A servant approached the soldier guarding the city gate and announced loudly. Commoners’ comings and goings were managed by soldiers. Even nobles in name only without territories were treated much the same.

That was why Radilt had also been checked by soldiers when she first entered the capital. She had to endure their openly suspicious and unfriendly gazes while standing awkwardly by the roadside.

But for the procession of an ancient noble family with territories and their family crest displayed in the Imperial Palace’s main hall, a knight approached. Instead of gesturing and calling out in a brusque voice, he came directly to the carriage and politely knocked on the door. Pendlore only needed to show his face through the window once.

“Sir Pendlore Duston, I beg your pardon.”

“You’re working hard.”

After this brief exchange, the carriage started moving again. Beyond the city gate, the well-maintained road continued. Middle Rivelura, a hunting ground for nobles, lay at its end.

Middle Rivelura was the forest closest to the city gates. This moderately spacious forest, crossed by a clear stream and thick with trees, was carefully maintained by foresters supported by the nobility.

They released easy-to-hunt and safe animals like deer, rabbits, foxes, and pheasants, while periodically killing or driving away dangerous beasts like wolves and wild boars.

Though this artificial management made it unpopular among those who enjoyed proper hunting, one could hardly find a more suitable place for a light suburban outing.

Several charming villas stood in the fields adjoining the forest entrance. With a large main kitchen to prepare meals for the nobles and rest areas for servants, it was a place where one could always encounter groups of visitors.

The Duston house carriage stopped in front of one of these villas. Immediately, servants began busily unloading luggage.

Since hardly anyone stayed overnight, the villa had a simple structure with one small bedroom and a spacious terrace. Instead, there was ample space for stables and carriages beside it.

The servants covered the terrace chairs with cushions and covers and spread embroidered cloth over the tables. Water boiled in the auxiliary kitchen, and pre-prepared refreshments were served alongside flowers. Each movement was quick and skillful.

After everything was prepared, the door of the carriage carrying Radilt and Pendlore opened. Stepping onto the grass, Radilt looked around and suddenly shrank her shoulders.

In the distance, colorful parasols moved slowly along the decorated walkway across the field. They were elegantly dressed noblewomen engaged in pleasant conversation. Nearby, men on horseback moved slowly as well.

Not merely nobles in name who barely maintained their titles like the Sentangs family, but real nobles with wealth and power like the Duston family. Young men and women leisurely enjoying a suburban outing.

Surely they won’t come this way. Radilt anxiously climbed onto the terrace.

“The forest here is good for horseback riding.”

Pendlore said while locking the box containing the reports and handing it to a servant.

“The paths are well maintained so even beginners can travel safely.”

“I see. Shall we depart right away then?”

Radilt wanted to quickly mount her horse and enter the forest. Then she wouldn’t have to encounter those people. Contrary to her urgency, Pendlore was unhurried. A servant approached and poured freshly boiled tea into cups.

“However, foxes or deer might suddenly jump out and startle the horses, so you must be careful.”

“……Yes. I’ll be careful.”

Bang—

The faint sound of gunfire came from far away. A flock of birds could be seen rising above the thick trees. Pendlore took a sip of tea and continued his explanation.

“As a precaution, forest areas are separately allocated. If you don’t leave your designated area, there’s almost no chance of being hit by a stray bullet.”

“I know that when entering a forest with hunters, one should wear bright-colored markers.”

Being from the countryside, Radilt was well aware of forest precautions. Pendlore elegantly curved his eyes in a smile.

“You know well. Excellent. With your attire, even if you get lost, you’ll be easily found.”

“……Yes. I suppose so.”

In a forest with separately designated areas, there would be even less chance of meeting other visitors. Just as Radilt was anxiously turning her head toward the forest, wondering when they would begin their horseback ride….

‘……Ah.’

She noticed a group of people approaching. A young lady skillfully mounted on a side-saddle caught Radilt’s eye and smiled brightly.

“Greetings, Sir Duston!”

A young man at the front greeted them cheerfully and jumped off his horse. Approaching the terrace railing, he bowed his head.

“To think I’d see you in this childish playground of a forest. Ah, I am Artro Chantiel, second son of Viscount Chantiel.”

Following him, other young men and women who had also dismounted introduced themselves. They were all noble youths around twenty years of age. Being about ten years younger than Pendlore and not having inherited titles, they were all respectful and polite.

