Oscar Midstern had just returned from a dull round of horseback riding with his friends.

“Hot day.”
Spring was finally beginning in earnest. The days grew longer, the air warmer, and the thinner fabrics of his clothes rustled with a crisp sound each time he moved.

Taking the stairs three at a time on his long legs, he quickly reached the study and knocked. His secretary, Aaron, stepped out and bowed.
“The master is waiting for you.”
“Good.”

With practiced tact, the capable secretary closed the door behind him and withdrew.

Lady Sina sat with her back to the sun at her walnut desk. Lowering the documents she had been reading, she spoke.
“You’re home early.”

The silver rims of her spectacles caught the light, flashing a cold gleam that sliced across Oscar’s lashes.

“One of them was thrown from his horse, and the game was spoiled.”
“And the injured man—he’s safe?”
“At worst, a broken bone.”
“I’m glad it wasn’t anything more serious.”

Lady Sina’s words carried the calm sympathy of someone offering comfort to an unfortunate subordinate.

Normally, that would have ended the mother and son’s sparse exchange. But this time, instead of leaving, Oscar lingered with an unreadable expression.

Lady Sina twirled her pen between her fingers and asked,
“Do you have something to say?”

“Has a new maid arrived?”

“No.”

“Brown hair, petite…”

“A beauty, then?”

“……”
Oscar opened his mouth, then shut it again.

Lady Sina set down her pen and pressed her temple, her gaze saying she already understood.
“She’s Rio’s tutor. She’s to begin next week.”

“I see.”

“You must have run into her on your way in. Did you exchange words?”

“As if I would.”

“Then?”
Her tone was dry, not an accusation, not even suspicion—simply asking why he would bring up a woman he hadn’t even spoken to.

That bland indifference rankled Oscar.
“I was only concerned something… unbecoming might happen. Father entrusted the family to us before he went away. It would be troublesome if rumors started.”

“……”

“I only hope, Mother, that your judgment isn’t mistaken this time. Though, of course, it rarely is.”

By unbecoming matters, he was alluding to the incident of last winter—
when the head maid, absent for an extended convalescence, had recommended a temporary replacement.

Lady Sina had strained herself covering up the scandal stirred by that lying maid, even having to increase her dosage of nerve medication. Strictly speaking, every matter of the household required her approval, so the blame for hiring such a person lay partly with her.

Which meant Oscar’s words about her discernment were anything but sincere.
Her son did not trust her. And deep down, she knew she bore the blame for that distrust.

“Yes. Let us hope this one lasts.”
With those weary words, she lowered her gaze.

Oscar studied his mother with eyes devoid of emotion—then turned away without the faintest hesitation.

***

Golden sunlight poured down like a shower of rain that Wednesday morning.

From a distance, the forest had seemed like a dark, endless sea. But once inside, it revealed shy glimpses of tender green beneath the canopy. The air in the depths was so cold and pure it seemed to freeze the lungs.

Even with her thick shawl pulled tightly around her shoulders, Mia shivered now and then. Today marked her third day working as a tutor in the Midstern household.

Reflecting on the past two days left her feeling stifled, so she had decided to walk without any particular destination. It had been the right choice. With every step, her head grew clearer, and confidence welled up that she could manage well in this place.

The chauffeur who had driven her to the estate on the day of her interview had spoken of the Midstern forest. He had said that, in the very beginning, this was all the Midstern family had—just this vast stretch of land. Nature’s bounty was everything in Braid Hills, and the first earl had devoted his life to cultivating that treasure.

The chauffeur’s words had been true. The spruce forest was breathtakingly beautiful.

The path wasn’t one carefully shaped by human hands but rather a trail worn by frequent footsteps. Mia followed the quiet track, deeper and deeper into the woods.

What might she discover?
She felt like a child exploring another world, her chest tight with excitement.

Before long, she glimpsed a flash of blue beyond the tall, dense trees.

“Wow!”

Her vision opened wide to reveal a glassy lake stretching before her. A faint mist hovered above the water, carrying with it a clean, fresh scent that tickled her nose. Beside the lake stood a small, charming cabin and a wooden pier.

“How romantic…”

As she had before, Mia slipped off her shoes neatly and wandered barefoot along the shore. Today she wasn’t wearing stockings, and the soft earth pushed up between her toes.

“Oh! Clover!”

Between clusters of nameless wildflowers, clover and rabbit grass peeked out shyly. Mia crouched down and brushed the pale-green sprouts with her hand.

“I used to be a champion at finding four-leaf clovers.”

