When the banquet finally ended, Bella slipped out of the ballroom and made her way to the duke’s bedroom.

Now that he had returned to the estate, it was her duty to look after him.

Knowing how exhausted he must be after such a relentless schedule, she carefully straightened the bedding and prepared a basin of water for washing. As she tidied the room, which was still cluttered with the documents and luggage he had hastily packed, her thoughts drifted back to the two figures she had seen in the ballroom.

Dancing with their arms around each other’s waists, they had looked like the perfect pair — even to her, someone who knew nothing about high society.

Any lingering doubts about the distance in their relationship would likely vanish after tonight.

‘…Why did I do that?’

Bella had ignored the piercing gaze she had felt ever since the Duke arrived, but she only lifted her head once. When murmurs of admiration rippled through the hall, she took an unconscious step back.

Once again, the duke was looking at her.

‘It must have been a coincidence. There’s no way His Grace was looking at me.’

How could an ordinary maid like herself possibly catch the attention of a man with such a beautiful woman by his side tonight?

Lost in thoughts of the ballroom, Bella repeatedly punched the cushion before carefully reshaping it.

‘Focus. Focus.’

Perhaps it was because serving the duke had become physically easier that idle thoughts kept creeping in. She shook her head sharply to cast off such improper thinking and forced herself to concentrate on her duties.

Logan returned when the hour hand of the mantel clock was nearing midnight.

Perhaps he had drunk too much in the lively atmosphere; his usually steady steps wavered slightly.

“…Ha.”

Logan slumped onto the sofa and loosened his tie. The immaculate gentleman he had been only moments ago had been replaced by a disheveled and unguarded version of himself in front of Bella.

Taken aback by this unfamiliar sight, Bella hesitated, then quietly offered him a glass of water and went over to him.

Had the matter at the hotel not been resolved smoothly? Or was he simply exhausted from travelling between Bellington and the Count’s estate in one day?

Questions filled her mind, but she didn’t voice any of them.

Although she lived closer to the world of nobles than most, she would never be one of them. A servant’s foremost rule was to neither pry nor offer an opinion, no matter how small the matter, unless the master spoke first.

Even her concern that he might get a sore back from sleeping on the sofa felt like an overstep.

“Are you not going to ask how things went at the hotel?”

As she stepped back to watch him, she saw him press his forearm to his forehead as though battling dizziness. The duke stopped her.

Had he seen through her thoughts?

Bella hesitated before answering softly.

“…How did things go at the hotel?”

“The worst.”

Logan answered without a second’s hesitation.

“The annexe has collapsed. We’ll have to compensate the other guests. The smoke smell will linger for months, so we’ll have to cordon off the surrounding area. The damage is extensive. Once the news hits the front pages tomorrow morning, those waiting to tear me down will pounce.”

This incident was significant enough to shake Fraser Enterprises to its core.

Bella said nothing in response to the dry, almost self-mocking tone in his voice.

“A guest died at the hotel, yet here I am, brazenly attending a banquet. That’s the kind of gossip they’ll spread. But if I had cancelled every engagement and focused only on the accident, it would have looked as though Fraser Enterprises were on the brink of collapse. So I had no choice but to be here tonight.”

Weariness weighed heavily in his voice.

The Duke of Fraser, celebrated as the most perfect man in the Empire, now looked fragile.

Bella watched him with quiet concern. Nevertheless, he had returned to the count’s estate for his fiancée’s sake. She did not know what words could possibly bring him comfort.

Would her words of comfort even matter?

She could not, however, simply respond with an insincere “I see” and feign indifference. After a brief pause, she chose her words carefully.

“If there is anything I can do to help, please tell me.”

“Why? Will you comfort me?”

Logan’s eyes shifted to her.

“If Your Grace wishes it…”

Before she had finished speaking, Logan stood up from the sofa.

In an instant, the distance between them was closed.

They were so close that their breaths almost touched. Bella squeezed her eyes shut.

Complete silence fell — so complete that even the sound of breathing seemed absent.

