“Hah… hng, ngh….”

Edwin gasped desperately, trying to stop the memories.

His throat tightened, his breathing falling completely apart.

The symptoms were painfully familiar to him.

Hyperventilation.

It always happened like this.

Without warning, it would seize his throat and slowly choke the air from him as though trying to teach him what death felt like.

His face burned red, tears spilling uncontrollably from his eyes.

His head pounded violently.

It felt as though his heart had somehow lodged itself inside his skull.

Pulling the blanket over his mouth and nose, Edwin desperately tried to breathe back in the air he exhaled.

“You deserve to suffer for the rest of your life. You should experience everything I went through too. Spend the rest of your life trapped in misery and fear.”

Richel Isle had said those words to him.

Her emaciated body had trembled violently every time she coughed.

No matter how much treatment she received, her condition never improved.

As though even her body itself understood that its owner no longer wished to live.

“Ngh… hngh…. Richel….”

Twisting helplessly, Edwin swallowed broken breaths.

The sound of bells rang endlessly in his ears.

It was the day Richel died.

Those bells had continued tolling throughout her funeral.

Edwin curled tighter into himself.

No matter how hard he tried to breathe, it felt as though he could never properly catch his breath.

Strength drained from his limbs, and his face gradually turned deathly pale.

It felt exactly like suffocating to death.

‘Was this how it felt for you when you died?’

The thought shattered quickly beneath the pain.

Edwin kept inhaling the air trapped beneath the blanket—not to survive, but simply to stop the agony.

Hyperventilation only felt like dying.

It was not something that actually killed you.

If left untreated, the suffering simply continued until you eventually passed out.

Only when he reached the point of wishing he would rather die did his breathing finally begin to loosen slightly.

After gasping for a long while, he barely managed to pull the blanket away.

Once the attack passed, overwhelming exhaustion and numb weakness followed immediately behind it.

Edwin forced himself to search through his memories.

He needed to find the good ones.

Otherwise, the nightmares would come again.

Good memories.

Moments untouched by pain or regret.

He searched and searched for them until eventually, his body went limp.

***

Edwin first learned about Richel through the conversations constantly circulating among the people around him.

Though she considered herself ordinary, she was actually quite famous.

“Hey, did you see that just now? The way Lady Rainer handed her glass to the lady beside her? It was so elegant I swear I got mesmerized. Look, like this—”

“You handed it over like that? It looks more like you’re trying to throw the drink in someone’s face.”

“D*mn it, it’s actually really hard, okay?”

The man awkwardly twisted his wrist in different angles while attempting to mimic the motion.

There was not a trace of elegance in the result.

Edwin and the others nearby burst into laughter.

Just as the laughter began to die down, the man suddenly glanced toward the side before whispering hurriedly.

“Hey, look over there. Seriously… that’s what real grace looks like.”

Elegant and refined—Richel Rainer.

Hearing such exaggerated praise, Edwin found himself recalling a book he had shoved into the far corner of his study long ago.

It was an etiquette posture manual he had spent several days trying to study as a child before eventually giving up on it entirely.

Richel Rainer resembled the illustrations from that book.

Elegant.

Beautiful.

‘I wonder if there’s still a copy somewhere at home. Though they probably threw them all away….’

Edwin ended up stopping by a bookstore and buying the manual again.

The posture guide was filled with delicate, old-fashioned illustrations demonstrating proper posture and movement.

The purpose was simple: observe and imitate.

But imitating them was far from easy.

Illustrations remained perfectly still on a flat page, while real people constantly moved.

Maintaining the same graceful impression while moving naturally was incredibly difficult.

As a child, Edwin had tried many times to imitate the drawings in that manual.

Of course, he failed.

The hardest part was imagining and filling in the movements not shown in the illustrations.

‘Most people eventually give up on it, or so I’ve heard….’

The posture manual had never been considered essential.

Unlike strict etiquette rules that nobles absolutely had to know, it was treated more like an optional refinement.

As long as one behaved calmly and avoided appearing vulgar without breaking etiquette, that alone was enough to be praised as “noble.”

Edwin, along with most of his friends, remained at exactly that level.

The reason Richel Rainer stood out so overwhelmingly among everyone else was because that kind of refinement was truly difficult.

And extraordinarily rare.

‘Here it is. The proper way to hand over a wine glass.’

Flipping through the newly purchased posture manual, Edwin found himself thinking of Richel Rainer.

He had once believed it was impossible for a real person to appear more refined than the illustrations in the book—yet somehow, she was even more perfect than the drawings themselves.

Standing before a mirror, Edwin slowly adjusted his movements while imagining Richel.

The elegance that had once seemed utterly impossible when he was younger now began to settle faintly into his posture.

Quite refined—Edwin Isle.

Staring at his reflection, he let out a quiet laugh.

Then he carefully stored the posture manual inside a box beneath his bed.

For some reason, it felt strangely satisfying, as though he had discovered a treasure and hidden it away.

“Are you here alone today, Lady Rainer?”