Settling onto the grass, she searched intently through the patch, and before long she had found one.

“Hehe. Haven’t lost my touch.”

The Green family had lived on the outskirts of Rockfelt, where a quiet little station was the only sign of civilization.

She used to wait eagerly for her sister to return from school, then they would climb the hill behind the village to see who could find a four-leaf clover first. Since her frail sister grew tired just from the climb, victory was always Mia’s.

When her sister dozed off, panting from the effort, Mia would crown her with a wreath of rabbit grass. In return, her sister would fashion a ring from the same stalks and slip it onto Mia’s finger. She would wear it until the little ring withered.

“I miss you, Sis.”

Tonight, she would have to catch up on their shared diary. Sniffling, Mia pushed herself up from the ground—

Splash!

The water’s surface broke with a noisy spray.

“Goodness!”
Startled, she fell back onto the grass.

Splish, splash—

Something rose, tearing through the lake’s surface: a head of golden hair.

Even from the fleeting glimpse of his profile, Mia knew at once who it was.

“Oscar…”

Oscar Midstern—the second son of the Earl of Midstern.

From the very first meeting, he had been unbearably arrogant. She had spent days on edge, terrified she might be dismissed before she had even begun her work. Since that day, this was the first time she had run into him again.

“……”

Oscar moved with long, fluid strokes, his arms and legs cutting through the water with ease. There was such effortless grace in his movements that he seemed less a man than some powerful, aquatic creature entirely at home in its element.

Mia stared, entranced, for several minutes—long enough for him to notice her presence.

Shhhhk—

He emerged from the water—completely bare.

“…!”

And then he walked straight toward her.

Drip. Drip.
Water streamed down along the carved lines of his muscles. Mia’s gaze followed the rivulets as they traced his body.

It was a physique that inspired both reverence and envy.
Droplets pooled like a spring in the hollow of his navel, and below that…

Mia squeezed her eyes shut, unable to look any further.

Rustling—his presence drew closer.

“You.”

When she opened her eyes again, Oscar had wrapped a towel around his waist.

Drop.
A bead of water fell from his hair onto the top of her foot. The chill made her flinch.

“Do you have a voyeuristic streak?”

“……”

She ought to deny it, but her lips refused to part.

“Not even a defense?”

“That’s—”

“Must’ve been worth the look, then.”

Gulp.
Her swallow echoed loudly, like the ticking of a clock in an empty room.

Of all times…

As Mia’s face flushed red, Oscar’s mouth curved into a crooked smirk.
“Maybe I should charge admission. Wouldn’t feel quite so cheated then.”

With that, he held out his hand to her—an offer to help her up, perhaps.

After a moment’s hesitation, Mia took it. The chill of his grip bit into her skin, as though she’d grasped a handful of ice.

Straightening her crumpled skirt, she managed to speak.
“This is a misunderstanding.”

“What is? The way you hungrily devoured me with your eyes?”

“H-hungrily?!”

“You were staring right there.”

“I was not!”

“A shame. I’m rather confident in that area.”

“That’s—this is harassment. S*xual harassment.”

Mia mumbled the words, biting her lower lip. Oscar chuckled lightly in response.

The sound startled a flock of birds from the canopy, sending them scattering into the sky.

“And you spying on me doesn’t count as harassment?”

“……”

“Pretty face, but a pervert.”

“……”

“Begging me to have you dismissed, aren’t you? Hm?”

There it was again. That infuriating line.

Mia clenched her fists and lifted her gaze squarely to his.
“I was the one who got to the lake first. You came after. And it was you who decided to walk out like that… n*ked.”

“So our tutor swims fully clothed, does she?”

“I didn’t want to see you.”

“Wipe the drool from your lips before you say that.”

“You’re mistaken if you think everyone in the world adores you.”

“……”

“And don’t joke about someone’s livelihood.”

Her voice shook pitifully, but her face was resolute—as though she had staked her very life on this trivial quarrel.

Fine, then. Let her have that much. Mercy, after all, is something the powerful bestow.

When Oscar reached toward her, Mia flinched—
as if he meant to devour her.

But with a faint, scoffing breath, he simply plucked the four-leaf clover tucked behind her ear.

Rolling the pale-green leaf between his thumb and forefinger, he said,
“This will do. Your admission fee.”

“……”

“Be grateful. I gave you a discount.”

With that, he turned toward the pier.

The place where his fingers had grazed her ear burned as though seared by fire.

Clutching her pounding chest, Mia fled into the forest path as though running for her life.