Ines first met him when she was ten. It was the first time she had left the house with her father and she was excited.

Her father, who had never shown her affection or spoken to her kindly, was unusually gentle that day. Because of this, her heart fluttered and she could hardly keep still the whole time.

They went to the estate of the Duke of Reinhardt.

The magnificent entrance to the only ducal residence in the Romarin Empire was so impressive that she could not take her eyes off it. She had no idea why they were there, but she was simply happy that her father was holding her hand.

The room they arrived at was filled with children around Ines’s age, including herself. While the children looked around the lavishly decorated reception room with wide-eyed curiosity, the adults fixed their gaze on the door, which was about to open. They could not conceal the greed in their eyes.

At last, the ornate doors opened and the duchess entered, accompanied by a boy. His name was Lucien de Reinhardt — the only dominant Alpha in the Romarin Empire and heir to the estate.

Everyone offered their greetings with proper decorum. Following her father’s lead, Ines awkwardly bowed before straightening up again.

In that moment, her gaze met a pair of eyes as beautiful as sapphire. She had no idea how long he had been watching her, but Lucien was staring so intently it felt almost blatant.

Without hesitation, he walked straight up to Ines and asked boldly,

“What’s your name?”

“…I am Ines de Silverdust, my lord.”

“Really? Do you like chess?”

“I’ve never played before…”

“What? You don’t even know how to play chess?”

At the scolding tone, Ines found her eyes welling with tears before she could stop herself.

“I’m sorry…”

“Why are you crying? Ah, stop crying. I’ll teach you.”

Lucien, who had been staring at the tears trickling down her cheeks, spoke curtly yet tried to console her.

Out of all the children there, he took only Ines’s hand and disappeared into his room. Flustered by his obvious interest, Ines could only follow, while her father smiled so widely it seemed his mouth might split apart.

It was only later that she understood what that gathering had been. Most of the attendees were children of viscounts or barons, and the duchess had arranged the meeting to select her son’s future right-hand companions.

Although it was not the place to find a spouse, her father had harboured a foolish dream. Back then, Lucien was accompanied only by Inès.

How could she not, then, fall into an equally foolish misunderstanding?

⬤ ⬤ ⬤ ⬤ ⬤ ⬤

“Miss Silverdust, here’s the list of items that need to be restocked in the office.”

“Yes, I’ll replenish them right away.”

The aide who had come to the storage room handed Ines a sheet of paper before leaving. She quickly began moving about the storeroom, searching for the items written on the list and setting them aside.

After graduating from the academy, Ines had planned to work at a bank. But at Lucien’s words—“Why would you work anywhere other than for our house?”—she became the steward in charge of managing the Reinhardt family’s storeroom supplies.

Having spent more time in the Duke of Reinhardt’s estate than in her own home since meeting him at the age of ten, she knew every corner of the place. That familiarity allowed her to excel as the storeroom manager.

Even so, because it was a position she had taken at Lucien’s suggestion, she couldn’t help but remain a little self-conscious. So she worked all the harder.

In the middle of retrieving items, she heard the storeroom door burst open. She peeked her head out to see one of the maids she often encountered striding in with an annoyed expression.

“Why are you still here? The master is already out in the garden!”

“Is it that time already…?”

Ines pulled a pocket watch from her dress and checked. Lucien always had tea at three in the afternoon, and he always summoned her to join him—so she immediately understood why the maid had come.

“Just a moment, I’ll be finished as soon as I get this down.”

“Honestly, you’re so frustrating! Are you going to make the master wait for you?”

The maid, standing by the entrance, came over to where Ines was perched halfway up a ladder. With an irritated gesture, she began shaking it roughly.

“Hey, wait—”

“I said get down! Now!”

“…”

The dangerous swaying kept her from climbing down, and with a sharp exhale through her nose, the maid sneered.

“Do you only listen when it’s shown to you? Who do you think you are, making the master wait?”

“I’ll go on my own, so please… leave.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. If you’re late, I’m the one who’ll be scolded—so why should I care? Ah, hurry up and come down! Or should I give it another shake for you?”

The maid, having just been reprimanded by the head maid for slacking off, now wore a spiteful smile, clearly intending to take her frustration out on Ines.

Though she was of noble birth, Ines had neither real power nor authority, making her an easy target for the servants.

As the maid gripped the ladder again, she suddenly froze when her eyes met Ines’s golden gaze.

The woman before her had a delicate, pure air—so beautiful she could have been mistaken for a porcelain doll if she didn’t speak. Her expression was often just as doll-like, enough to give people chills at times.

