For a moment, I was overwhelmed with emotion and silently gazed at Leopold.

As always, he savored the wine slowly and elegantly. His slightly narrowed eyes and the faint smile on his lips exuded a sense of ease. I had often seen that expression in D’Agnon, and I never thought a day like this would come again…

“Why, have you lost your appetite?”

When our eyes met, he wiped his lips and asked with concern.

“Oh, it’s not that… It’s just fascinating. Sitting here, sharing a meal with you in this room. It brings back memories.”

Perhaps it was the last word I added that caused his expression to harden slightly. I hadn’t intended to blame him for his actions before my return, but it seemed there was room for misunderstanding, so I quickly added,

“I’m talking about when we stayed in that little country house in D’Agnon. I miss it.”

Leopold seemed unsure, and his expression didn’t relax easily, but he eventually nodded.

Even though things had improved now, our past was too painful for either of us to simply forget. How much time would need to pass before we could talk about it comfortably?

“…I’ll cook for you tomorrow.”

Perhaps wanting to believe my words referred to our time in D’Agnon, Leopold smiled wryly and said. Hoping he would quickly shake off his thoughts, I brought up the previous topic again.

“By the way, Leopold. You know the letter I gave you.”

“Yes, go on.”

“How did you remember something I forgot?”

Were the words about luck and happiness particularly memorable? Or was it that the nonsense spoken by a girl just past puberty was so absurd that he remembered it? Either way, having never received a reply, I was curious about his feelings.

“I memorized it.”

“…You memorized it? The letters?”

But what came out of Leopold’s mouth was so unexpected that I asked again, my mouth agape.

“To be precise, I read them so many times that I memorized them.”

“Surely not all of them?”

He nodded nonchalantly but then slowly furrowed his brow. Perhaps my expression was strange.

“Well, is that wrong?”

“It’s not that, but…”

Flustered, I trailed off, and he slowly spoke as if recalling a memory.

“It was… a very unconscious and routine action. Reading your letters…”

The Leopold I remembered certainly spent a lot of time in the study. But I had only glimpsed the scene and didn’t know exactly what he was doing.

“Then do you remember the first letter I sent?”

“Of course. I’ll probably never forget that.”

He answered seriously, then chuckled softly.

***

Leopold clearly remembered the day he received Hazel’s first letter.

It had been snowing for days, confining him to the study and forcing him to repeat tedious accounting studies. He kept glancing out the window, longing to roam the forest with his sword once the snow stopped.

Finally, as dusk fell and the snow, which had piled up to his knees, ceased, he sprang to his feet. But he soon sighed and sat back down. He wasn’t a cruel enough master to bury his sword in that snowfield.

Clearing the snow from the garden and making paths usually took about a day, but the untouched white forest was a different story. He would have to wait at least ten days, maybe longer, for the snow to melt. The winter sunlight in the forest was brief and weak.

As his thoughts reached that point, his disappointment grew like a snowball. Eventually, he closed his book and went to the window. Though unsatisfactory, he figured he’d have to settle for a walk in the garden with his sword for the time being.

The employees of the Lawrence family were highly competent, and none of them ever performed their duties carelessly. Therefore, the snow in the garden would be cleared quickly and neatly, just like the person outside was diligently making a path…

“Starting from the front entrance…?”

Leopold, who had been watching closely, sensed something unusual. Since all the employees were inside the mansion, it would have made more sense to start clearing snow near the main building. Curious, he observed the person approaching the mansion, swinging their arms energetically.

The individual was draped in a black cloak and wore a flat beret, with a bag slung diagonally across their body. While the bag and cloak seemed ordinary, the beret was not a hat worn by locals. In the northern cold, such a purely decorative hat was impractical.

It was clear this person was an outsider, and the timing was unfortunate. His mother became more fearful and negative after sunset, so the person might have to leave without even meeting her.

After a moment of thought, Leopold rang the bell to summon Peter and instructed him to bring the stranger to the study without his mother knowing.

“If you tell Mother, that person will probably end up buried in the snow again. It’s going to get incredibly cold soon.”

“Madam will find out tomorrow when the sun rises.”

“Thank you, Peter.”

Even though he held a title, his mother was responsible for everything in the mansion because he was still a minor. However, Peter often followed Leopold’s instructions when necessary.

Soon, a man, soaked to the skin and dripping water onto the floor, entered the study with Peter. Upon closer inspection, there was an emblem of the National Academy embroidered on one side of his cloak.

“I greet Duke Lawrence. My name is Siegel.”

Removing his hat, he politely introduced himself using only his given name. At the Academy, those of commoner status were either healers or staff. Leopold greeted him with appropriate courtesy.

“I am Leopold Lawrence. What brings you to this remote place in such foul weather?”

“I came to deliver this. The Dean insisted it be delivered personally. The Lawrence family is the Academy’s biggest benefactor.”

He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a letter.

“I will continue to deliver letters personally like this. If you wish to send a reply, please write it and give it to me. I will take it back.”

The Academy’s emblem, symbolizing a sprout, was stamped in sealing wax. However, the letter’s folding and the position of the sealing wax were awkward and crooked.

“Is this not the Dean’s letter?”

“It’s from a student. There should be a name somewhere…”

Squinting, he examined the letter, and indeed, a somewhat familiar name appeared in a corner on the back of the letter.

Hazel.

The girl with shimmering violet eyes and silver hair…

Suddenly, his heart pounded loudly in his head, and a whirlwind of questions overwhelmed him.

Had she already learned to write in less than three months since going to the Academy? When she left here, she didn’t even know how to write her own name.

Could it be that she disliked the Academy? Even if she was an orphan, it was certain that the area near Lawrence’s estate was her hometown, so maybe she wanted to return… Or perhaps she wanted to see the boy she called her brother…

Lost in a chain of thoughts, he didn’t hear Peter calling him.

“…Sir! Your Grace!”

“Ah, Peter.”

“What should we do?”

“…I want to see the letter. But I don’t want it to look like it was opened.”

It was such an impulsive decision that he couldn’t believe he had said it himself. If his mother found out he acted on his own like this, he might face punishment and be deprived of meals for at least three days.

However, Peter, without asking for a reason, used the letter opener on the desk to neatly remove the sealing wax without leaving a trace.

“You can read it like this. Sealing it again won’t be difficult, so feel free to look.”

Feeling a small sense of satisfaction with his reliable butler, Leopold opened the letter with a trembling heart. He quickly let out a chuckle. The tension he had felt seemed foolish.

“To Mrs. Lawrence,

This is Hazel. I’m doing well. Is Mrs. Lawrence and the young master doing well too? I’ll write again next time.”

It was hard to tell if it was a code or a letter. Yet, the fact that she wrote her own name correctly was endearing, making him wonder if he should be impressed.

Not only did she call this a letter, but she also sent an Academy staff member on a long journey? In the dead of winter to the notoriously cold Lawrence estate? He knew Isabel was a bit eccentric, but he didn’t expect her to be so heartless.

Leopold had no idea how to process this situation.

“Did you say your name was Siegel?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“I don’t think there’s a need to reply to this letter. Please follow Peter and rest. He will inform you of a few things to keep in mind, and tomorrow, meet my mother and do exactly as you did today.”

He handed the letter back to Peter and turned away, still chuckling in disbelief. The fact that she had learned to write quickly proved she was indeed a clever child, but that letter…

Moreover, if he heard correctly, Siegel mentioned he would be delivering letters “in the future” as well.

Leopold shook his head in disbelief. He thought he should give Siegel a generous fee when he returned.