“Mommy, I want to go out and see!”

The lively clamor of the city’s festival drifted in from the estate. Having spent several days exploring the Faradel mansion, Eve was naturally drawn to the excitement of the Harvest Festival.

“No, Eve. It’s dangerous to wander around carelessly.”

Luise held her daughter’s hand, trying to calm her down. The city was filled with priests for the festival. As long as there was no contact, it might be safe, but with a child who could dart off at any moment, Luise didn’t want to take the risk.

Eve’s rosy cheeks puffed up in protest.

Then—

“Let’s go together. I was thinking of taking a look around Faradel myself.”

A low, deep voice reached them.

Turning, she saw Shed standing in a black cloak at the end of the corridor.

“Bad man uncle!”

Eve, thinking her ally had arrived, abandoned her mother and scampered over, clinging tightly to Shed.

“Eve! His Grace is busy—”

“My schedule’s already finished.”

Unfazed by Luise’s protest, Shed took Eve’s hand. It was late afternoon and the long series of meetings and festival-related duties that had started at dawn had finally come to an end, giving him a short break.

‘Is this really all right?’

Her eyes asked the question.

Shed gave an easy nod.

“It works out well. It’s been a long time since I came to Faradel. A walk will do no harm.”

If priests were the problem, Shed could shield them.

“Get ready and come out.”

He disappeared ahead of them, tilting his head briefly as though to say he would be waiting at the main entrance.

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

Shed had dressed down, avoiding any hint of his rank. He wore a rough, plain shirt of hemp and black trousers. A shabby gray cloak half-veiled his face.

But as Luise watched, she wondered what such clothing could really achieve. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and he carried himself with such presence that he drew attention wherever he went.

In fact, within the Faradel fortress, there was no one else of his height and build — perhaps only Sir Carlisle, another Lupus knight, came close.

Luise worried that, the moment they stepped into the city, people would recognize him at once.

Yet her fear shattered as easily as brittle sugar. Even when walking right beside him, no one so much as glanced their way.

Perhaps it was because he bent down slightly to walk with Eve in his arms, or because he was accompanied by a woman and a child, but nobody seemed to think he could be the city’s lord.

Since the broken engagement, rumours had spread that the duke was no longer a man in any sense of the word. Because of that, no one could conceive of him carrying a little girl. Above all, Shed Lester had never been known as the kind of man who would be seen with a child.

Luise’s gaze lingered on him as he held Eve. Father and daughter, bound yet unknowing. Seeing them together struck her as strangely unfamiliar and achingly poignant.

Why was Shed so kind to Eve? Why was he sometimes so cold, yet at others so passionate?

“Mommy, why?”

Sensing her long stare, Eve tilted her head where she nestled in Shed’s arms.

“No, it’s nothing.”

Luise shook her head, then stretched her arms toward the child clinging stubbornly to him.

“Eve, do you really prefer being in His Grace’s arms? Won’t you come back to me?”

But Eve only wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, as though she might be pried away.

“I like bad man uncle!”

For the first time, Luise felt the faint sting of betrayal from her daughter. Eve knew well enough that if she returned to her mother’s arms, she might be told it was time to go home—so she clung all the more desperately to Shed.

Luise understood her child’s heart, and still, the moment shook her. It was the first time Eve had chosen another over her mother.

“Seems the child likes me better.”

Shed smirked, lips curling as he watched Luise’s incredulous expression. Around a child, her usually placid face bloomed with colors she rarely showed.

Then he felt a foreign gaze on him and turned his eyes to the crowd of festival-goers. The look that had fixed on him faltered and scattered quickly beneath his gaze. It had not been hostile. Still—

‘…I shouldn’t have let her come dressed like that.’

That was his misjudgment.

“It’s a festival. You may as well dress more finely than usual.”

He disliked her in her plain, worn clothes, so he ordered a maid to make her a dress.

It was a cream-colored gown with a lace hem and tiny floral patterns. It bore no jewels or finery; it was simple in every respect. Yet he thought it suited her well.

He was not the only one who thought so, it seemed.

‘Vermin eyes, swarming already.’

Even dressed in the plainest of clothes, Luise drew every eye. She was the kind of woman people noticed no matter how modestly she lowered her head, even in a maid’s uniform—whether it was to whisper in awe of her beauty or to mutter with envy.

It was nothing new. The servants of House Lester themselves often gossiped about her looks.