That was how Edwin first approached her.

He had refined his posture, appearance, and even the tone of his voice several times beforehand.

And after watching for countless opportunities, he had finally gathered the courage to walk up to her.

Richel startled so badly at his sudden words that she dropped her wine glass.

Wine spilled everywhere, and after that, everything became a blur of confusion.

That had been their first meeting.

“Wow… Edwin, this is my first time seeing the ocean.”

Though Richel carried herself with perfect grace and elegance, her actual personality was completely different.

She could be rigidly proper at times, but she was also earnest, endlessly curious, and above all—comfortable to be around.

She admitted freely when there were things she could not do.

She said honestly when there were things she did not know.

And when something was new to her, she simply admitted she had never experienced it before.

Yet she never tied those shortcomings to her own worth.

“This steamed shellfish is delicious. Hm? What’s this?”

“Lobster meat.”

“Lobster? But it’s translucent.”

“That’s because it hasn’t been cooked. If it’s freshly caught, you can eat it raw.”

With surprised eyes, she examined the dish in front of her.

Then, before long, she resumed eating with her usual neat and elegant composure.

That contrast was astonishing and unbearably adorable.

“How strange. It’s slightly sweet… and chewy? What does it taste like when it’s cooked?”

“Should we order the steamed version too? Want to try it?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m already full, so I’d rather just hear about it.”

As he looked at her, Edwin began describing the taste of cooked lobster meat.

Whenever he made the description more vivid and delicious sounding, Richel’s eyes widened slightly in fascination.

And every time that happened, Edwin found himself imagining more things he wanted to share with her.

New things.

Interesting things.

Things that would make her eyes light up with wonder again.

Richel Rainer was diligent, endlessly curious, and completely free of inferiority or self-loathing.

Edwin loved those parts of her.

He loved that someone so strong and steady loved him in return.

He loved sharing feelings with her, sharing the things he knew, and being understood and affirmed by her.

The problem began after she met his parents.

“The men of House Isle have supposedly loved horses for generations, right? I heard the family even ran a breeding business once. They said there are a lot of exceptional horses in the estate.”

“…My father talked to you about business?”

“He only explained it briefly, but I got curious and kept asking questions. I really like hearing about those things. I’m genuinely interested in them.”

Count Isle thought highly of Richel.

Because the more curious she was, the faster she learned. Because she was accustomed to effort, she was diligent. And because she understood situations quickly, she was exceptionally capable at handling responsibilities.

The expectations placed upon her were expectations Edwin himself had never once received in his entire life.

Of course, Richel knew nothing about that.

“Edwin, I want to learn a lot from the Count. I’ve handled estate-related work before, but I know almost nothing about business.”

It was then that Edwin realized the truth.

The very things that had made him fall in love with her were the exact things he had always longed for himself.

Everything Edwin had desperately wanted but never possessed—Richel Rainer had naturally been born with.

And in that moment, Edwin felt inferior to her.

“Edwin? Where are you going?”

“Ah…. I’m just going to walk around for a bit. You should head inside.”

“Suddenly? Wait a second. Let me put the horse back in the stable and come with you.”

“No, it’s okay. I just… need some time to think alone.”

That summer became unbearably painful.

The more interest Richel showed toward House Isle, the more often those feelings of inferiority surfaced.

Whenever she stood beside his parents.

Whenever she accomplished effortlessly the things he could not.

Whenever she spoke about wanting to become like them.

‘Richel… you hurt me so much.’

Edwin could never confess those thoughts aloud.

Because they revealed how pitiful he truly was.

Everything considered admirable about him had simply been handed to him at birth.

His family name.

His wealth.

His appearance.

Nothing more.

Beyond those things, he had always been incompetent.

It was the deepest inferiority complex he had spent his entire life hiding from everyone else.

Every time Richel spoke admiringly about his parents and said she wanted to live like them, Edwin felt miserable and hollow.

“Richel, I… I don’t want to get married yet. I’m not planning to announce the engagement either.”

Those were the words he ended up saying.

Richel cried in shock.

All of her famed grace and elegance collapsed completely as she clung to him and confessed how much she loved him.

To Edwin, it looked like the behavior of someone who simply did not know how pathetic he truly was.

Her desperation came from ignorance of his incompetence and inferiority.

Even her promise to wait for him was merely trust born from not knowing the truth.

And yet, even knowing that, Edwin still could not leave her.

‘If we could just live far away from my parents… if it were only the two of us… maybe things would be alright.’

Because when they were alone together, untouched by everyone else, their relationship was still warm, joyful, and happy.

The love Richel gave him still filled the emptiness inside him.

Edwin began searching for ways to distance himself from his family.

It was not truly solving the problem.

It was closer to running away from it.

Even so, he believed it was the best option available to him.

Because he had never once managed to overcome those feelings in his entire life.

He had only ever known two choices: leave or run.

And Edwin chose the latter.

Because he loved Richel.

Because he did not want to lose her.

‘I’ll wait until you’re ready.’

He wanted to repay the love she had given him.