Pendlore acknowledged the greetings of these young people with just a slight nod of his head, without even standing up. Unlike the composed Pendlore, Radilt fidgeted uncomfortably, watching people’s reactions.

Though she was Count Duston’s lover, that was all—they weren’t married or even engaged. Widowed from Baron Sentangs and without children, she was essentially a commoner.

Eventually, Radilt rose from her seat. She slightly bowed her head toward the noble youths.

“I am…… Radilt Brill.”

Her faintly trembling voice settled over the terrace. The response was an awkward silence. Brightly dressed young ladies exchanged uncomfortable glances. The young men also pretended not to hear Radilt’s words.

In that subtle atmosphere, Radilt’s cheeks turned pale. Had she made a mistake? Or was this a place where someone who wasn’t a noble shouldn’t have intruded?

Pendlore’s low voice rescued the stiffly frozen Radilt.

“Please be seated, Mrs. Brill.”

Like a novice puppy receiving permission from its trusted master, Radilt immediately sat down. Her hands unconsciously clenched tightly together. Her gaze, unable to be raised, pointed toward the teacup on the table.

“Mrs. Brill is still inexperienced in such settings, so let’s postpone longer conversations for next time. The second son is dedicated just like the first; Viscount Chantiel must be very proud. Please convey my regards to your father.”

“Yes, Sir Duston. Have a pleasant time.”

The young people mounted their horses again and returned to their villa. Radilt was still breathing shallowly with a pale complexion. Pendlore addressed her in an intentionally gentle tone.

“I thought that having once been Baron Sentangs’ wife, you would have basic knowledge, but my hasty assumption has embarrassed you.”

“……No. Even with a title, in reality…… there wasn’t much difference from being a commoner.”

Seeing Radilt downplaying her former husband’s position, Pendlore explained with an even softer attitude.

“In society, women generally follow the position of the man they accompany. The only exceptions are family and the imperial family.”

Women of the imperial family remain the most noble ladies even if they hold a slave’s hand. Otherwise, unless they are family, women’s treatment varies according to the men beside them. For this reason, recently it wasn’t uncommon for noblewomen to go about alone.

“Therefore, Mrs. Brill, you need not bow your head to young ones without titles. Not while standing by my side.”

A woman personally escorted by Count Duston deserves treatment worthy of a countess. Radilt bit her lower lip and quietly nodded.

In truth, she didn’t want to know such things in detail. She wished to remain forever ignorant. These were matters of a distant world unconnected to her. She hoped she would never need to set foot in it, now or in the future.

“Please don’t make such a pitiful face.”

Pendlore rose from his seat with a low laugh. His shadow enveloped Radilt’s entire body.

“It wasn’t a major mistake.”

A generous voice, a generous expression. Radilt stared blankly at his outstretched hand. This wasn’t her place. The thought suddenly struck her strongly, but she had no choice but to take Pendlore’s hand.

Pulling Radilt close to his side as she stood up, Pendlore whispered softly.

“Now let’s verify what I’ve taught you so far.”

Pendlore seemed quite pleased. His cold eyes, which usually revealed little of his inner thoughts and observed others expressionlessly, maintained a gentle curve throughout.

He personally brought Serena’s reins and placed them in Radilt’s hand, then waited below until she mounted safely. Then he skillfully mounted his own horse.

Pendlore’s manner of pulling the reins to change his horse’s direction was disciplined and dignified. Even if he wore a shabby beggar’s robe to hide his elegant appearance, one could guess from his perfect posture alone that he was some excellent nobleman out in disguise.

Looking at the back of such a man, Radilt affectionately stroked the mare’s neck. Serena shook her head slightly in response, lightening Radilt’s heavy heart somewhat.

Yes. Now that they were entering the forest, at least there would be no other people.

Radilt clicked her tongue to signal the horse. Serena followed the black horse ahead with clip-clopping steps.

The forest air was cooler than outside. The dense late spring branches blocked the sunlight, casting mottled deep shadows. Walking along the well-trimmed path gradually improved Radilt’s darkened mood.

The rich smell of grass. The scent of wildflowers wafting from somewhere. The smell of wet moss tickled her nose, suggesting a stream nearby.

Whoosh—