Chapter 3

The woman’s eyes widened in shock and darted around in confusion.  

‘So… so close….’  

That noble and handsome man was examining her face. The face that had always been frozen in an expressionless mask during the days she secretly watched him now moved as he spoke, and the liveliness of it was almost overwhelming. At the same time, her face flushed with shyness.  

The man’s hand turned her chin this way and that. His meticulous and persistent gaze, as if appraising her face for any defects, accompanied his actions. All the while, her own gaze, daringly, could not leave the man’s face. When else in her life would she ever have the chance to see the son of a ducal family—this handsome man—so close?  

Blinking rapidly, her violet eyes slowly adjusted to the bewildering situation, shining with naive curiosity.  

Finally, the man’s blue eyes locked onto hers. His gaze was as unrelenting as if it sought to devour her.  

Why… why is he doing this…?  

Though his eyes were cold, there seemed to be a dark flame burning deep within them. For a long moment, he stared down at her violet eyes without blinking once.  

“…Unbelievable.”  

The man muttered as if biting the words out.  

The woman looked as if she might cry. She knew she had done wrong. Yes, it was her fault for being distracted, but surely… surely this wasn’t a mistake worthy of such a devouring glare… right…?  

As tears began to well up in her violet eyes, the man finally released her chin, pushing it away as if to rid himself of a nuisance.  

“You said you’d wash it.”  

“H-Huh? Yes….”  

“Follow me.”  

With those words, the man abruptly stood up.  

She looked up at him with a bewildered expression, blinking slowly as she tried to figure out what washing the tunic had to do with him standing up.  

“I can’t exactly keep wearing this, can I?”  

“Oh, yes, yes, of course!”  

She bowed repeatedly. Sneaking a glance at Selma, she saw Selma hastily gesturing with both hands as if to say, ‘Just do as he says.’ Anyone could see that this man was the most powerful figure in the entire Eldorff Territory at this moment.  

“Fetch me another tunic.”  

“Yes, Sir!”  

The man gave a short order to one of his subordinates before leaving the hall without another word.  

At least I won’t have to pay for that tunic.  

She sighed in relief and followed the man out.  

***

Moonlight streamed through the window, faintly illuminating the quiet room.  

It was the largest and finest room on the third floor of Selma.  

Though the man had stayed there for four days, his belongings remained unpacked, as if to declare he had no intention of settling in. His luggage and weapons, placed on a shelf near the door, were the only traces of his presence. The bed, freshly made each day with wrinkle-free sheets, the coat rack on the wall, the tea table, the chairs—none of them bore any signs of use.  

The man stepped onto the luxurious wool carpet, which even the village chief’s house would envy, with indifferent steps. His shadow stretched across the room’s dim corners under the slanted moonlight.  

The woman stood there, staring blankly at the scene.  

The furniture and decorations were all rare items that even the Eldorff Castle would struggle to obtain, collected as a hobby by Selma herself. This room was so precious that Selma personally tended to it without entrusting it to a servant.  

Unable to bring herself to step inside, the woman stood just beside the doorframe, peeking into the room.  

She took in the sight of the most luxurious room in the village and the breathtakingly noble and beautiful man standing within it.  

Even her shadow dared not cross into the room. The dim hallway lights barely outlined her figure, which stopped well short of the precious carpet. Feeling awkward, she wiggled her toes.  

Then the man’s low voice broke the silence.  

“The door.”  

“Pardon?”  

“I don’t have the habit of undressing in open doorways.”  

“Oh, oh, yes, yes!”  

Flustered, the woman stepped back and reached for the door handle…  

“You need to take the clothes, don’t you?”  

Ah. She froze, her face stiffening as she stepped fully into the doorway. Her shadow finally melded with the room’s darkness.  

Standing just inside the door, she fidgeted with her clasped hands.  

‘If I soak it in hot water from the kitchen, the stain should come out….’  

Hoping the knight would soon forget his irritation, she mentally mapped out her route to the kitchen once she received the wet tunic.  

At that moment, the man casually lifted his tunic over his head and removed it.  

In an instant, his bare upper body was revealed. His movements were so unhesitant that her face flushed even more.  

‘They say nobles treat servants like furniture, but still….’  