‘Quite irritating.’

Shed clenched his teeth against the stares that clung to them like gnats.

“Walk closer. Just in case.”

At last, his patience frayed. He caught her hand and pulled her to his side. Immediately, the stares that had gathered scattered, embarrassed.

“Mommy, don’t get lost. Hold hands tight.”

Eve’s innocent voice rang out as she looked at their clasped hands. To her, they looked just like a mother holding her child’s hand, or two friends walking hand in hand.

However, Luise paid more attention to Eve’s words and quickly withdrew her hand. Although it had felt natural before, her palm now burned with a strange heat.

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

When they reached the square leading to the temple, Eve’s mouth fell open at the sight of the great tree in its center.

“Mommy, what kind of tree is that?”

She pointed with her slender finger at the tree, lavishly adorned.

Lemons, grapes, oranges, olives, artichokes, figs, wheat stalks, dried mushrooms, and ribbons hung thick upon its branches. Of all the trees she had ever seen, it was the strangest.

Luise smiled at her daughter, who could not tear her gaze away.

“That’s the Tree of Plenty.”

The tradition involved giving thanks for God’s blessings by adorning the tree with that year’s harvest. Birds would come and peck at the offerings, and people believed that the richer the harvest, the more the birds and beasts would eat.

“I want to eat some too.”

Eve licked her lips as she watched the birds pecking at the fruit.

Luise, charmed, rubbed her daughter’s golden hair.

“That’s for the birds. Why don’t we go see what tasty things are over there?”

For the festival, stalls selling food and crafts had sprung up around the square.

Delighted, Eve toddled off towards them. The stalls were bustling with merchants, hawkers and customers, and it was so crowded that it was almost chaotic.

“Eve, you must hold Mommy’s hand!”

Luise caught up with her and pushed her way through the crowd. With every step, she worried that Eve might be jostled or trampled. Shoulders bumped them constantly as people pushed past.

After the peace and quiet of Janna Island, the crush of people and confusion made her feel dizzy.

Then Shed shifted, positioning himself between them and the crowd, shielding both Luise and Eve.

“Wait by the fountain. I’ll take her.”

He lifted Eve into his arms with ease.

Despite the place being packed with people, strangely, nobody brushed against his shoulder as he passed through the crowd. Given his height, it was easier for him to cut through it.

Reaching the stall required them to force their way through, so Luise raised her hands in surrender and nodded. She chose to wait by the fountain, letting Shed carry Eve off.

After ensuring that Luise was heading towards the fountain, Shed turned his attention to the stalls with Eve.

“I can’t see what’s there!”

Eve wriggled in his arms, craning her neck toward the booths crowded with people.

With a resigned sigh, Shed lifted her high and settled her onto his shoulders.

“Better now, brat?”

“Wow! I’m riding a horse!”

Delighted by her elevated view, Eve patted Shed on the head as if he were a horse. He raised an eyebrow at her, but what could he expect from a three-year-old?

“Bad man uncle, I want that one!”

She pointed eagerly at a stall from which a warm, buttery scent wafted—the crepe stand.

Shed strode forward, parting the crowd with long steps. At the approach of such a towering man, the vendor at the griddle startled, fumbling for composure.

“W-what can I get for you, sir?”

The middle-aged man forced a smile as he hurried to greet him.

“What’ll it be, brat?”

“That one! Cherry!”

Perched on the duke’s shoulders, Eve pointed to a crepe topped with cheap cream and bright red cherry jam.

“You always choose the most childish thing.”

Shed muttered, scanning the hand-painted menu and its pictures before speaking again.

“One cherry crepe. And an orange marmalade as well.”

“Y-yes, right away!”

She handed over the money, which the boy behind the counter quickly snatched and tucked into his pouch.

While the vendor spread the batter evenly over the hot griddle, Eve burst into song, overwhelmed with excitement.

“Round and round, the crepe man bakes~ The cherry taste, the birds can’t take~”

She strung together nonsense words with improvised melody, and Shed couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh.

Catching that sound, the vendor glanced up, seizing the moment to break the awkwardness.

“Your daughter looks just like you, sir.”

“…Daughter?”

Shed’s eyes narrowed, his brows knitting.

“When I first saw you, I thought you might be father and daughter. But when you smile, you look so much alike. You’re like two peas in a pod.”

The man chuckled heartily as he swirled the crêpe batter around the pan.