a shepherdess.

“Phew.”

Andrea staggered under the weight of a water bucket she had filled by the river. Entering the stable, she poured the water into a wooden trough and spoke to the horses.

“The water’s all gone. You were thirsty, weren’t you? Drink up.”

The horse, seemingly pleased, snorted as Andrea stroked its cheek with her hand. Smiling brightly, she turned and pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders, stepping briskly across the field.

“Brr, it’s chilly.”

Just as she was about to step into the warm house, Andrea paused. Turning halfway, she took in the crimson evening sky and the village spread out below the hill. She murmured softly.

“The days are really getting shorter. The seasons will change soon.”

Andrea inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the crisp air. A faint smile faded from her face.

“Time really flies… almost unfairly so.”

It had already been ten days since she began living on the ranch. Though she had been able to stay comfortably thanks to the generosity of the homeowner, she couldn’t continue to impose indefinitely. Walking slowly along the fence, Andrea began contemplating her next steps.

Money wasn’t an immediate concern. She had brought a significant amount with her when she left the Marquis’s estate, just in case. She could find a small house nearby or travel around until she found a place to settle. Perhaps moving to a foreign country would be better.

Selling her jewelry could yield a substantial sum, but that was a matter for later. For now, it was too risky, as both the Marquis of Heathridge and Frederick Byron would undoubtedly be searching for her. Most of Andrea’s jewels were of the highest quality, making them easily traceable.

But Andrea’s true concerns weren’t practical ones. She had enough money to start a new life abroad and the skills to ensure she’d never go hungry. After all, her time in Rotten Street had taught her that survival was always possible with determination. As long as one had the will to live, they could always find a way.

Andrea whispered softly to herself, almost inaudibly.

“The will to survive. Determination…”

To survive, one needed only one thing: a reason to live. A purpose.

When she lived in Rotten Street, her reason had been to care for her sick mother. After her mother’s death, her longing to see Michael again had filled that void. Even after joining the Marquis’s household, it was Michael who had kept her going through her loneliness. The mere thought of being closer to him had been enough to make her decision to stay with the Marquis bearable.

“How foolish of me.”

Michael, Michael, Michael. It always came back to Michael. Andrea’s long eyelashes quivered.

“Even now…”

Closing her eyes tightly, Andrea felt her eyelids grow hot. She had tried so hard to suppress it. She had convinced herself that she had cut him out of her mind completely, as if carving him out with a knife. But the moment her thoughts drifted to Michael, her carefully contained emotions burst forth, spilling uncontrollably. Hot feelings surged within her, overwhelming her without warning.

“How can I still want to see him? I must be spineless.”

Andrea bit her lower lip hard. Pressing her cold fingertips against her burning eyelids, she tried to calm her turbulent emotions. She had cried enough over the past ten days. Sitting at the dining table with swollen eyes, wallowing in misery, was something she had resolved to stop. Even that was a burden on others.