Snort, came the sound of the mare’s protest. Hooves scratched the ground. A faint crack appeared on the expressionless man’s face.

“……Damn it.”

A low curse was uttered, directed at who knows whom.

Troublesome woman, foolish woman. Stupid woman who couldn’t let go of her long-dead husband.

Plop.

A cold droplet fell onto Pendlore’s face. It rolled down his cheek below his chin, then another plop, pitter-patter.

Rain was falling.

Pendlore clicked his tongue briefly, then ran in the direction Radilt had disappeared.

“Mrs. Brill!”

His deep shout echoed through the dampening forest.

“Radilt Brill!”

The sound of rain grew harsh. Even though it was spring rain that would soon stop, at this moment it soaked his entire body heavily like a midsummer storm. Water collected on leaves flowed down along the dense tree trunks where horses could hardly enter, carrying the damp forest scent.

Splash, splash.

With each step, the squelching sound struck his ears. The wet soil and slick grass made it easy to slip. The heels of women’s shoes would slide even more easily. Yet where on earth had she gone?

A deep line etched between Pendlore’s brows. Running fearlessly into a pathless forest. She truly was a foolish woman who couldn’t even take care of herself. Moreover, this wasn’t the first time. Why should he search for and embrace someone who repeatedly ran toward difficult terrain, leaving the easy path behind, causing suffering to herself?

Raindrops cooled the man’s heated neck. His head also cooled down. Pendlore suddenly recalled his own appearance, treading the muddy path and pushing through the grass.

What a pathetic thing to do.

Perhaps infected by that woman, he was doing something ridiculous.

Pendlore’s hand rubbed his wet face and hair. His vision blurred momentarily, then brightened again.

Let’s stop.

What would he do with a woman who rejected him and ran away? This forest wasn’t particularly dangerous nor very large. She would return on her own once she calmed down. And.

Let’s end it here.

Right after he had decided on this conclusion in his mind, Pendlore’s settled breath was roughly drawn in again. A red shoe fallen among the grass leaves caught his eye. His halted feet stepped forward again.

“Mrs. Brill.”

It was a round, shallow pit. A sunny spot carpeted densely and softly with short light green grass.

Like a small bird settling into its nest, Radilt was curled up inside. Collapsed helplessly, she shed endless tears silently.

The rain had stopped and the sky cleared. Almost as though it had been waiting, sunlight filtered through the clouds and enveloped the wild grass nest. Her thoroughly wet green eyes were tinged with a pale transparency, sparkling with a fleeting poignancy that seemed about to disappear.

Shoes slipped off. A dress soiled and wrinkled with dirt. Disheveled, damp hair. A body shivering pitifully, soaked in rain. A face reddened and marred from crying and crying.

Such a mess of a woman was pitiably beautiful.

She seemed like she would vanish hopelessly if not grabbed immediately. She contained a heart-piercing charm that would compel anyone to instinctively reach out, embrace, and comfort her.

Pendlore resisted that temptation for a brief moment. But he couldn’t refuse for long.

He jumped into the grass-colored nest. Trampling the wet weeds with his muddy feet, he lifted Radilt. Her cold, weakened movement fluttered briefly.

“……Let go……”

Her hoarse voice couldn’t even properly utter words of refusal. Radilt’s fist struck Pendlore’s shoulder. Her powerless struggle, which caused neither pain nor even tickling, didn’t last long. Soon her tired body went limp.

“Hic……”

After a few small sobs, her green eyes dropped their final tear and slowly closed. Completely drained of strength, Radilt fell asleep like she had fainted. Pendlore quietly looked down at the woman in his arms.

“……Sob……”

With a faint sound, Radilt curled up tightly against Pendlore’s chest. Her wet body instinctively sought warmth. Pendlore’s tight lips momentarily relaxed at the pale hand clinging to him.

“Really…… you require so much attention.”

And she wasn’t even a child, but a woman who had even been married once.

Pendlore turned his body. As he retraced his steps, Radilt fell into a deep sleep, becoming quiet as death. The heartbeat transmitted through their skin, separated only by clothing, grew so faint that Pendlore suddenly lowered his head to check her breathing.

Her breath, so thin it seemed about to break, was nevertheless definitely reaching Pendlore’s lips. Softly, slightly hot.

The lips from which that breath escaped were slightly parted, almost revealing their bright red interior.

