The Sivert Marquis and his wife had lost their lives in the cruise accident.

Eleanor’s attention, which had been slowly turning toward Cayel, had no choice but to shift entirely to the enormous blow that had just fallen upon her.

“We can no longer remain with the Siverts!”

The knights of the marquisate, who had declared they would protect it with or without a lord, announced after some time that they were voiding their contracts of service and left the marquisate behind.

It was only natural.

After the late Marquis’s death, a successor had gone undecided for some time, and the marquisate, with only Eleanor, a woman, remaining, was precarious enough that its collapse would have surprised no one.

No matter how much a knight values honor, no one could stay on a sinking ship.

“I will stay, Miss.”

Yet remarkably, one knight remained to protect the Sivert Marquisate.

That knight was Cayel. Even when Eleanor decided to marry Marcus Damel, he quietly continued to protect not only the Sivert Marquisate but Eleanor herself.

Though it did not last long.

Marcus Damel, who had become the new head of the Sivert Marquisate through his marriage to Eleanor, filled the marquisate’s knightly ranks with his own people.

Marcus in particular found the scar beneath Cayel’s eye unsightly, and used his appearance as an ill omen as a pretext to drive him out of the marquisate entirely.

“What is this?”

Time moved on, and that winter.

Eleanor found Marcus in a foul mood over a black letter he had received from someone.

“What is the matter?”

“A strange letter has arrived.”

“A letter?”

“It looks like a death notice…… Cayel?”

“……!”

“Cayel, that black-haired knight who didn’t know his place? He’s dead? Why are they informing us of his death?”

Marcus clicked his tongue and twisted his face in displeasure, utterly indifferent to the news of the death in battle of the knight he himself had driven away.

He even tore the letter apart before showing it to Eleanor, on the grounds that Cayel no longer belonged to the family.

Eleanor, already cowed by Marcus’s frequent mistreatment since the half-year mark of their marriage, had no chance to stop his irritable outburst.

‘……Cayel.’

All Eleanor could do at the time was pray for the peaceful rest of Cayel, whom her father Arthur had cherished.

‘May you find peace there.’

Eleanor had taken to visiting the great temple on the outskirts of Korenca to escape Marcus’s eyes, and for a time she had offered prayers for Cayel.

But then why was Cayel……

“Miss?”

Eleanor surfaced from her deep thoughts and became aware of the gaze directed at her.

‘Ah.’

It was true that she had been momentarily startled, wondering why a Cayel who had died long ago was standing before her.

But in this present moment, where even Anna was alive and so was she, there was nothing that could not be.

Eleanor met the dark eyes watching her with curiosity and did not look away. She offered a faint smile.

“Of course I remember you, Sir Cayel.”

At her answer, Cayel’s eyebrow twitched in what looked like surprise. Eleanor continued.

“But why are you here, Sir?”

The garden pond was not far from the knights’ training grounds, but it was not common for the family’s knights to be stationed inside the estate in the capital, unless one was the captain of the order.

Of course it varied by the size of the family, but typically the knights’ quarters were located separately outside the mansion, or they commuted from their own homes.

“My apologies, Miss.”

Cayel answered, having understood her question.

“The cleanup at the training grounds ran late and I missed the time to return home. If I have caused you any discomfort, I apologize again.”

Whether conscious or not.

The tall man answered while subtly avoiding Eleanor’s eyes.

His head was bowed so deeply and with such thoroughness that his courtesy was almost disarming.

Having apologized a second time, he clearly had no intention of waiting for Eleanor’s response. He moved to turn sharply away, and Eleanor’s closed lips parted again.

“Wait, Sir Cayel!”

At her single word, Cayel’s rigid body stopped again. Eleanor glanced around and smiled.

“The moon is bright.”

Whether Cayel was surprised or not by her words.

She looked up at the sky filled with white light and moved her lips.

“I think I need to talk to someone to ease my mind…… If you do not mind, would you keep me company?”

Perhaps, in the past.

Her former self would never have stayed even a moment with an unfamiliar man she barely knew. She would never have been the one to suggest conversation first.

But the Eleanor of now had lived through the strange experience of returning to the past from the very edge of death.

