The sharp, indignant voice belonged to Lady Nora.

“Wait a moment! How can you just leave like that?”

Why had she come all the way here when she wasn’t even a kitchen maid?

Sveta prayed desperately that Lady Nora wouldn’t come around to the back of the wagon.

“I told you earlier,” the merchant replied curtly.

“But the oranges are in poor condition!”

Despite the merchant’s reluctant response, Lady Nora’s voice rang loud and clear.

‘What if this draws everyone here…?’

A surge of panic tightened Sveta’s chest.

She pulled her knees up and buried her face between them, hiding herself as much as she could.

“Now see here. We only deliver what we receive. As you know, during the rainy season the quality can’t help but decline…”

The merchant trailed off, but Lady Nora cut him off without mercy.

“Even so. These are for our young lady. Bring better ones.”

“……”

“Here. Take this extra money.”

The merchant’s mood visibly improved as he pocketed the coins. With forced generosity, he said,

“Of course. No matter how much the House of Count Fittel presses me, the ducal house comes first. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“And you say that now?”

“With the rainy season nearly over, I’ll make sure to bring better ones next time.”

“See that you do. Our young lady is so terribly thin…”

“There you go again! I’ve heard more than enough about your young lady. Spare me! Anyone listening would think she was your own daughter.”

The merchant spoke as though weary of the exchange, yet in the end, Lady Nora extracted a promise.

Sveta thought of the oranges that Lady Nora had brought her.

They had given her the strength to get out of bed on dreary mornings. Sometimes, they had even eased her loneliness.

‘Why did I only realize this now?’

She had never realized that these fruits were obtained with so much effort.

Something surged upwards, burning her throat.

With reddened eyes, she listened to Lady Nora’s voice.

“I must never forget this warmth.”

Focusing on that familiar tone helped her to suppress the swell of sorrow.

“She’s as precious to me as a daughter!”

“All right, all right. Next time I’ll bring only the finest. I promise.”

“See that you do!”

After issuing her final warning, Lady Nora disappeared into the kitchen. Shortly afterwards, the sound of the merchant counting his coins could be heard.

“Hm-hm-hm…”

Accompanied by the sound of the man’s cheerful humming, the wagon lurched forward once more.

Only when it reached the uneven dirt road did Sveta slowly and carefully lift her head.

The ducal estate had already shrunk into the distance at the edge of her vision.

She had always believed that she was unhappy there. And yet, even in that place, she had experienced brief moments of joy with the people she loved.

Dongle. Lady Nora. And—

“…Aiden.”

It was the first time she had said his name out loud.

Her heart melted.

Mud splashed up from the wet ground and stuck to her cheek. She wiped it away with her apron and buried her face in her knees once more.

***

The fruit merchant’s wagon had just emerged from the narrow path behind the ducal estate.

At that very moment, more than a dozen mounted knights thundered through the estate’s massive front gates.

The Duke of Strilland himself was riding at the front of the group, his golden cloak billowing behind him.

It was an early return.

After dismounting, Aiden strode past the servants lined up to welcome him, not sparing them a single glance.

He moved without hesitation towards his mistress’s chambers.

The moment he entered the yellow-carpeted corridor, Pailin sprang out from behind a pillar and bowed deeply.

“You have returned.”

Aiden answered with a slight tilt of his head.

“She?”

“She is inside.”

He reached for the doorknob.

“Y-Your Grace—!”

The breathless voice of his aide rang out.

Dennis came running from the far end of the corridor, his face flushed and his manner unusually animated.

Aiden regarded him coolly.

“What is it?”

Without pausing to catch his breath, Dennis cried out,

“We—we’ve finally found Jace Gould!”

“…Jace Gould.”

As the duke repeated the name of his sworn enemy, a lethal glint flashed in his green eyes.

***

At the first bridge over the Brimiya River, a dilapidated wagon stopped.

A woman wearing a tatty maid’s uniform hesitated before stepping down from the back.

Glancing at the crowded bridge, she pressed herself close to the railing to avoid the carriages rushing past.

After scanning the riverbank for some time, she finally spotted what she was looking for.

“Ah… that must be him.”

A small boat. A gaunt man.

Just as Beth had told her, the boatman had a red cord tied around his arm.

After confirming this, Sveta hurried towards him.

She had almost reached the end of the bridge when a carriage suddenly emerged from behind her.

One massive wheel swept past her at terrifyingly close range.

For a split second, the memory of her previous carriage accident flashed vividly before her eyes.

Startled, Sveta stumbled forward.

“Ah—!”

Her knees scraped against the ground, tearing her skin.

