Vincent took a sip of tea and asked casually.

It was not particularly surprising.

The young woman, who was said to be a relative of Mrs Roche, had only arrived a few months ago, but had quickly become well known in the area.

Naturally.

A woman of such striking beauty, with an air of quiet mystery, was bound to attract attention wherever she went.

Vincent set down his teacup and began sharing every bit of information he could think of before Gabriel had even had the chance to respond.

“She always helps out at the salon whenever there’s an exhibition or event. She also goes for walks along the beach with Mrs Roche’s granddaughter. She injured one of her arms recently, so she didn’t seem to be moving around very comfortably. Has it healed completely now?”

After rambling on for a while, Vincent muttered the last part almost to himself.

Gabriel, who had been listening quietly, suddenly asked,

“How do you know all that?”

“What?”

At the suspicious question, Vincent nearly jumped out of his seat.

He had instantly caught the unspoken implication.

‘Are you seriously asking that because you think I have feelings for another woman?’

“No! My little princess was only born recently, so why would I…? The Roche Salon is one of our office’s clients. I’ve just picked up bits and pieces here and there!”

“Ah.”

Watching Vincent wave his hands around frantically and deny the ridiculous misunderstanding, Gabriel couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.

Then again, Vincent was not one to hide his intentions.

He simply enjoyed being around people.

Most likely, he had taken an interest in the new arrival out of simple curiosity.

Having reached this conclusion, Gabriel stretched out his long legs and settled comfortably into his chair.

Beyond the open window, the crimson glow of the sunset slowly spread across the horizon.

Gabriel quietly took in the familiar sight, which he had missed from time to time during his years away from home.

As the warm, orange light washed over his face, a faint smile naturally appeared on his lips.

Vincent, who had noticed it immediately, gave his shoulder a light tap.

“What were you thinking about that made you smile like that?”

“I was thinking that coming back was the right choice.”

At the easy answer, Vincent nodded as though he completely understood.

“Yeah, you made the right decision. You’d do well no matter where you went, but there’s still nothing better than the place where you were born and raised. Don’t you think?”

Yes.

That seemed to be true.

Now that he had said it aloud, he was hit even harder by the realization that he had finally returned somewhere comfortable and familiar.

Although his time abroad had not been unpleasant, it could not compare to spring in Santero.

***

Winter packed up her things with practiced efficiency.

Once the sun had set, he could no longer continue painting the landscape.

This type of landscape painting could only be worked on within a specific timeframe, so it remained half finished.

“I hope the weather is clear again tomorrow.”

Muttering to himself, Winter placed the packed bag down beside her.

She wanted to stay by the shore for a little while longer.

As evening slowly settled over the coast, the sea gradually faded into the gathering darkness.

Winter stared quietly at the horizon, where the ocean and sky blended together so completely that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

An unfamiliar city.

People she had only recently met.

Everything in her life had changed, yet memories of the past lingered in her mind like scattered fragments of a broken dream.

The emptiness deep within her heart had not faded at all.

Whenever those feelings surfaced, Winter immersed herself in painting.

It was the only thing that truly helped.

The moment she sat before a canvas with a brush in hand, the noise in her mind began to fade, and every other thought slowly drifted away.

‘I should get going.’

Once again, Winter brushed the sand from her bag before slinging it over her shoulder.

In addition to the landscape painting, she had also been working on another piece at night.

As she made her way across the beach, her feet sinking into the sand with every step, she retraced the path she had taken earlier.

After realizing that Lily would already be asleep by now, she changed direction.

The studio, located just a five-minute walk from the Roche residence, also served as her home.

Mrs. Roche had generously offered her a small house with an attached studio and a modest garden.

“The place has been empty, so please make yourself comfortable. It’s very quiet, which is ideal if you want to paint whenever you like. I’d love you to stay with us, but you’ll probably find it easier to concentrate if you live on your own.”

It was an act of remarkable generosity—offering her a place to stay without asking for anything in return.

Wanting to repay that kindness, even in the smallest way, Winter threw herself into her painting with even greater dedication.

As she walked through the brightly lit shopping district, she suddenly became aware of the hunger she had been ignoring and came to a stop.

Come to think of it, there was nothing suitable to eat if she went straight home.

The moment she stepped inside the shop, the familiar owner greeted her with a warm smile.

“Welcome. Heading home now?”

“Hello.”

As it was the closest shop to her house, Winter stopped by every few days.

After picking up some eggs and milk, she added a few potatoes and a block of cheese before heading to the counter.

