Radilt spoke urgently. A carriage? The Duston family carriage was a luxurious one pulled by four horses. Even simple visits felt uncomfortable, but now he wanted to give her that splendid carriage outright.

“My feet will heal soon……”

“The sun is strong today.”

“……I’ll learn horseback riding.”

If she couldn’t walk in the sweltering summer heat drenched in sweat, and she didn’t want to accept a carriage, only one option remained. Despite the heaviness in her chest from the burden, Radilt looked at the mare with affectionate eyes.

“Serena. I’ll be in your care from now on.”

The horse nodded as if responding. Seeing this, a bright smile spread across Radilt’s lips. You’re so clever, she whispered lovingly.

“Well then, Mrs. Brill.”

Pointing to the saddle with a short riding crop, Pendlore said.

“First, try mounting the saddle.”

“Oh, yes.”

Radilt followed Pendlore’s instructions, going to the horse’s side and grabbing the saddle. Then she rolled her bewildered eyes. This was completely different from the mule she had ridden as a child. The saddle seemed at least twice as high.

She needed to step on the stirrup to mount, but it was much higher than expected. As Radilt couldn’t easily lift her leg and just wiggled her feet….

“……Ah!”

Pendlore lightly grabbed her waist and lifted her up. Her body rose high in the air. His deep voice reached her ears as she reflexively tried to struggle.

“Place your left foot in the stirrup and lift your right leg.”

“W-wait a moment—”

“Hold the front of the saddle with your hands. Yes, like that.”

Radilt awkwardly mounted the horse as instructed. Her field of vision suddenly elevated so much that she could look down on Pendlore’s head. Frightened, she tightly gripped the front of the saddle.

“Don’t, don’t move yet……”

“She’s a gentle horse. She won’t run unless you shout or kick her hard.”

“Shout…… I mean……”

“Shh, calm down and release your hands, then hold the reins.”

Radilt tried to let go of the saddle but trembled and froze in place. She felt an illusion of swaying.

“I feel like I’ll fall……”

“Serena is an intelligent horse. You needn’t worry unless you jump off yourself. If you do decide to jump, I’ll catch you.”

“As if I would jump, ah—”

A large, firm hand touched Radilt’s back supportively. It was a strong touch that could easily support her even if she leaned back completely.

An untrustworthy man. But simultaneously a trustworthy man.

Leaning against that hand, her racing heart gradually calmed. Radilt slowly released her grip on the saddle. Then she grasped the long, hanging reins.

“Well done. Keep them loose, not tight. Straighten your back and shoulders, bring your legs inward, like that. Feel as if you’re lightly embracing.”

Though his voice was gruff, it lacked any trace of rushing or blame, even conveying a hint of kindness. Detailed instructions continued, and Radilt corrected her posture according to Pendlore’s directions.

Once her body stabilized, she gained enough composure to lift her head and look around.

‘……Wow.’

The view from horseback was novel. Different from carriages or balconies. Not like climbing to a high place, but rather her own height had increased, opening up a broader field of vision.

It wasn’t a bad feeling. Honestly, it felt quite good.

“You seem ready. As long as you maintain your posture, you won’t fall, so rest assured, Mrs. Brill.”

“Yes……”

Radilt took a short deep breath. Pendlore firmly grasped one side of the hanging reins. Then he began walking slowly.

The docile mare obediently stepped forward. The moment the horse moved, Radilt’s body swayed unsteadily. Recalling Pendlore’s words, she tried to adjust to the swaying motion.

“Horses are sensitive animals. If the rider feels scared, they become anxious too.”

“……I think I’m fine now. Yes, I’m fine.”

Once somewhat accustomed to balancing in the saddle, Radilt turned her attention back to the surroundings. Smoothly painted fences, deep green vegetation beyond them. On one side of the riding ground, late spring white roses bloomed in full, showing off their fragrance.

Flutter, small birds rose from the ringleberry bushes. They circled in flocks through the deep blue sky before perching in a row on the edge of the pagoda roof.

The lovely tail end of spring. An afternoon with the most gentle sunshine of the year.

The horse’s movement, which initially felt rough, now became comfortable. When Radilt’s posture stabilized, Pendlore completely handed the reins over to her.

“She’s well-trained, so gently pulling will make her stop.”

Radilt softly pulled the reins as instructed. The hooves immediately stopped, standing in place. Good girl, Radilt whispered quietly.

“After practicing dismounting and mounting a few times, let’s try trotting.”

“What? W-wait a moment.”

Though she thought she had grown accustomed to the high horse back, when actually trying to dismount, the ground seemed dizzyingly far below. Pendlore didn’t rush her, calmly and repeatedly teaching her how to dismount. He held her waist as she fearfully descended, helping her land safely.