Logan studied the woman before him; her tension was unmistakable. Her hands were clasped tightly together as if bracing herself for whatever he might do, and they trembled faintly.

“And what exactly did you think I would ask of you?”

A short, humorless laugh escaped him.

Why was he standing so close to a maid who couldn’t even look him in the eye? He didn’t want to tease a woman who was acting as though he were a libertine.

“You shouldn’t say things like that so carelessly in front of a man.”

His gaze lingered briefly on her tightly pressed lips before he lay back down.

“Especially not alone in a man’s bedchamber.”

His voice, low and edged with warning, filled the room.

“It’s late. Go back and rest.”

Logan glanced at the clock on the table.

It was well past midnight.

“Th-then… I’ll take my leave.”

It was only then that Bella seemed to regain her senses. Unable to lift her head, she hurried out of the room.

When the door closed softly behind her, Logan allowed the mask-like smile he had worn all evening to drop in the silence of the room. Not even a trace of amusement remained on his face; unfiltered emotion surfaced instead.

“I saw someone who looks like that child. She looks so much like her mother, Maria—I nearly thought the child had grown up and returned.”

“At the count’s estate? A maid?”

“A maid, yes… Wait. You already knew?”

“I couldn’t not know.”

“Still… There’s no way, right? Lady Everett said she grew up in an orphanage and has been employed by the count’s family since she was little.”

A conversation he’d had during the banquet with his cousin, Rebecca Risely.

Logan did not need her to say the name. He knew exactly whom she meant.

After all, the first time he had seen Bella, he too had mistaken her for the one who had returned.

“I’m ridiculous. I know the dead don’t come back to life, and yet whenever I see someone similar, I can’t help myself. I have to check.”

For a brief moment, Rebecca had mistaken the maid for a girl who had once lived at the Fraser estate, but she soon realized her mistake from the look in Logan’s eyes.

The girl she remembered and the maid standing before them were not the same person.

Rebecca smiled faintly as she reminisced about the girl — someone she had been close to, just like Logan. However, when she saw Logan standing in silence, gazing down at the banquet hall, her smile faded.

“If you’re even thinking of taking her to the capital, stop.”

Rebecca’s voice—usually clear—came out cold and sharp. Logan turned, his slanted gaze landing on her.

“I’m not saying this for you. I’m saying it for that maid.”

Under Logan’s chilling stare, Rebecca took a steadying breath and continued.

Logan’s fixation on the girl was abnormal — so much so that it never truly ended, even after she died in a fire. After searching the site and failing to find her, they found out that she had died, and Logan fell silent. He was struck by aphasia and remained unable to speak for years.

“You know it too. If Aunt finds out, you know what will happen to her.”

After becoming a widow, the Duchess made every effort to care for her son.

Concerned about Logan’s violent outbursts when he saw anyone who resembled the girl, she replaced all the servants on the estate with people who had blonde hair and light eyes. She even arranged for a psychologist who specialized in hypnotherapy to visit the estate weekly, a treatment that was rare and unconventional at the time.

Yet the unspoken rule, known only to a select few within the household, remained in place even after Logan had recovered his speech and his therapist had declared him free of trauma.

It was as though she was determined to erase the girl entirely from his life.

“Let her go now. The more you chase after the dead, the more you’ll only torment yourself.”

In response to Rebecca’s quiet reprimand, Logan pressed his lips together.

He knew.

The girl had died a long time ago and he would never be granted the miracle of her being returned to him.

And yet, she had vanished without leaving even a body of ashes behind. For Logan, who still harbored doubts about her death, she had become an attachment that he could not let go of.

‘If you are alive somewhere—’

“I must be losing my mind.”

Logan covered his eyes with both hands and let out a hollow laugh.

Even in a moment like this, he couldn’t stop thinking about the maid’s face.

A deep sigh escaped him.

Did he want the maid to be the dead girl simply because she resembled her?

Or was it because he felt something more?

The emotion he could not define continued to grow quietly within him.