She wanted to ease, even a little, the frustration she could not speak of to anyone, and she wanted to let some of it out.

Living quietly and obediently, and still being judged for it. If that was how it was going to be, then―

‘I am allowed at least this much of a departure.’

Eleanor smiled at him as he stood there surprised.

She spoke again. “The moonlight is shining on us both, so it could not be a better setting for a conversation.”

* * *

“Ellie!”

A new day had begun.

Eleanor stopped short at the sight of Baroness Gotren approaching her with a bright smile.

“What on earth happened to you? How ill were you? Hmm? Are you feeling better now? Can you get around all right? This aunt of yours could not sleep a wink from worrying about you. Are you truly all better?”

Baroness Gotren had barely crossed the threshold of the mansion before she launched into a stream of words without pause, making quite a fuss. She looked Eleanor over from head to toe with shining eyes. In the past, Eleanor might have found the Baroness’s behavior warm and endearing, but not now.

It was uncomfortable.

Thud.

“Thank you for your concern, Auntie. I am quite well.”

Eleanor gently pushed away Baroness Gotren’s arms as she moved to pull her into an embrace, and stepped back.

“Oh, oh my.”

Baroness Gotren appeared briefly puzzled by Eleanor’s clear drawing of a line, but quickly recovered and stretched that wide mouth of hers even further into a smile.

“Right, this is no time to be standing around. Nephew!”

A loud voice that clearly had been waiting for this very moment rang out.

Baroness Gotren turned and called out with full force, and Eleanor’s gaze followed to the space behind her.

Before long, a blond-haired man appeared over Baroness Gotren’s broad shoulders, making his way toward her.

A faint twitch crossed the corner of Eleanor’s mouth, but only for a moment.

The man came to a stop before her and let a subtle smile reach his eyes. As his face entered her view, her clenched fist tightened without her realizing it.

“We meet in person for the first time, Miss.”

Marcus Damel.

A man with brilliant golden hair like the midday sun and striking blue eyes.

He was the kind of breathtaking beauty that could captivate anyone, regardless of age or gender.

And now, that man was down on one knee at Baroness Gotren’s call, preparing to press his lips to the back of Eleanor’s hand.

[I wish I could be of even a little strength to you, Lady Sivert.]

Come to think of it, this was the period when Eleanor and Marcus had been exchanging letters.

If this were the Eleanor of before, her heart would have raced at the sight of him, having spent every day imagining the Marcus from his letters and finally seeing him in person.

She might even have flushed to her cheeks, like a girl struck by love at first sight.

‘But not anymore.’

Every illusion had shattered.

Eleanor stared quietly at the top of Marcus’s head as he waited for her to offer her hand, then narrowed her eyes.

“Miss―”

“Let us skip the formalities. The drawing room is this way, everyone.”

Despite having shown his interest first, Marcus had been growing quite puzzled by Eleanor’s prolonged silence. So when Eleanor suddenly turned away before him, Marcus’s shoulders gave a slight jolt.

“Ah. W, well then. Shall we move somewhere to sit?”

Marcus did not move, clearly taken aback by being ignored. Baroness Gotren’s voice followed quickly behind, changing the subject in what seemed like an attempt to smooth things over.

Eleanor paid it little mind and continued toward the drawing room.

“Anna. Please bring tea for our guests.”

“Yes, Miss.”

Eleanor arrived at the drawing room and took her seat on the sofa before the others. She spoke to Anna, who had come to her side, then studied the faces of the two as they settled into their seats.

Marcus had not been able to take his eyes off Eleanor since earlier, clearly sensing something off about her cold reception. Baroness Gotren, meanwhile, kept glancing between Marcus and Eleanor in turn.

‘Despicable.’

Eleanor received the two of them and exchanged nothing beyond ordinary pleasantries, then, less than ten minutes after Anna brought the tea, she let out the words she had been holding inside.

“W, wait, Ellie. What did you just…… say?”

Sure enough.

Baroness Gotren, visibly struck by what she had just heard, furrowed her brow.

Eleanor smiled at her.

“I said that while I am grateful for the trouble you have gone to on my behalf, Auntie, I already have someone who holds my heart.”

Eleanor Sivert added, “If it is not that person, I will not marry.”