[News That Shook Vartz! Who Is the Woman Being Considered for Marriage by the Mayer Ducal House?]

Winter read the headline in front of him over and over again.

The subject of the sensational article was none other than the Duke of Mayer: Eden Mayer.

No matter how many times Winter looked at it, the person in the article was undoubtedly the same person they knew.

[Among high society, the prevailing opinion is that the youngest daughter of House Lindal would be the ideal mistress of the ducal household. While public interest continues to grow, the Mayer family has yet to release an official statement.]

Winter rubbed at her chest repeatedly, her heart pounding so hard it felt as though it might burst.

She had never made any promises of marriage with Eden, her lover.

Nor had she ever dared to dream of becoming a duchess when she was not even a noble.

But if she was being honest, she had imagined it before.

A future with the man she loved.

Even knowing their relationship would someday come to an end.

Even understanding the reality of their situation.

She had still clung to that foolish hope.

But…

He hadn’t said a word about it.

With vacant eyes, he gazed out of the window at the street beyond.

The boulevard, which was already fading in the evening sunlight, was crowded with people hurrying to and fro.

Then, through the ringing in her ears, she heard a familiar voice.

It was the shop owner.

“Oh dear, sorry about that. I had to go to the storeroom to fetch these, so you must have waited a while, right? Here, I brought some that are as close as possible to what you described.”

“…Ah, yes.”

Winter absentmindedly accepted the bundle of tablecloths the owner held out.

When she remained silent for quite some time afterward, the owner looked puzzled and asked,

“Don’t you like any of them? They seem almost exactly like what you described to me. Aren’t these what you’re looking for?”

“No. I’ll take this one. Thank you.”

Without examining them any further, Winter bought the one at the top.

They had been in high spirits just before entering the shop.

At least, they had been until Winter picked up a newspaper while waiting for the owner to return with the items she had chosen.

“Take care, and come again next time.”

Winter was greeted with a cheerful farewell as she stepped out of the shop.

However, today, every step felt unusually burdensome, as though a stone had been tied to her arm.

Winter was used to carrying a heavy bag full of painting supplies.

There was no reason for a single tablecloth to feel this heavy.

Taking a deep breath, Winter turned the corner and headed towards a small park.

To get home, she would have continued straight on to the next block, but right now, they wanted nothing more than to sit down and rest somewhere.

The path was scattered with brittle, dried leaves rolling aimlessly across the ground.

There wasn’t a soul in sight.

Winter settled onto an empty bench.

As she quietly steadied her breathing, a faint glimmer of hope stirred deep within her.

Perhaps the article was not true.

It was a fragile hope, but a hope nonetheless.

After all, baseless gossip often found its way into the tabloids.

‘So maybe today’s article is just another one of those…’

The moment the thought crossed her mind, Winter lowered her head.

It felt as though she had been caught harboring a selfish desire that she had tried so hard to hide.

No matter how good a reporter might be, they would never drag that man into a completely baseless rumor.

Even Winter, who lived far removed from high society, knew that much.

Eden Mayer.

The King’s nephew by marriage, he was the Duke of Mayer and heir to five noble titles.

He owned the vast steel empire known as the Mayer Company.

His name alone needed no further introduction.

Winter first encountered Eden when she accompanied her mentor to the ducal estate for a portrait commission.

And somehow, she had become the lover of a man she had never dared to reach for.

She had been happy.

An exhibition she had painstakingly prepared for was just around the corner.

And the long-awaited reunion with her father was finally approaching.

After Winter’s mother passed away, her father had become her only family.

“The exhibition?”

“Yes. I was wondering if you might come this time. You were worried about whether I was doing well, weren’t you?”

“Ah… Right. It’s your first exhibition. Of course I should go.”

When her father finally agreed after a brief hesitation, Winter had been overjoyed.

Since leaving her hometown to pursue her dream of becoming a painter, this would be the first time her father visited Vartz.

She had wanted to show him that she was doing well.

But that had been their last conversation.

And now…

She had no idea how to pick up the shattered pieces of her heart and move forward.

How long had Winter been sitting there?

One by one, the gas lamps flickered to life, illuminating the streets around her.

A wind as sharp as a blade mercilessly slipped through the gaps in her thick coat.

Eden was away on a business trip and was not in Vartz.

Even if Winter wanted to confirm the truth, there was nothing they could do right now.

“I’ll be back this weekend. I’ll send someone ahead.”

Remembering what Eden had said, Winter gathered her things and stood up from the bench.

Her gaze lingered on the bare, withered branches before drifting beyond the dim flowerbeds.

