The sudden change in the music brought Winter back to the present.

She no longer had the strength to remain in a room filled with cheerful laughter and the constant clinking of wine glasses.

Stepping behind a marble column, she walked forward without looking back.

Although she had been strongly encouraged — almost ordered — to stay until the end of the banquet, that hardly mattered right now.

Fortunately, no one stopped her as she quietly slipped away, being careful not to draw attention to herself.

As she passed through the grand doors one by one, a gust of cold wind greeted her, cooling the heat that had gathered around her eyes.

Winter lifted her head and looked up at the night sky.

Countless stars glittered as though they might spill from the heavens.

Yet their light could not penetrate the turmoil raging within her heart.

***

As closing time approached, the Duke of Mayer arrived at the exhibition hall.

Eden strode down a corridor that had already been cleared of most visitors.

There was nothing unusual about his presence.

As the official patron of the Vartz Art Hall, the Duke’s visit was entirely natural.

While staff members, unaware of the distinguished guest’s arrival, hurried about in confusion, the curator stepped forward.

“Welcome, Your Grace. What an honor to have you visit in person. Your presence will make this exhibition all the more prestigious. Had we known in advance, we would have made every possible preparation. My sincerest apologies.”

“I’m only here for a brief look around. There’s no need for that.”

In response to the overly enthusiastic welcome, Eden offered a simple greeting.

Even her gaze, sweeping across the surroundings, showed no particular interest.

The exhibition hall, which displayed works by several artists, was larger than most.

Meanwhile, staff members began to appear one after another, busy preparing for closing time.

“Come quickly. The Duke of Mayer has come in person.”

Unable to resist the persistent urging of the staff member, Winter followed them, stopping at a distance.

The other artists featured in the exhibition had left nearly thirty minutes earlier.

She was the only one still there after being told that something needed checking.

From roughly twenty paces away, Winter looked at Eden with aching eyes.

Every gaze in the room was fixed on him.

He was the kind of man who always attracted attention wherever he went.

‘Was it wrong of me to love someone like you?’

The question remained unspoken.

With her hands clasped together in front of her, she tried to step behind the door and out of sight.

That was when her eyes met Eden’s.

At that very moment, the curator’s voice rang out as he moved to guide the Duke further into the exhibition hall.

“Ah, Miss Wood! Excellent timing.”

The curator’s smooth tongue never faltered.

“We couldn’t have asked for a better person to introduce the exhibition to His Grace. Come this way, Miss Wood.”

Before Winter could respond, the curator had already started to guide her forward.

She was the obvious choice. After all, she had once painted the Duke’s portrait and knew him better than most.

As she followed, Eden’s gaze fixed silently on one thing: More specifically, it was the curator’s hand, which was wrapped around the cuff of Winter’s sleeve.

His blue eyes slowly traced their way from that hand up the man’s sturdy arm.

Unaware of the sudden shift in atmosphere, the curator continued speaking with an easy smile.

“We put an incredible amount of effort into creating a sense of harmony throughout this exhibition. We wanted visitors to experience a complete story simply by following the works in order. It was the result of countless long discussions and careful planning. Ahem.”

The curator, who had been subtly praising his own efforts, abruptly fell silent.

Only then did he notice the Duke’s icy stare.

The look directed at him was so cold it bordered on hostile.

‘Did I say something wrong?’

He had no idea what offense he had committed, but given who stood before him, caution was the wiser choice.

Lowering his gaze slightly, he decided to quietly follow behind Winter instead.

A brief request stopped him in his tracks.

“I’d prefer to view the exhibition in peace.”

“Ah, of course. Please enjoy it at your leisure.”

The curator realized at once that it was time to step aside, and withdrew quietly without objection.

Even then, however, he made sure to give Winter a pointed look, silently urging her to explain everything later.

Sensing the tension in the air, he dismissed the nearby staff with a quick gesture.

Before long, the corridor leading to the main exhibition hall was completely silent.

Winter felt deeply uncomfortable.

The day had already taken its toll on her, both physically and emotionally.

One ordeal after another had stretched her nerves to breaking point.

All she wanted at that moment was a little peace and solitude.

However, it seemed that Eden had no intention of providing either.

“Miss Wood, would it be possible to hear an introduction to the exhibition?”

His tone was calm.

His manner relaxed.

‘How can you look at me with that expression?’

‘As though we’re complete strangers.’

‘When simply being near you hurts this much.’

Winter fought desperately to keep the tears threatening to spill over.

No matter how much it hurt, she refused to cry here.

