Several days had passed, and Kian was still away from the mansion.

Although she had been told she could stay in the duke’s bedroom if she wished, Vivianne chose to return to her own room.

Kian’s bedroom was undoubtedly more comfortable. The bed was larger, the bathtub was more spacious, and the large balcony doors opened to reveal an immediate view of the ocean. As the master’s quarters in such a grand mansion, it was the finest room available. Yet, it didn’t feel as comfortable to her as her own room.

Facing the maids who cleaned there every morning also made her uneasy. Above all, staying there gave her the constant feeling that she was simply waiting for Kian to return.

That was why Vivianne decided to return to her own space.

“What does Kian do when he goes hunting?” Vivianne asked Matilda, her chin resting on her hand as her elbow propped her up on the table. Her expression was thoughtful.

Matilda explained that Kian had left the mansion several days ago to go hunting. Since he was away for so long, hunting seemed to be a significant activity for him.

Mermaids hunted too, but Vivianne, who had been confined to the Mermaid Palace, had never been involved in it. She had neither reason nor interest in learning about it before.

But something had changed.

Now that Kian was off hunting, she found herself curious about every little detail of what he might be doing.

“He catches animals—things like rabbits or deer. Sometimes he brings back foxes too,” Matilda replied, referring to land animals.

“Like these?” Vivianne asked, holding out a book to Matilda. The title read *Educational Animal Encyclopedia*.

“Yes, that’s right. Do you read books like this too, Vivi?”

“This one just has the most pictures,” Vivianne admitted. She wasn’t particularly studious; her reason for choosing the book was much simpler.

Matilda smiled, amused by her honesty.

“And this one too,” Vivianne said, holding out another book, this time titled *Educational Plant Encyclopedia*. “Look at this. Isn’t it pretty? I like this one because it has so many flowers that look like roses. Some are very small and cute too.”

“I’ll get you more books—ones that are easy for you to read,” Matilda offered. She decided to visit the bookstore to find some fairy tales, the kind children enjoyed. Though they were written for young readers, they often contained beautiful and easy-to-read love stories. Matilda thought Vivianne, with her girlish tastes, would enjoy them.

“Thank you, Matilda,” Vivianne said with a bright smile. Her joy over such a small thing was endearing.

* * *

While Kian was away, Matilda arranged for a writing teacher to tutor Vivianne. Vivianne enjoyed the lessons so much that they decided to hold them daily. She began by learning simple characters and quickly progressed to words, showing a surprising aptitude for learning.

With Matilda helping whenever she visited, Vivianne made steady progress.

“How do you write ‘rabbit’?” Vivianne asked one day, her curiosity endless.

“You mean the letters?”

“Yes!”

“Here, like this,” Matilda said, writing the word “rabbit” in large letters on a piece of paper. Vivianne studied it carefully, then began copying it repeatedly while murmuring the word to herself.

“Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit…”

She pressed down firmly with the quill, her expression serious.

“You’re learning so quickly, Vivi. What did you practice today?” Matilda asked.

“How to write names.”

“Can you write your name?”

“Yes. I’ve practiced this a lot on my own,” Vivianne replied, grinning as she showed Matilda her notebook.

The pages were filled with her name, written over and over again.

Vivianne, Vivianne, Vivianne.

“You’ve practiced a lot. You must have memorized it by now,” Matilda said, impressed.

“Of course! I even practiced your name and Theo’s. Want to see?”

Vivianne flipped to the next page, proudly displaying more of her work.

Matilda, Matilda, Matilda…

Theodore, Theodore, Theodore.

Her efforts were touching, but one question lingered in Matilda’s mind.

“What about the master’s name?”

“Oh, I didn’t practice that,” Vivianne said.

“Why not?” Matilda asked, puzzled. It seemed odd, given how much Vivianne liked him.

Vivianne dipped her quill into the ink and wrote something large on the paper.

KIAN

It was the duke’s name.

“Theo taught me before, so I already memorized it,” Vivianne explained, scratching her flushed cheek with her fingertip, looking shy.

“Didn’t Theo teach you the surname too?”