Blood welled up over the sharp line of bone. Roughly wiping it away with the hem of her skirt, she pressed her palms against the ground and pushed herself up.

At that moment, a pair of polished brown shoes came into view between her hands.

“I thought that uniform looked familiar… Aren’t you a maid from the House of Strilland?”

The gentle voice above her was familiar.

Unable to lift her head, she remained frozen to the spot.

Hazel’s tone softened with concern.

“You look hurt. I was just heading back—shall I give you a ride?”

“……”

She just shook her head.

She knew how suspicious that must seem. But she had no other choice.

In that moment, even his well-meaning interference seemed cruel.

“Why are you trembling like that? Did you injure yourself badly?”

Hazel bent down. Her slender figure was cast in shadow.

Her black hair was disheveled and streaked with pale mud. She looked so pitiful that he felt guilty for having driven his carriage so recklessly.

“Mmm. It doesn’t look like you were struck.”

“……”

“You could at least answer—”

As Hazel crouched to get a better look at her face, he saw—

Her.

The woman his younger brother was obsessed with. The adopted daughter of Baron Luce.

“You…”

When she finally stood up, the corners of her eyes were flushed like overripe peaches.

Looking oddly aggrieved, she bit down on her full lips. Her teeth were strikingly pretty and pearl white.

A strand of black hair slipped across her rounded forehead.

“You seem to have dyed your hair…”

What was the point of her hair? And why was she dressed as a maid and standing here?

Hazel’s curious gaze travelled over her.

She remained silent, either carefully choosing her words or simply too slow to respond.

It was hard to believe that Aiden had tolerated this sluggishness time and time again.

“Viscount, please.”

At last, she spoke.

“Please let me go.”

The audacity of it was almost amusing.

Hazel had grown bored with the quiet monotony of life in Renan. This sudden, dramatic encounter intrigued him.

“Are you running away?”

“…Yes.”

“You think that by answering so honestly, I’ll let you pass?”

“……”

Hazel crossed his arms, leaned back slightly and tilted his head in a playful air of arrogance, his broad shoulders visible.

Seeing this, Sveta looked utterly confused.

She had never been good at telling the difference between jest and sincerity.

Perhaps that was why she suited the stoic Aiden so well.

Hazel abandoned his teasing and his voice turned more serious.

“Running away? Don’t you love Aiden?”

“I do… but the duke does not love me.”

“What?”

She was slow in more ways than one. This woman clearly lacked awareness, too.

It was absurd — and, in a way, endearing.

Hazel had always sought out easy love affairs, in keeping with his reputation as a grand libertine. This situation, however, felt refreshingly new.

He was amused, too, by the fact that Aiden was caught up in something so tumultuous.

‘If that fool finds out, how frantic will he be? And how desperately will he try to hide it?’

The mere thought delighted him.

Laughter threatened to escape his lips, but he suppressed it.

He didn’t want to laugh in front of a woman whose eyes were full of sorrow.

Clearing his throat to hide his amusement, Hazel said, in an exaggerated tone of regret.

“I was hoping you’d endure it to the end, by Aiden’s side.”

“……”

“Where are you headed? Shall I give you a ride?”

“What?”

Her large eyes lifted toward him.

Whenever he offered kindness, they widened just a little more. She looked painfully naïve.

‘Yes. That arrogant brat needs to suffer a little.’

He needed time to understand how precious what he possessed truly was.

Unaware of Hazel’s private reasoning, Sveta shook her head firmly.

“No. The carriage would draw too much attention.”

“Ah. I did choose a rather conspicuous carriage. My son is inside.”

“……”

“What a pity. Is this farewell?”

Her gaze drifted slowly over Hazel’s straight brows, green eyes, and red lips—as though reluctant to let go.

In a voice trembling like a faint breeze, she said,

“…I hope you’ll be happy.”

“Ha—ha!”

Despite her efforts to hold it back, Hazel finally burst into laughter.

Hearing this, Sveta couldn’t help but smile faintly.

Here was a foolish woman, standing there in such a pitiful state, yet still wishing happiness upon someone else.

Hazel liked her even more because of it.

Even as she ran away, she managed a polite smile.

With genuine sincerity, he said.

“I believe those words are meant more for you than for me. I wish you luck.”

“Thank you, Viscount.”

After nodding her head in a small bow, she walked away.

Whether she had twisted her ankle or not, she was walking unsteadily. However, she managed to move further and further away from him.

“Though you’ll be caught soon enough.”

Hazel murmured under his breath, but did not turn away until he saw her step into the small boat.

Only then did he climb back into his carriage.