It wasn’t much—just a simple grocery run.

Yet the kind-hearted shopkeeper slipped several extra items into her bag, things Winter hadn’t even selected.

The more time Winter spent in the neighborhood, the more she realized that almost everyone knew Mrs. Roche.

Naturally, they extended the same warmth and kindness to the relative Mrs. Roche had introduced to them.

“Strawberries have just come into season. You should take some and give them a try. These are for Lily. Come by the shop sometime during the day.” The last time I gave her some sweets, she kissed me on the cheek. She was absolutely adorable.”

The owner, who had always been fond of Lily, smiled as he pressed a small bundle into Winter’s hands.

“Take care.”

Caught off guard by the unexpectedly full shopping bag, Winter almost reached for her wallet again before slipping it back into his pocket.

Refusing such sincere kindness too stubbornly would have felt rude.

“Thank you. I’ll come by again.”

With a gentle smile and a few words of thanks, Winter left the shop behind.

The straight road soon curved into a narrow alley on the right.

At the end of the quiet dead-end lane stood the small house that had become her home.

After setting her keys on the table, she began unpacking the groceries she had brought back.

Once she had changed her clothes, she prepared a simple dinner.

Boiled eggs and mashed potatoes were enough to satisfy her hunger.

Afterward, she kept herself busy without a moment’s rest.

She cleaned the house—a task she had postponed that morning in her rush to leave—and then took a shower.

By the time she had finished, it was well past ten o’clock.

With her hair still damp, Winter settled back in front of the easel.

On nights like this, when darkness blanketed everything around her, the thoughts she had managed to push aside during the day would gradually return.

Sometimes, a memory would surface without warning and pierce her heart with a sudden ache.

Even then, Winter tried not to lose herself in the past.

Instead, she found comfort in knowing that she had done everything she could that day and quietly prepared herself for tomorrow.

It was only a small source of peace, but for now, it was enough.

And so, the light in Winter’s studio remained on long after the rest of the city had fallen asleep.

***

“But seriously, what’s wrong with Eden? It’s not like the Mayer family has any particular problems to worry about.”

A puzzled question drifted across the crowded table, surrounded by glasses of alcohol.

It was past midnight, the social club was packed with familiar faces and it was difficult to find an empty seat.

The group had been discussing a horse-riding competition enthusiastically when the topic turned to Eden, prompting one person after another to join the conversation.

“Eden Mayer?”

“No, but he’s completely changed all of a sudden. These days, it’s hard enough just to catch a glimpse of him. Don’t you think?”

“Exactly. The Mayer family doesn’t seem to have any particular problems. If anything, things are going too well for them.”

An undercurrent of envy ran through their conversation.

After all, what problems could possibly trouble a man who ruled over a vast steel empire?

From the moment he was born, Eden Mayer had lived a life that others could only dream of.

He had wealth, status and influence, not to mention a future secured by the king’s unwavering support. With the royal family backing his company, it seemed as though nothing could truly threaten him.

And yet, something about the Duke of Mayer had changed.

Over the past few months, he had gradually withdrawn from social gatherings, rarely showing himself in public.

Then, a month ago, he finally appeared at the Founding Day celebration hosted by the King.

The man who attended that event seemed as sharp and dangerous as a finely honed blade.

Everyone who saw him was unsettled.

Despite his composure, he seemed fragile, as though he were standing on the edge of something unseen.

Eden, the King’s cherished nephew, had always commanded attention wherever he went.

His effortless confidence, refined manners, and unwavering composure were as much a part of him as his name itself.

‘And yet that man disappeared without a word the moment the Founding Day fireworks began.’

What’s more, it happened in the middle of a grand ceremony that was strictly governed by protocol.

It was at this point that the bewildered guests first began to whisper amongst themselves.

But what serious concerns could a man have when everything in his life seemed to be going exactly as he wished?

“Maybe he’s just bored with life.”

“It could be. Maybe he’s been too peaceful lately and now wants to start a fire himself. Maybe he needs to burn something to feel alive again.”

A cynical remark came from one side of the sofa.

Immediately afterwards, a man who had clearly been waiting for the right moment finally spoke up.

“As far as I know, it’s because of a woman. A pretty reliable source let something slip.”

“A woman? You mean Violet Lindal? Didn’t Eden call off the marriage himself?”

The moment the intriguing topic was raised, questions were fired at him from all sides.

The man who had casually dropped the bait deliberately took his time, slowly draining his glass before continuing.