“Hey, you workaholic! You didn’t show up for lunch, and you locked yourself in your room, so I came to see if you were dead or alive.”

The man who strode in with his jacket slung over one shoulder was none other than Vincent. Seeing Bella seated opposite Logan, he approached her with a familiar, easy smile.

“You’re still here? What are you looking at?”

“I was helping the duke with his paperwork.”

“Paperwork?”

Bracing one hand against the desk, Vincent leaned towards Bella. He closed the distance between them as though such familiarity came naturally, and she did not step away. After glancing over the document she had organized, Vincent parted his lips in quiet approval.

“Oh? This is quite impressive. You were always a good reader when we were young, but I didn’t realize you had this kind of talent. If I’d known you were this capable, I would have hired you as my secretary long ago.”

“I’m only sorting them by category. I can’t manage anything too complicated.”

His praise carried faint echoes of their childhood, of reading together in secret before he left for boarding school. She remembered hiding in the attic with him, surrounded by books. A gentle smile brushed her lips as she reminisced.

“So what is it you came for?”

A low voice cut cleanly through the gentle air.

It was Logan, who had been silently observing the two of them from across the room.

Only then did Vincent, whose attention had been fixed on Bella since they entered the chamber, turn towards him. There was a subtle pressure in Logan’s gaze. Bella lowered her eyes instinctively when she felt it.

“Well, you see…”

Vincent stepped away from Bella, trailing off in his answer. Sensing that it would be difficult to discuss the matter in front of her, Bella moved to stand up.

“Stay seated, Bella.”

Logan stopped her mid-motion.

“I’ll be back shortly. You may rest.”

Without hesitating, he stood up, picked up his coat and cigarette case, and left. Beneath his brusque exterior, he felt quietly considerate towards her.

“…Bella?”

Vincent repeated the unfamiliar name that had just left Logan’s lips. He looked at her, as though to ask if that really was her name now. Bella nodded slightly.

A flicker of confusion crossed Vincent’s face.

“I heard she lived without a name at the count’s estate. Since she’ll be staying here with us, it’s inconvenient not to call her by one.”

Logan answered in her stead.

“And besides—it’s strange, isn’t it? Not to have a name.”

Beneath Logan’s indifferent tone lay a quiet scorn for the count’s estate, which had failed to grant her even a name for years.

“Ah, I see. I didn’t realize Your Grace took such interest in a servant of the count’s household.”

“While she stays here, she is my maid.”

“Yes, of course. Naturally. Bella, then. It suits you.”

Although Vincent’s words were slightly mocking, Logan’s expression remained unchanged.

Vincent still wore his usual easy smile, but there was a hint of irritation in his eyes. For someone who usually hid his feelings behind effortless charm, he was unusually transparent now.

Bella shifted uneasily, sensing the tension between the two men. But Logan did nothing to ease it. In fact, he seemed to sharpen it further.

“Don’t call her that. I’m the one who gave her that name.”

“Why not? Bella, Bella, Bella. It rolls off the tongue just fine.”

“In that case, perhaps I should help you become Bella instead. We can register a new identity for you.”

“That’s not a bad idea. If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve named her first.”

“You should have done so sooner.”

A crease formed on Vincent’s brow.

“Bella, don’t you need a surname? If you want, I could give you one.”

“With that much effort, why not help her find her parents instead?”

“I’ve already been looking.”

The situation escalated into a quiet battle over Bella’s name. Caught between them, she glanced back and forth, unsure where to direct her gaze.

Had she been wrong to accept the duke’s offer?

Was he searching for her parents?

Vincent’s unexpected words left her flustered. Seeing her discomfort, Logan was the first to step out of the room.

“If you have something to say, say it outside.”

“Fussy bastard. Always like this.”

Vincent grumbled as he followed him. Just before the door closed, he suddenly poked his head back through the narrowing gap.

“I’ll be right back, Bella!!”

Despite Logan’s warning glare, Vincent had a mischievous look on his face when the door closed behind them.

The incident occurred towards the end of dinner.

As the banquet was scheduled for the following day, the evening meal had started earlier than usual. Even the Duke of Fraser, who had been dining separately until then, joined them at the table.

Seated naturally at his side, Amelia looked as radiant as her two-hour preparation time might suggest.

The dining room was filled with light conversation — praise for the Duke of Fraser’s thriving ventures in recent years mingled with idle gossip about neighbors. The atmosphere was warmer than it had been in days, and having barely seen the Duke during that time, Amelia finally felt her mood begin to soften.

Until a single phone call shattered it.

Logan excused himself to take a call from the hotel. Although the conversation was brief, he returned to the table looking grave. Citing an urgent matter, he left the estate before dessert was served.

Vincent, who was rarely far from his side, followed without hesitation. And just like that, the dinner Amelia had been looking forward to so much came to an abrupt end.

Unable to stop her fiancé, who left her with only the vague promise that he might return the next day, Amelia could not hide her disappointment. Their time together was already painfully limited, squeezed between the relentless demands of his schedule. Losing even that small, fragile moment made the emptiness feel sharper still.

***

When Logan stepped away from the dinner table to take the call, Bella was in his bedroom.

The call did not last long. However, when he returned, he was clearly tense.

“Has something happened?”

“There’s been a fire at the hotel in Bellington.”

Logan yanked open the desk drawer and gathered the necessary documents, putting them in his bag. His movements were sharp and urgent, a far cry from his usual unhurried composure.

“Is there anything I can help with?”

“No. It’s fine. I intend to return quickly.”

Logan ran a hand through his disheveled hair and glanced around the room quickly. As Bella handed him his coat, their eyes met briefly.

“Until I return.”

For a moment, the emotion hidden beneath his composed expression came to the surface, revealing a fleeting hint of unease. But before Bella could make sense of it, he brushed past her and left the estate.

After he had gone, the head maid summoned Bella and questioned her at length about the duke.

Bella answered what she could with the little she knew. When asked why he had left so suddenly, she said she did not know.

The words felt uncomfortably close to a lie.

Yet she could not reveal what the duke himself had chosen to keep hidden.

“I hope it wasn’t a serious accident…”

By the time he left the estate, it was late enough for Bella to have finished her daily duties and returned to her bedroom.

She was sitting halfway down the quiet staircase, eating a piece of kitchen bread to stave off her hunger, when she sensed movement below.

“Did you see tomorrow’s guest list? There seem to be more noble young ladies than usual this year.”

“Not just young ladies. Even those highborn wives who usually send only letters are attending the party this time.”

“They’re all coming to see the Duke of Fraser, no doubt. It’s not every day one gets to see him in person.”

“And we’re the ones who’ll be worked to death because of it. The duke himself doesn’t even know when he’ll return.”

Without realizing it, Bella shrank back into the shadows. Through the gaps in the railing, she could see the backs of two maids below her.

There was nothing to hide from, so why had she hidden herself?

She was about to go downstairs when the following conversation stopped her in her tracks.

“So what’s going to happen to her? Didn’t she throw a tantrum when she became the duke’s personal maid? She only worked for one day before quitting.”

“She’ll probably spend the remaining time doing odd jobs before being sent back to the dowager’s estate.”

“I knew that would happen.”

“What choice does she have? She’s already fallen out of favor with the young lady.”

“Exactly. She should’ve stayed buried in the countryside with the dowager instead of coming back here.”

Bella didn’t need to ask who they were talking about.

If she moved now, would they accuse her of creeping around like a shadow again?

She hesitated. Just then, one of the maids glanced around, lowered her voice, and covered her mouth with her hand.

“Did you hear? The reason she was driven from the count’s estate to the dowager’s house?”