“Oh, that?” Vivianne quickly wrote his full name.

KIAN VON LARSON

Since noble names were typically written in full, Matilda thought it was good Vivianne had memorized the surname too. But Vivianne pointed to the page with just his first name and smiled brightly.

“I like this one better.”

“Why?”

“That night, Kian told me to call him by his first name,” Vivianne said, her voice soft.

For someone as dignified as Kian to allow her to address him so informally—it was no wonder she felt elated.

“Do you like the master that much?” Matilda asked.

“Yes,” Vivianne replied without hesitation.

To leave such an affectionate young woman at home and go hunting for days—Matilda couldn’t understand her master’s intentions.

“…Do you think Kian won’t come back today either?” Vivianne asked, her voice tinged with longing.

Hunting schedules were unpredictable. Sometimes Kian wouldn’t return until he had caught something large, like a wild boar or deer. Other times, he stayed to dine with the lords of the territories where he hunted.

Matilda considered how to answer without disappointing Vivianne too much.

“He’ll be back before it rains, at least,” she said finally.

Kian disliked the rain. Did that mean she had to wait for it to rain?

The thought felt strange.

Still, she missed him terribly.

Though the idea was selfish, she secretly wished it would rain, just a little.

* * *

In the dining room of the Steward Marquis residence, Penelope Steward was having lunch with her mother, the Marchioness Steward, who had recently returned from the capital.

“Did you enjoy your time in the capital? The lilacs at the townhouse were so beautiful. I suppose they’ve all withered by now?” Penelope asked casually, noticing her mother’s stiff expression throughout the meal.

“Withered or not, lilacs are spring flowers. It’s nearly summer now,” the Marchioness replied irritably, her words sharp.

Penelope knew why her mother was upset but chose to respond with a faint smile.

“I couldn’t enjoy myself much, thinking of you left behind in the territory,” the Marchioness added.

“Did you come back early because you missed me?”

“What pleasure could I have staying there? Everyone I met, without exception, asked about you. I thought I’d die of embarrassment,” the Marchioness said, her frustration evident.

Though she generalized it as “asking about you,” Penelope knew they were inquiring about her marriage prospects. For a mother with a daughter past marriageable age, such questions were unbearable.

“I heard the Duke achieved great merit in the recent pirate suppression operation?” the Marchioness asked.

“That’s what I heard too, Mother.”

“They say the Emperor plans to award him a medal. This would be the perfect moment for the Duke to conclude his service.”

Penelope silently placed a piece of carrot in her mouth and chewed slowly.

“I also hear he’s brought in a toy. Did you know about that?”

“Yes. I’ve already seen her,” Penelope replied.

A woman in a plain maid’s uniform wearing ill-fitting, luxurious shoes. A pretty, delicate face. A petite figure that men would find charming. Her trembling fingers and pale expression when confronted by Penelope. And Kian von Larson, repeatedly calling her “Vivi” while shielding her from criticism. It had been quite the spectacle.

It all seemed orchestrated to provoke her.

“What are you going to do? It’s common for noble men to fall for unsuitable women, but delaying the marriage repeatedly is outrageous,” the Marchioness said.

“We’ll observe for now,” Penelope replied calmly.

“Your mother is dying of anxiety, yet you seem so composed.”

“Worrying won’t solve anything.”

The Marchioness, clearly upset, set down her napkin and pushed away her plate.

“When the eldest son strayed, we should have broken off the engagement. It was a mistake to soften our hearts for the late Duchess.”

“We agreed not to speak of that anymore.”

“How can I not be furious? Blood doesn’t lie. With common blood in his veins, he’s naturally drawn to vulgar things.”

“Mother,” Penelope interrupted, setting her fork down with a clatter. “Please don’t insult the Duke. He’s going to be my husband.”

The Marchioness scoffed, finding her daughter’s defense absurd.

“It’s like children. When you take away their toys, they only want them more.”

Penelope smiled calmly. “I’m keeping a close eye on things, so don’t worry.”

Children grow up, and toys eventually end up forgotten in storage.

That was the natural order of things.