It wasn’t so much indecent as…  

She had seen shirtless men before—on construction sites, in fields—but this was different. This was the noble knight’s body, someone far beyond her reach. And it was the body of the man she had fallen for at first sight….  

Gulping, she swallowed dryly without realizing it. Her violet eyes peeked over her messy bangs, scanning his form.  

Even his body was beautiful. His broad shoulders, his thick chest, his tightly packed muscles… they were nothing like the bodies of the rural men she had seen.  

‘As expected of a knight….’  

Even clothed, he had seemed strong, but without the tunic, he exceeded her imagination. As he pulled the tunic over his head, shook it out, and handed it to her, every movement made the muscles across his body flex and ripple.  

The droplets of beer she had spilled earlier still clung to his shoulder, glistening in the moonlight like the shimmering surface of a mountain lake in spring.  

She couldn’t take her eyes off the scene. Her face flushed red, and she didn’t even try to hide it. Her violet eyes darted over his body from beneath her messy bangs. For some reason, her toes tingled.  

“Are you going to take it or not?”  

The man’s hand, which had been extended toward her for some time, gave a small shake. The tunic he had just removed dangled from his fingers.  

“Oh, oh…! Yes, Sir Knight!”  

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t been paying attention to what was happening. She scolded herself internally as she hurriedly stepped forward.  

As expected of the largest room in Oedel, it took a few steps to cross the carpet to him. The moonlight angled across his face and body, making his masculine features and muscular frame even more pronounced as he approached her.  

Even that… is beautiful….  

She found herself distracted by the thought, even in that fleeting moment.  

And then—  

“Oh, oh no!”  

The worn tip of her leather shoe caught on the edge of the carpet. Though she had roamed all over Selma’s complicated tavern without tripping, today, of all days, her steps faltered.  

And what she grabbed to steady herself was—  

“Ah…!”  

The knight’s tunic, and beyond that, his hand and forearm. In short, she ended up clinging to his arm.  

“I-I’m so, so sorry…!”  

His forearm, which supported her weight, was firm and muscular. She barely managed to grasp its thickness with her hand. Surprised by its solidity, she froze for a moment.  

“I-I’m truly sorry….”  

She felt as though she might burst into tears.  

Why do I keep making mistakes? This time, I’m really done for.  

With her eyes brimming with tears, she couldn’t even think of standing back up. She simply looked up at the man’s face, as if awaiting judgment.  

“How long do you plan to hang on to me?”  

“I-I’ve committed a grave sin….”

The man’s face, as she looked up at him, was cold. Perhaps it was because his expression was illuminated by the waning moon of midwinter in the night sky of Magiella.  

I need to let go… quickly.  

If she let go of his arm, she feared she might fall onto him. Yet, if she tried to support herself by holding onto his arm, her legs and arms felt too weak to do anything.  

And the man seemed to have no intention of accommodating her in the slightest.  

As the woman struggled to move her feet and stand properly, the man’s free, thick hand sliced through the air.  

This time, he’s really going to hit me…!  

She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself. But the man’s hand moved in a completely unexpected direction. He brushed her face from below her chin upward, pushing aside the thick bangs that frustratingly obscured her features. His rough gesture caused her head to tilt back.  

What…?  

Her eyelids trembled as she cautiously opened her eyes. Her vision was immediately filled with the man’s cold face as he looked down at her.  

“…….”  

Just as he had done in the dining hall, the man scrutinized her face with an unrelenting gaze. His blue eyes moved busily, as if memorizing every detail—the angle of her curved eyebrows, the direction of her gaze, the texture of her eyelashes, and the width of her irises.  

Throughout it all, the man’s blue eyes shone brightly under the moonlight. She wondered if that light would blind her….  

The gaze was as cold as the eternal snow of the far north, and without realizing it, her own eyes began to tremble. In this dimly lit room, with no one to call for help, she felt like a helpless creature about to be devoured by a predator. Tears welled up in her eyes.  

“Are you a local?”  

“Y-yes… I think… so.”  

“Your parents?”  

“I-I don’t know….”  

“An orphan?”  

“M-my grandmother… was there….”  

Her mind became a tangled mess as the man’s seemingly purposeless interrogation continued.