As Liane settled onto the bench, Tristan crossed his legs and studied her at his leisure from across the way.

Liane was staring up at the sky beyond the pergola, as though she were observing the stars.

“My lady, are you enjoying this evening’s banquet?”

“Yes, Your Grace. It’s a truly magnificent event. This is my first time at a place like this, so please forgive me if I’ve committed any breach of etiquette.”

“I don’t believe there was anything that could be called a breach of etiquette.”

“I’m relieved to hear that.”

“Then I should offer my early congratulations on your successful debut.”

Tristan tilted his head slightly and smiled. Liane met his gaze, her cheeks flushing, and she reached up to fidget with the hair that had fallen past her shoulders before she replied.

“…You flatter me.”

“Where is Emilio Hartfield, the one escorting you this evening?”

It had struck Tristan as odd that Liane, who had drawn the eyes of every young male noble at the banquet, was wandering the garden alone. He asked her about Emilio’s whereabouts.

“It seemed like Lord Emilio was called away by his father, Marquis Hartfield, to discuss business matters.”

“Then you must have had quite a few conversations with others in the meantime.”

When Liane simply smiled without answering, Tristan felt an impulse he couldn’t quite put into words.

“My lady, what does the hair ornament you said you lost look like?”

“Oh, it’s the same as this one. I had one on each side, but one of them disappeared.”

Liane pointed to one side of her head as she answered.

“It’s too dark to see clearly.”

“Ah… then. Excuse me.”

Liane rose from her seat and walked toward Tristan.

She bowed her head before him and pointed to her hair as she spoke.

“It’s the same as this flower-shaped ornament right here.”

Liane leaned forward and turned her head toward the outside of the pergola to show him the hair ornament. At that moment, Tristan reached out toward her hair.

When his hand touched the nape of her neck, near where the ornament sat, Liane startled and her shoulders gave a small flinch.

Tristan’s hand, which had touched the nape of her neck, slowly trailed down through her hair.

“It really is a beautiful ornament. It would be a shame to leave it lost.”

Tristan drew closer, narrowing the distance between them, and from him came the cool scent of cedarwood mingled with a faint trace of iris.

The ticklish sensation of Tristan’s voice near her ear made Liane straighten up quickly.

“My lady, your face is red. You’re not running a fever, are you?”

“No, this is…”

As Liane took a step back, Tristan rose from his seat and stood before her.

She tried to pull the hair on both sides forward to hide her face as she backed away, but Tristan kept drawing closer, and soon her back met one of the pergola’s pillars.

“Ah…”

Liane let out a small sound and looked up. Tristan cupped her cheek in one hand.

“This… isn’t a fever.”

“……”

Tristan’s thumb brushed her lower lip.

Liane’s red lips, which made her flushed cheeks stand out even more, were soft and moist.

When Tristan lowered his finger slightly, the white line of her teeth showed through her slightly parted lips.

He shifted his gaze from her lips to her green eyes, which were looking up at him, and without a moment to think, Tristan tilted his head toward her lips.

The moment it felt like their faces were close enough for their lips to touch, the presence of someone beyond the wall behind the pergola reached him.

Tristan slowly lifted his head, which he had tilted so close to Liane, and removed the hand that had been cradling her chin.

As Tristan stepped back a couple of paces, someone walking past the side of the pergola stopped in their tracks.

“Your Grace, there you are. It looks like you were taking a stroll.”

Hearing the voice calling for him, Tristan descended the pergola steps with his hands in his pockets.

“I sat down to rest and dozed off for a moment.”

The person speaking with Tristan failed to notice Liane standing in the shadowed interior of the pergola and spoke to him again.

Tristan pretended to listen as he began walking along the path beside the pergola toward the estate.

Liane, who had been standing frozen inside, heard the footsteps passing alongside the pergola and looked toward Tristan.

Then her gaze met Tristan’s blue eyes as he turned his head, and in that instant, Liane felt as though her breath had stopped.

Only then did she realize her heart was pounding so hard she could barely contain it.

‘Your Grace… what…?’

Liane touched her lips with one hand and carefully lowered herself onto the bench.

