By now, the letter I’d sent to Claude should have arrived. I circled the date on the calendar, counting the days again just to be sure.

‘Maybe he’s reading it right now.’

The thought made my heart flutter, and I reached out to brush the leaf of a potted plant on my desk. Dust scattered into the air, casting soft shadows like tiny snowflakes.

‘Will he write back right away?’

No—
I quickly quieted my swelling hopes. Claude would be incredibly busy handling all the estate affairs he’d neglected for so long.

I never imagined that waiting could be so difficult.

I sighed and flicked one of the long, delicate leaves with my finger. Then I turned to the bookshelf and pulled out my Awenzean language textbook.

There was no better way to pass the time.

These days, I could hold a decent conversation with most people.

According to Aiden, I was ‘a once-in-a-century linguistic genius’.

I chuckled, remembering the way he’d said it.

To be honest, Awenzean grammar was nothing like Azentan, so it had been a real challenge.

‘Maybe I really am good with languages.’

I was still smiling at the silly idea when, instead of opening the book, I opened the drawer.

There was something I always did before studying or reading.

Inside were the letters that Claude had sent me; several of them were now stacked neatly together.

Whenever I missed him, I would take one out and read it again.

I had read them so many times that the paper had become glossy with wear.

I opened the topmost envelope and drew out its contents. His steady handwriting greeted me.

[Diana, spring is arriving here. It’ll take some time for the warmth to settle in, but still…]
[Last night, it rained. After so many long days of snow, the rain didn’t feel so bad.]

I used to think his penmanship looked cold and rigid, but now… it felt gentle.

Just imagining what he must’ve been thinking while writing these words made my lips curl into a smile.

[Today, early spring flowers bloomed all over the little garden you used to love at the manor.]
[I clipped a few daffodils and placed them in the vase on my desk.]

I’d read this letter more times than I could count, but that part still made me laugh out loud.

Claude—putting flowers in a vase? I could barely picture it.

[Then Hans asked me, “Which maid dared to mess with the vase in the Duke’s study?” When I told him it was me, he looked like he was about to faint.]

Hans had always taken charge of the plants in the study. Just imagining the scene made me burst into quiet laughter again.

Sometimes, I missed Claude so much that it hurt, but I had chosen to embrace the wait.

This time apart would nourish and strengthen our bond. Or so I believed.

As I reached for the next letter, coffee in hand, the doorbell rang.

‘Who could that be?’

I set my cup down.

I wasn’t expecting anyone. Maybe it was Aiden? Or maybe it was a reply from Claude arriving earlier than expected.

Knowing how often I peeked into the mailbox, maybe the postman had come to deliver it directly.

It wouldn’t surprise me.

My heart pounding with anticipation, I rose from my seat in the study and made my way to the front door.

I turned the handle and pulled it open.

Sunlight poured in through the opening. It was midday, and the light was so bright that I had to raise my hand to shield my eyes.

The first thing I saw through the gaps in my fingers was a large bouquet of flowers.

‘Flowers?’

Puzzled, I slowly lowered my hand. I blinked repeatedly at the unbelievable sight in front of me.

There stood Claude. He was holding a massive basket overflowing with flowers and had a warm smile on his face.

“You… How did you…”

He looked incredible. Nothing about him had changed, yet he had never seemed more handsome to me.

I couldn’t speak. My lips moved, but no sound came out.

Claude gently set the basket beside me. It was almost as tall as I was, bursting with flowers of every color.

“Diana, I came because I missed you.”

“…”

“As for work—things will be fine for a little while.”

‘I miss you so much.’

Oh. I’d never written that phrase before because I was worried it might weigh on him. But my last letter had struck a chord.

Had he crossed an entire continent on the strength of that single line?

Dumbfounded, I tipped my head back to look at him. Even from this angle, he was flawless.

“I took care of the most urgent matters before I left.”

He added, as though offering an awkward excuse. Seeing him try to explain made me laugh. I was so stunned that I could only gape in silence.

Claude opened his arms, clearly inviting me in.

The realisation that the man I had only ever known through letters was now standing before me hit me like a cresting wave. I could hear him, touch him, and see him. The truth finally settled in.

I flew straight into his embrace. Tears spilled from my eyes, but I didn’t care. I clung to him with all my strength, and he held me tightly as if he had waited an eternity.

“How did you get here so suddenly without saying a word?”

“The moment I read the line you wrote, I started running.”

When I laughed, Claude laughed too.

The sensation of him being close to me still felt surreal. Without thinking, I ran my fingers across his chest. Claude cleared his throat.

“The front step is… perhaps not ideal.”

“Sorry?”

“Instead—”

He bent closer. Sunlight slipped behind his hair, casting a soft shadow over us both. I understood and smiled.

Even though our lips were touching, quiet laughter escaped us both. A sweet fragrance drifted from the flowers beside us.

Finally, I pressed a hand to his chest and broke off the kiss.

“People will see us.”

“Ah—I didn’t think of that.”

With a playful grin, Claude pulled the door open just enough for us to squeeze through, keeping one arm snugly around my waist. In an instant, he guided me inside.

“We still need to bring that flower basket in…”

“They grew outdoors—so they’ll be fine for a little while.”

He chuckled, tightening his arm around my waist. The door clicked shut behind us, scattering the light in a shower of gold, and I melted into his arms with a laugh of my own.

“Oh—let me take back that ‘little while.’”
“Pardon?”

Before I could reply, he kissed me. Claude’s only response was to pull me closer with a firm, steady grip.

The familiar scent of him, coupled with the soft brush of his breath against my cheek, coaxed a quiet laugh from my lips, which disappeared between us. I wound my arms around his neck and the once gentle kiss deepened, becoming slow and deliberate.

Yet it was only me who was gasping for air. I wriggled to steal a breath through the tiniest gap. Simply holding his mouth to mine was overwhelming. Then, Claude’s hands slid to my waist and lifted me clean off the floor.

I squeaked and clutched his shoulders, but he just kept walking, his smile never fading. From this new height, he looked impossibly handsome.

“C-Claude, where are you taking me?”

“Who can say?”

He replied, striding on with playful nonchalance. He seemed to know the layout of my cottage better than I did. The thought made heat flare in my cheeks.

“So your bedroom is this way?”
“…I-I’m not sure.”

It felt as though I were floating on a cloud, being carried along like this. The door shut behind us with a bright little click.

And, amidst a strangely gentle winter, everything felt warm.