Without another moment’s thought, Eden nodded slightly.

Despite it being an accident involving numerous casualties and enormous compensation payouts, the case had been processed with unusual speed.

Under normal circumstances, it would have taken at least six months, if not several years, to conclude.

Instead, almost everything had been wrapped up within a month.

The swift resolution.

The tightly sealed records.

He could not shake the feeling that someone had deliberately forced the case to a close.

“Then I’ll take my leave.”

Having received a new assignment, Parker withdrew without delay.

Left alone, Eden let out a low curse at the realization that had come far too late.

‘What the hell have I been doing all this time?’

Without uncovering the truth, he had accepted a distorted version of events as fact.

All while Winter had been here…

In Santero.

“What a pathetic bastard.”

Unable to lift his head, Eden pressed a hand against his forehead.

It no longer mattered that he was the source of his own anger.

Relentless self-reproach had already shattered the last of his pride.

Looking back, he could only see how utterly pathetic he had been.

The years he had spent not knowing whether the one person he was meant to protect was alive or dead now came back to haunt him.

Eden rose abruptly to his feet and braced himself against the desk as he stared out of the window.

Beyond the glass, the horizon was obscured by thick sea fog, fading into the distance.

Powerful waves crashed against the shore, swallowing the white foam before pulling back once more.

Though it was well past noon, dark clouds veiled the sun, cloaking the world in shadow.

The bleak sky seemed to mirror the turmoil inside him.

He was watching himself drown in regrets that had come far too late.

He could only think of himself as utterly pathetic.

‘Gabriel Regner.’

Amid the endless torrent of self-loathing, one scene kept replaying in his mind.

The man sitting next to Winter.

Winter smiling at him.

The memory alone twisted something painfully inside his chest.

Winter’s place had always been by his side.

The crushing sense that someone had quietly taken what should have been his tore through him.0

“…How pathetic.”

A bitter laugh escaped from Eden.

He knew it.

He knew how cowardly and petty the resentment twisting inside him truly was.

Even so, he couldn’t stop it.

The mere thought of Winter smiling beside another man, of her building a future with someone else, felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest.

The overwhelming jealousy he was experiencing for the first time was unbearable.

It was so shamefully selfish that he despised himself for it.

The day after leaving the square, he sent Parker to Roche Salon.

It wasn’t just because he wanted the painting.

More than anything, he wanted a reaction from Winter.

He wanted her to confront him, even if only to ask why he was doing this.

But a few days later…

Only the framed painting arrived from the salon.

There wasn’t even a note.

Winter hadn’t said a word.

‘Where…’

‘Where had everything gone wrong?’

‘And how was he supposed to fix it?’

Unable to find an answer, Eden’s gaze drifted to the side.

Resting in the corner of his desk was an envelope embossed with a silver foil pattern.

“On the final day of the festival, there will be a charity event and banquet at the Santero Art Hall.”

It was the invitation Robert, his butler, had handed him the previous week.

“I accepted the invitation for now. The event is being hosted by the Regner family, and I heard Roche Salon, which is organizing the art auction, will also be participating.”

The perceptive butler had made that last remark deliberately.

There had been no need to mention the Roche Salon.

It was simply his subtle way of suggesting that Winter might be there.

Having grown up with Robert since childhood, Eden knew him well.

And Robert knew Eden just as well.

Even after hearing from Parker that Winter was alive, Robert had never asked a single question.

Instead, he found the forgotten bottle of medicine in a drawer and placed it neatly on the table.

The spot where countless empty liquor bottles had once been scattered was now spotless.

“If you continue drinking like this, Your Grace, you’ll truly ruin your health. Even if it’s only anxiety, taking your medication regularly will help you recover much faster.”

“You need to stay healthy… because only then can you begin again, whatever it may be.”

While attending to him that morning, Robert had never once spoken Winter’s name.

But Eden understood the meaning hidden within those words—whatever it may be—the moment he heard them.

Eden reached out and picked up the stiff invitation card.

***

“Santero?”

Violet frowned at her father’s unexpected announcement.