“Your Grace… do you truly need an explanation?”

“If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it.”

Eden inclined his head slightly and looked down at the faint tremble around her eyes.

There were still things left unsaid between them.

Not that he intended to have a lengthy personal conversation here.

“It would be better if we spoke outside the exhibition hall. You probably have things you want to say to me as well. One last time.”

It was a decision that Eden had made alone. He uttered it as casually as if he were commenting on one of the paintings displayed before him.

At the word ‘last’, Winter’s slender neck went rigid.

Seeing him again had not given her false hope.

But coming to terms with the end of her relationship with Eden was something else entirely.

Frozen to the spot, she watched his retreating figure as he continued through the exhibition.

It felt as though her heart was breaking over and over again, yet there was nothing she could do except wait for the inevitable conclusion.

Soon, she and Eden wouldn’t even have the chance to stand side by side anymore.

***

Winter kept her gaze lowered, focusing only on the ground beneath her feet.

The place was familiar, but every corner brought back vivid memories, enough to make her eyes sting.

The elegant estate on the outskirts of the city was filled with memories of Eden.

The mansion, with its sprawling garden and separate guest house, was where they had met whenever he wanted to avoid prying eyes.

There had once been a time when the journey there alone was enough to set her heart racing with anticipation.

Now, those same memories brought nothing but pain.

Before she could calm the ache tightening in her chest, Eden broke the silence.

“Is there anything else you want to ask me?”

“What?”

Winter looked up, her voice trembling.

She had so many questions she wanted to ask.

But her thoughts were hopelessly tangled, and her heart was in an even greater turmoil.

Standing before the man who had told her to speak her mind, she took several unsteady breaths and swallowed hard.

When it came to her father, she realized there was nothing she could say.

The bridge of her nose burned, and she blinked rapidly to stop the tears from falling.

The truth could no longer be ignored.

Her father had deceived and betrayed Eden’s mother.

Had she known that from the beginning, however, she would never have been able to continue seeing Eden as though nothing had happened.

In truth, she was the one who needed answers.

Finally, brushing away the tears that had slipped down her cheeks, Winter spoke in a strained voice.

“When did you find out? About my father, I mean.”

Only a few weeks ago, they had shared the same bed in the bedroom beyond these walls.

Winter still couldn’t believe it.

That Eden had known everything and still kissed her.

That he had held her while discussing marriage with another woman.

Lowering his gaze, Eden asked quietly,

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

Winter’s answer came immediately.

“It may not matter to you, Your Grace, but it matters to me.”

She drew a shaky breath before continuing.

“I know there is nothing I can say that would make my father innocent in what he did to the Mayer family. No matter how many excuses I make, I have no right to defend him.”

A surge of emotion rose in Winter’s chest, and her voice cracked as tears welled in her eyes.

She wasn’t trying to defend her father’s past or excuse what he had done.

“At least I was sincere.”

Her words trembled as they left her lips.

“Even knowing I might never have a future with the person I loved, I chose to accept that. That was my decision. I don’t regret it, and I’m not blaming you for it, Your Grace. But…”

“But?”

Eden tilted his head slightly.

His voice was low and devoid of emotion.

Determined to see this conversation through to the end, he met her gaze and did not look away.

She was the woman he had once imagined sharing a future with.

If every beginning was destined to have an ending, theirs deserved a proper conclusion.

He repeated this thought to himself over and over again.

His connection to the Wood family, intertwined as it was with his mother’s painful history, had to end here.

The shameful past of a mother who had once been willing to abandon her husband and child needed to stay buried.

If he could not marry Winter and offer her a future, then for her sake he had to let her go.

It would be cruel.

But he believed it was the right thing to do.

The last kindness he could show her was to give her a clean, decisive farewell that left no room for false hope.

“…”

Winter’s words got stuck in her throat.

Only then did she realize what she truly wanted to know.

She wasn’t looking for an explanation.

She wanted to know how much of it had been real.

She wanted to know what had truly been in Eden’s heart.

He may have discovered the truth about Jeffrey Wood by chance, but more than anything, she wanted to hear that his feelings for her had been genuine.

That was all.

She knew it wouldn’t change anything.

Even if he told her, they still could not be together.

And yet, she desperately wanted to hear that he had loved her, even if only for a moment.

The thought hurt more than she could bear.

Had the Duke of Mayer ever been someone she could simply reach out to because she wanted him?

Their relationship would never have begun if he had not approached her time and again.

If he hadn’t, she would never have had the courage to step into his world.

So why…?

“Your Grace, it was you who first…”