Just like now.

Avoiding Ines’s quiet, unwavering stare, the maid muttered inwardly, Ah… one step further, and I’ll cross the line she’s drawn.

She remembered something a former maid had once told her before quitting—if you made the mistake of thinking Ines was just a powerless doll, you’d pay for it dearly. That same faintly chilling air was present now.

Quickly releasing the ladder, the maid tossed out her words in haste.

“Whatever. I passed on the message!”

She hurried out of sight.

Watching her go, Ines forced down the dark emotion that slowly rose from deep within her as she climbed down from the ladder.

It wasn’t the first time the servants of the Duke of Reinhardt’s estate had treated her so high-handedly. When she was younger, they had at least shown her respect as Lucien’s close friend. She had once loved this place so much she had wanted to stay here forever.

But over time, their gazes had changed. She still didn’t know exactly why, though she could guess well enough.

They must have thought her, the daughter of a mere viscount, bold enough to set her sights on Lucien.

And truthfully, they weren’t entirely wrong—her feelings for him, kindled when she was ten, had never faded. If anything, they had only burned more steadily over the years.

Of course, she never once thought about becoming the duchess. The idea was absurd; how could she dare dream of standing at his side? From the very beginning, he had never once looked at her as a woman.

Making her way to the rose garden, where tea was always served, Ines’s gaze naturally fell on the man already seated there.

The famed blue roses, said to bloom only in the Reinhardt estate, were beginning to open around him. Seated in their midst, the dark-haired man looked flawless even from behind.

Beneath his broad shoulders, his slim waist gave him a striking silhouette that made any attire look perfect on him. The way he sat with his long legs crossed in casual ease was something he showed only in her presence.

“You’re here?”

Even before she made a sound, Lucien noticed her and turned his head. The blue eyes Ines loved more than anything shone fresh and vivid.

Framed by long black lashes, those eyes were as clear and deep as pure sapphire. Beneath their slightly upturned corners, a small beauty mark caught the light, rising with the curve of his cheek when he smiled.

“…Sorry I’m late.”

“Busy with work? I only gave it to you because you said you weren’t.”

Since they had grown up together, the two of them spoke as comfortably as they had in the past whenever no one else was around. That was why Ines always looked forward to tea with him—it felt as though nothing between them had changed since childhood.

Seated across from him, she lifted the teacup already filled before her. As the tea, cooled to a pleasant warmth, slid down her throat, the tension she hadn’t realized was weighing on her body slowly eased.

Breathing in his scent—reminiscent of the soft fragrance of the blue roses surrounding them—she let out a quiet sigh.

Lucien, who had been quietly watching her, spoke.

“Getting older… it’s not much fun.”

“Why say that all of a sudden?”

“Since becoming an adult, you hardly ever show any expression.”

“…Me?”

At his words, Ines unconsciously rubbed her own face. He, the one who had spoken, lifted his teacup with graceful poise and took a sip.

He sat in silence for a moment, leisurely admiring the roses around them, before turning his gaze back to her.

“When you were little, you’d cry at the drop of a hat. Every time you did, your eyes and nose would turn red—you were actually quite cute then.”

For a moment, Ines was at a loss for words. She felt an impulse to tell him the truth, but stubbornly kept her mouth shut.

That she had only ever shown her tears in front of him. That she was, by nature, colorless and without charm—yet somehow, in front of him, her emotions had always surfaced.

Because, then as now, Lucien was the only place where she felt at peace.

“That’s why I used to call you Potato. You looked ugly when you cried.”

His voice carried a trace of laughter, and Ines let out a small chuckle.

She was reminded of a day long ago, when her mother had scolded her and she hadn’t eaten anything since morning. While wandering through the garden with him, she was overcome with hunger and collapsed on the ground, sobbing.

Lucien was startled and ran off somewhere, returning with a boiled potato wrapped in a handkerchief. It was the start of the cold season, and the warmth of the potato against her cold hands made her even happier.

She had always imagined that he only ever ate biscuits and cakes, so the fact that he had brought her a plain boiled potato made her laugh and cry at the same time.

Recalling this memory, she slipped a hand into her dress pocket and felt the handkerchief. The handkerchief he had given her that day was still a cherished keepsake.

“Ines.”

“…Yes?”

At the sound of his voice, she lifted her gaze from where it had been lowered. Lucien looked her straight in the eye and asked,

“By the way, why don’t you wear perfume anymore?”