She had only just sat down on the sofa after he summoned her, saying he had something important to discuss.

“Why are you suddenly telling me to go somewhere so far away? And only two days from now?”

The eastern port wasn’t even where their family villa was.

At her sharp question, Count Lindal folded his newspaper with a crisp snap.

“Suddenly? I’ve thought this through carefully and made all the necessary arrangements. I’ve even prepared a residence where you can stay comfortably.”

“…What?”

“Haven’t you always found the winters in Vartz difficult? Think of this as an opportunity to rest and recover in the East, where the climate is mild and the air is fresh.”

Despite his smooth explanation, Violet did not smile.

The idea of her father going to such lengths to prepare a residence for her felt unnatural.

Then, a thought suddenly crossed her mind.

“…Is that really the only reason you’re sending me there?”

Count Lindal looked at his daughter over the rim of his glasses and clicked his tongue.

“And what is it you’re dissatisfied with now?”

“…Don’t tell me…”

She spoke quickly, the realization forming as she did.

“Is it because Duke Mayer is staying there?”

The more she thought about it, the more certain she became that she was right.

“I’m not a fool, Father. I know better than anyone that Duke Mayer isn’t interested in me in the slightest. And yet you’re still sending me there?”

“Violet, lower your voice.”

The Count delivered his warning in a stern tone.

When he took off his glasses and put them on the side table, he stopped looking like her father.

Instead, he resembled a cold negotiator.

“If there’s a chance to make a profitable deal, it’s worth trying.”

“Duke Mayer is a member of the royal family. If possible, he’s exactly the kind of husband we should secure.”

“Just because one marriage negotiation fell through doesn’t change the fact that he’s still the most desirable match.”

Frustrated by her father’s refusal to listen to her, Violet felt like pounding her fist against her own chest.

She did not want to be sent to Santero like this.

Lowering her head, she pleaded desperately.

“I won’t go.”

“Father… please.”

“Just this once, listen to me.”

“Violet.”

The Count’s unusually lenient tone disappeared instantly.

He was the sole authority on his family’s movements.

As far as he was concerned, he had tolerated more than enough defiance from his daughter and complaints from his wife.

“This isn’t something you get to decide. The villa has been prepared, and I will go down with you to stay for a few days before returning. You will stay in Santero until the weather grows warmer.”

“…Because you’re hoping I’ll meet Duke Mayer again?”

Violet refused to back down.

“Yes. I am. Is there a problem with that?”

Count Lindal had silently observed his daughter’s stubborn resistance, but he finally raised his voice.

The expression on his face was unbearably repulsive to Violet.

His hunger for power and influence, and his desire to restore ties with the House of Mayer, were plain to see.

“A broken marriage arrangement can always be revived. The duke may have wavered for a time, but he rejected the Lindal family for nothing more than poor timing and unfortunate circumstances.”

“Father! Have you forgotten?”

Violet cried out, her voice trembling.

“The rumors everyone was talking about… about Duke Mayer and that painter?”

Winter Wood.

Following the painter’s death, rumors spread that Eden Mayer had fallen apart.

Having fallen in love with Cedric, Violet could only begin to comprehend the extent of his grief.

If Cedric were to disappear like that…

She knew she would never be the same either.

To the Count, however, it was a meaningless argument.

“You speak of your own wishes as though you’re in a position to choose.”

“First, meet the duke again.”

“Talk to him.”

“Create an opportunity.”

“That’s all I want.”

“…What about what I want?”

“You’re still young. Your wishes cannot outweigh the interests of this family—or mine.”

“Not even your mother is an exception.”

The Count’s cold words left no room for argument.

Violet brushed away the tears gathering in her eyes.

She already knew that the marriage arrangement was over.

She knew the Duke would never choose her.

More importantly, her heart already belonged to someone else.

Her heart belonged to someone else.

To the only man who truly cherished her.

However, if she mentioned Cedric now, her father would only become more determined to dissuade her.

Violet knew exactly what kind of man Count Lindal was.

When it came to getting what he wanted, he would stop at nothing.