The suffocating weight in her chest had risen all the way to her throat, but she knew there was only one way to discover the truth.

She had to face him.

And yet, part of her dreaded that very moment.

Struggling to calm her turbulent thoughts, Winter took a step forward.

Her footsteps sank soundlessly into the thick layer of fallen leaves.

Then another fierce gust of wind swept through the park.

Its mournful whistling followed her like a long shadow.

Winter had made her decision.

***

“The train bound for Vartz will be departing shortly. Passengers are kindly requested to complete boarding.”

A man with a strong southern accent raised his voice and called out across the station.

The announcement urging passengers to board echoed through the terminal once more.

While the crowded platform teemed with travelers, the restricted carriage remained quiet.

Golden sunlight streamed through the spacious compartment, bathing the interior in warm light.

Seated inside the first-class carriage, which had been specially converted from a whole train carriage, was its sole occupant.

With an indifferent expression, he gazed out of the window.

The journey to his destination had taken three full days.

The return journey would take just as long.

It was then that a respectful report reached the man, whose face showed a faint trace of fatigue.

“Your Grace, an article about the ducal house was published in yesterday’s Vartz Daily. It has been confirmed that it mentions marriage negotiations with House Lindal.”

The secretary had just finished a phone call when he got on the train.

He spoke in an impeccably respectful tone.

After a brief silence, Eden nodded slightly without responding.

House Lindal was the marriage prospect that His Majesty had suggested as a suitable match for Eden.

However, he had never met her in person; the only time he had seen her was briefly at the palace before he left on this trip.

It was not difficult to guess where such rumors had originated.

The proposal could have come from either his uncle, who was eager to marry off his unmarried nephew, or the Count’s family, who were the other party involved in the proposed match.

Either way, the article’s portrayal of him and the House of Lindal as if they shared a special relationship was equally irritating.

As his eyes shimmered faintly in the scattered sunlight and he turned his gaze towards the view beyond the window, they trembled ever so slightly.

Bwaaaang—!

With a loud blast of the whistle, the train slowly began to move.

“Then please get some rest, Your Grace.”

The secretary offered a final bow before leaving.

After he had left, Eden closed his eyes.

A clear silhouette emerged amid the scattered fragments of memory.

Eyes the color of steeped black tea to match their hair.

Eyes that curved gently whenever they met his gaze in a bare, unpainted face.

Hands faintly scented with paint.

“Winter Wood.”

A quiet murmur escaped from between his neatly parted lips.

He could easily picture the expression Winter must have worn when she read the unexpected news in yesterday’s paper.

She was soft-hearted and never particularly good at hiding her emotions behind a composed expression.

“I love you.”

The voice that had confessed those words to him, despite receiving no promises in return, echoed in his ears.

Everything about their time together had proved that they were lovers.

But not anymore.

Once this train reached its destination, their relationship would have to change.

Reaching out, he drew the curtain closed.

Then, as though to cut off his heavy thoughts, he shut his eyes once more.

As his eyelids slowly lowered, the sea-colored eyes disappeared from sight.

***

“I’ll show you the way, Miss Wood.”

The Mayer family’s butler walked ahead with impeccable composure, taking measured steps.

Winter followed behind him, tracing the intricate diamond patterns carved into the walls.

Even after passing through the spacious central hall and making their way down the corridor, they saw no one else moving through the estate.

‘He must have sent everyone away.’

Lowering their gaze, Winter kept the thought to herself.

“His Grace is waiting inside.”

The butler stopped at the end of the long corridor.

“Thank you.”

After offering a brief word of thanks, Winter stepped into the reception room.

The space beneath the long golden drapes where the grand piano stood felt familiar to them both.

Long ago, Eden had asked a question while seated at that very piano.

“Winter, do you know how to play the piano?”

“No. I’ve never learned any instruments.”

“Shall I teach you, then?” Though now I come to think of it, it’s probably unnecessary. I’m quite good at playing myself.”

As though it were the most natural thing in the world, Eden held out his hand to Winter, who was standing hesitantly in front of the piano.

Before Winter could feel embarrassed about not knowing how to play, Eden gently pulled him down to sit beside him.

Then he played the piece that Winter had mentioned was their favorite.

Again and again.

The sunlit window.

His hands moved smoothly across the keys.

The clear, resonant melody filled the room.

Eden smiled softly whenever their eyes met.

That day, the room became a memory Winter would never forget.

“Winter?”

When their name was softly called, Winter’s thoughts, which had been immersed in that familiar melody, were abruptly pulled back to reality.

A tall figure stood by the large window with its back to the light.