If he quietly placed his inside, would it be warm? Since even her small breath held warmth, surely its source would be even more heated. Wouldn’t it embrace him with a pleasant warmth?

Checking wouldn’t be difficult. He just needed to lower his head a little more and lightly collide before pushing his way in. The woman wandering in deep dreams would surrender her interior completely without putting up any proper resistance.

Pendlore exhaled briefly. Their breaths seemed to mingle as they passed by each other.

And again, a wet sound was heard. With each step, the waterlogged ground squelched. Resuming his momentarily halted walk, Pendlore stood before the two horses waiting patiently. After briefly setting Radilt down on a chair, he tied Serena’s reins to Shtor’s saddle. Then, when he picked Radilt up again, she burrowed into his embrace as though she had been waiting. Pendlore couldn’t hold back a laugh. His coldly frozen expression completely relaxed.

“……You’re cute when asleep.”

If only she would always behave this docilely, it would be comfortable for both of them.

He mounted his horse and spurred out of the forest. Drying raindrops fell onto the empty space.

Radilt dreamed. It was a dream of an old but warm house.

White frost on the windows suggested it was a winter day. Water boiled bubbling on the brightly burning stove. A hand-knitted wool cover wrapped the sofa, and tiny toes wiggled on top of it.

A child playfully laughing, wrapped in a white wool blanket.

Boy or girl, it didn’t matter—just a healthy child. With chubby, rosy cheeks and clear, sparkling large eyes.

A little Sentangs.

Crash—!

But suddenly the window shattered.

Whoosh—the snowstorm rushed in, making the stove fire flicker out, and in the living room, the sofa grew colder and colder.

In that cold, Radilt stood alone. The flesh-cutting wind lashed her entire body, but she stood rooted to the spot, unable to go anywhere.

I have nowhere to go.

Because this house is my home. Even if all warmth disappeared without a trace, even if only the storm’s whipping struck the frozen air. Because this was her only home.

She exhaled long, long breaths. The breathing that was difficult at first gradually became comfortable. Her entire body grew languid, like floating on warm water.

Rustle, the faint sound of paper brushing against fingers came. Rhythmically again rustle, rustle, rustle.

Occasionally mixed in were sounds of glass and metal colliding. The sound of a pen nib sliding across paper.

Those strangely comforting sounds became increasingly clear, and Radilt slowly opened her eyes.

Her surroundings were dim. She blinked, relying on the reddish light shining from far away.

A high ceiling with shadows creeping in. A soft blanket wrapping her body and a cozy, wide bed. By her ear, a pillow stuffed with goose down rustled.

Was she still dreaming?

Unable to get her bearings, Radilt quietly lifted one arm. The thin sleeve of her nightgown slid down, revealing her forearm glowing white in the darkness. Ah.

“You’re awake.”

It was a low, deep voice. The moment it reached her ears, Radilt bolted upright.

“Wh-where is…!”

Pendlore sat at a brightly lit desk. The quill in his hand moved across the paper. The room was so large that the desk light barely flickered near the bed. Though they seemed divided into two spaces, they were clearly in the same room.

She had slept in the same space as that man.

Radilt’s chest grew cold inside. Her back chilled with goosebumps. As she hurriedly got out of bed, her eyes caught the darkened window. Beyond the half-drawn curtains, it was pitch black without a single point of light.

No way.

Her already cold heart froze even harder.

“The time now, is…! Don’t tell me the sun……”

“Set long ago.”

Pendlore said calmly.

“It’s a little past 10 o’clock. You must be hungry since you’ve been asleep without eating anything.”

10 PM. Her mother-in-law would already have gone to bed by now. Radilt looked around in complete confusion.

“Please give me my clothes! I need to go home right away!”

“I naturally sent someone to inform your household.”

“……What?”

“There’s nothing strange about it.”

Pendlore turned his upper body slightly toward Radilt while placing his quill in the glass inkwell. Then he continued.

“Mature lovers spending the night together.”

“……!”

Radilt’s face turned deathly pale. Mature man and woman spending the night together. The implication was clear.

Radilt wrapped her trembling arms around herself. The thin fabric felt chilling beneath her palms. Pendlore, who had been quietly watching her unable to utter a word, spoke again.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Brill. I didn’t lay a finger on your body. The maids did everything—cleaning your wet body and changing your soiled clothes.”

Rustle, long fingers turned a page. Pendlore’s gaze shifted to the black letters continuing across the white paper.