After several repetitions of mounting and dismounting, Radilt eventually managed to climb into the saddle by herself, albeit clumsily.

“Not bad for a first time.”

Radilt forcibly suppressed the smile that threatened to emerge at his blunt praise. She had been dragged here against her will to learn unnecessary horseback riding, so why should that single comment please her?

Her lips pressed firmly together, as if scolding her frivolous smile.

“Now slowly circle the riding ground once.”

“Alright.”

Radilt gently spurred the horse’s flank. Following the signal, Serena began walking. The trained mare circled along the fence without needing further instruction. The spring breeze, warm but still cool, tickled Radilt’s cheeks and nape.

After completing half a circle, the figure of the man standing at the starting point filled her green eyes. Standing straight like a milestone, silently waiting for her to reach him.

He gradually, slowly came closer. Radilt unconsciously tightened her grip on the reins. The wind grew slightly stronger. His black hair swayed slightly, brushing past Pendlore’s eyes. They closed momentarily before leisurely revealing that dark blue color again, the moment their eyes met just a few steps away.

Whoosh—

Radilt roughly pulled the reins. Unable to resist the impulse to flee, she twisted her arms and upper body dramatically.

“Ah!”

The mare was startled but didn’t bolt. She merely stopped abruptly and took large steps backward, but even that was enough to make Radilt’s body tilt precariously. The sky, now overcast, spun widely.

She’s falling. The moment she thought this, strong arms wrapped around her waist. Her body, sliding off the horse, buried deep into a broad chest, and the sounds of two heartbeats intermingled.

Silence. Racing hearts and slightly roughened breaths. The scraping sound of hooves on sand. Through the distant birdsong, Radilt saw her own hands strongly gripping the man’s shirt.

The soft fabric, completely crumpled with wrinkles spreading in all directions. Radilt stared blankly at those chaotic lines before hastily removing her hands. However, the large mark left directly over the left chest, right above the heart, remained.

Plop, plop—

Moisture seeped into the wind that seemed to be strengthening. Soon raindrops began to fall one by one. Cold droplets formed on both their bodies.

“It’s raining.”

Pendlore walked toward the pagoda while still carrying Radilt. The mare also slowly followed, taking shelter under a tree beside the pagoda.

“……Thank you.”

After a long delay, Radilt expressed her gratitude as she sat on a white, round chair. Pendlore’s shirt had become slightly wet from shielding her with his broad back against the rain. The wrinkled parts had straightened out, weighed down by moisture. Radilt’s handprints disappeared as if washed away.

Whoosh—

Soon the thickened raindrops began to pound fiercely in all directions. Both their gazes turned toward the sky simultaneously, as if by agreement. Gray cloud fragments were visible here and there, but the sky remained mostly clear blue.

“The rain will pass soon.”

Pendlore’s voice, almost a soliloquy, reached her ears. Late spring rain was capricious but equally brief. It was the kind of rain that typically passed before the ground could properly soak.

“……Yes. It will stop soon.”

“No need to go inside then.”

The fierce rain sounds quickly subsided. Radilt watched the weakly falling droplets from the roof’s edge. Even those soon stopped, and the scattered traces of rain glistened in the sunlight.

The briefly cooled air warmed again. With such good sunshine, the few remaining raindrops would disappear instantly. The sand in the riding ground had already half dried.

Just a passing spring rain. A weak, tender rain that wouldn’t leave traces for long.

“Mrs. Brill. Let’s continue.”

“Yes.”

The heart-fluttering sensation from just before the rain had been completely washed away. She felt perfectly normal, as if that excitement had never existed. Radilt rose at his call and walked over.

Unlike her initial fear, Radilt soon mastered trotting. She managed without difficulty to start the horse, change direction, and stop.

“Next time, we can prepare a side-saddle for women.”

To this stiff comment with a hint of praise, Radilt lightly replied that it was thanks to Sir Duston’s good teaching.

After finishing the riding lesson and having a simple meal, before boarding the carriage to return home, Radilt received a bouquet. It contained large, half-bloomed peonies. The promised bouquet, unfailingly given, nestled in her arms.

Radilt boarded the carriage surrounded by their sweet, clear fragrance. The carriage soon left the Duston mansion.

‘Not a trace of moisture.’

Though a brief rain had fallen during their meal, the road visible through the carriage window was dry and parched. Radilt leaned her head askew against the window and closed her eyes.

Everything would pass without leaving a trace. It had to pass.

She pushed away the tickling movement deep in her heart while imagining a winter night, silent as if the whole world had died.

Foolish sprout raising your head to shallow rain that won’t reach your roots. Late weed outside the greenhouse. What awaits you is only mercilessly dry scorching sun and rough, violent storms.

Therefore, it should never have sprouted from the beginning. That would have been the right thing.