‘Was His Grace just now trying to… ki… kiss me? Or was he trying to brush off some bug that had landed on my hair…?’

As Liane turned the moment over in her mind, her face flushed a deep red, and she grabbed the hair on both sides to hide her face.

‘His Grace really is someone you can’t predict…’

***

Inside the carriage on the way back, Emilio glanced at Liane sitting across from him.

Liane had drawn far more attention at the banquet than he had expected, and both Emilio and Liane were quite worn out.

When he had returned after being called away by his father, Marquis Hartfield, midway through the banquet, Liane looked rather subdued, as though the evening had drained her.

Since it was Liane’s debut, they had decided to leave a little early, but her demeanor was noticeably different from when the evening had begun.

“My lady.”

“Yes?”

Emilio had been quiet for a long while before he finally spoke, and Liane, who had been lost in thought, startled and looked at him.

“You’re acquainted with the Duke of Granville?”

“Ah… yes. Not closely, but…”

Liane’s voice trailed off, and Emilio rested his chin on the armrest, looking at her at a slight angle.

“Then you’ll likely receive an invitation to the banquet being held in a few weeks.”

“Hmm…? What banquet?”

“The Duke of Granville’s engagement was confirmed today, so I’d expect a celebratory banquet to follow.”

“…?!”

Emilio saw Liane’s startled expression and gave a small, knowing smile as he dipped his head slightly.

“Will you need an escort then as well?”

“No, I probably… won’t be invited.”

Emilio watched Liane tuck her hair behind her ear with a bitter look on her face. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the seat.

“Even if you receive an invitation from the Duke of Granville, you intend not to attend?”

“If an invitation does arrive, it would be hard to decline.”

“Then will you need an escort at that time as well?”

Liane turned to look at Emilio, who was asking the same question again.

“Um… aren’t you busy, Lord Emilio?”

“For a banquet of that kind, I’d be on the guest list anyway.”

“Then, if it wouldn’t be an imposition, I’d like to ask you again. But I think His Grace won’t invite me…”

“Understood.”

Emilio watched Liane, who seemed deflated, and felt oddly out of sorts.

It must be the exhaustion.

He wasn’t used to this kind of tedious business, escorting someone.

They arrived at the Aspel estate, and after saying his farewells to Liane, Emilio turned the carriage toward the Hartfield estate.

He reached inside the bow tie wrapped around his neck and tugged at it, and the image of Liane smiling brightly at him floated into his mind.

And then, on the way back, she had been so deflated, with so little to say.

Emilio swept back the hair that had fallen across his face and let out a short sigh.

***

Arman set down the fork he had been using with a sharp clatter against the table.

“Arman, that’s poor table manners.”

“I’ll take my leave first. Please take your time, Mother.”

Leaving his mother, who had been about to lecture him, Arman rose from his seat and walked out alone.

Since the banquet at the Granville ducal estate, Liane had shut herself in her room and hadn’t shown her face once.

It seemed she was having all her meals brought to her room as well.

She had said it was for health reasons, but that was obviously just an excuse.

His anger, with nowhere to go, churned inside him like a furious wave.

He had tried so hard to talk her out of the debut, and yet she had gone anyway…

Since the banquet at the Granville ducal estate, gifts, bouquets, and letters had been arriving at the Aspel estate every single day.

They all came from young nobles trying by any means to meet Liane, sending them as tokens of courtship.

Even nobles who hadn’t attended the banquet had heard the rumors about Liane and couldn’t hide their curiosity, reaching out to make contact.

Arman had torn the first letters to pieces with his own hands, but there were too many arriving each day to keep up with his anger over each one. So at some point he gave up and started throwing them straight into the fireplace.

Liane was shut away in her room regardless, with no idea what was happening outside.

‘And why on earth has Emilio Hartfield shown up again. If that man has some other intention toward Liane…’

The moment Arman pictured Emilio and Liane standing side by side, he felt his blood boil.

As Arman strode down the hall in a fury, his eyes landed on the head steward transferring the mail onto a silver tray.

“Hand that over.”

Arman snatched the mail roughly from the steward’s hands and flipped through the envelopes one by one. Then he spotted a wax seal stamped with the crest of the Granville ducal family, and his hands paused.