That day, Isabella was due to leave the estate with Maria, who was heading back to her hometown. Isabella, who was frail and often unwell, was going to visit her grandfather — the man who had raised her — for the first time in years.

However, Logan refused to let her go.

He insisted that he did not want to be left alone for two weeks. Beneath his stubbornness lay a fear that Isabella, already delicate even while living at the estate, might return to the countryside and never come back.

Ultimately, due to Logan’s insistence, Isabella stayed behind.

That night, she died in the burning estate.

“If I hadn’t stopped her, Isabella would have lived. Maria too.”

Upon hearing about the fire at the Fraser estate, Maria turned around and headed back towards the capital, having not even reached her hometown yet. She lost her husband and daughter in a single night. Unable to endure the shock, she soon took her own life.

Logan did not deny his responsibility.

It was not simply guilt; he was almost certain that he was responsible.

Scarlett was speechless for a long time.

She had only intended for the girl to be his companion, someone to keep him company. She had hoped that a gentle, innocent child might ease the loneliness of a boy who kept the world at arm’s length.

She had never imagined that her decision would have such devastating consequences.

“…For once, it seems your father was right.”

“If that child had never been here, perhaps you would not still be chasing illusions.”

“I should never have placed the two of you together in the first place.”

There was regret in her voice.

But it wasn’t grief for the girl; it was regret for her own misjudgement.

There had once been a time when Scarlett had felt sympathy for commoners. She had tried to look beyond birth and status, valuing ability and diligence over lineage. She had not dismissed those who lived outside the guarded walls of the nobility.

However, after her husband’s death and her near-loss of her son, her world changed.

A single servant’s mistake had reduced the estate to ashes. The head of the household had died, and the heir had nearly died too.

In an instant, she had almost lost everything.

Servants who had served the family for years fled to save themselves. Others crept back under the cover of night to sift through the charred remains and steal whatever they could find.

This disaster, which had almost stripped her of everything she held dear, had shattered her convictions beyond repair.

She was too exhausted to trust the world again. She had lost too much to be able to show compassion.

For the sake of her only remaining son and the restoration of her family home, she resolved to correct what she believed to be her mistake.

But why was Logan still bound to the past?

Scarlett could not comprehend her son, who was still haunted by the memory of a dead girl while neglecting the woman who had saved his life.

And yet… she knew.

She knew how much Logan had changed during Isabella’s time at the estate.

The boy who used to wear an expressionless mask and obey his father’s orders like a machine had begun to talk to her about the minutiae of his day. He had laughed. He had learned to consider others.

To Logan, Isabella was more than just a friend.

But Scarlett could not allow herself to acknowledge that.

To her, Isabella was a mistake of the past — a decision that could never be repeated.

A heavy silence settled over the dining room, born of convictions that time had failed to reconcile. The only sound to disturb it was the faint clink of cutlery as mother and son continued their meal in strained silence.

The flames had long since died.

But between them, the fire still burned.

***

About a month after he left for the capital, Joshua’s letter arrived.

The moment Bella saw her name written in his familiar handwriting on the envelope, she froze.

[Dear Bella.]

Her name, clearly written there.

A name that had once been spoken only at the Duke’s convenience had undoubtedly become her own.

In the past, envelopes had arrived bearing only ‘Dear’, as though her name did not matter. Receiving one addressed to her felt unexpectedly moving.

A faint smile curved her lips as she carefully broke the wax seal. Inside were two sheets of paper folded neatly into thirds. The letter began with a greeting that reflected Joshua’s steady, composed nature.

He wrote about returning to school and resuming his classes. He also mentioned the rumors circulating in the capital. He also wrote about the small, ordinary fragments of his daily life.

After filling the letter with bits of news, he ended by asking after her well-being and telling her to reach out anytime if she needed anything.

After reading every line, Bella sat quietly at the worn desk in the cabin.

She had meant to write a reply. But when she lifted her pen, she couldn’t think what to say.

She hesitated, wondering whether a careless word might hurt him. Might her unguarded heart disturb the sincerity of his feelings?

After a long pause, Bella finally began to write, her pen moving carefully across the page.

“It’s good to hear you arrived safely in the capital. I’m doing well. Netherwell is as quiet as ever. I recently cleaned the cabin where we used to play…”

She had only written a few lines when a sound from outside shattered the silence.

It wasn’t the wind rustling through the trees.

It was the heavy crunch of wheels rolling over gravel.

‘It can’t be…’

Bella put down her pen and hurried out of the cabin.

As she stepped out of the forest, she saw two carriages approaching the estate. Even from this distance, she could make out the crests emblazoned on their sides.

The Dowager Countess had returned.

Bella quickly rushed back into the cabin and slipped her book, notebook, and unfinished letter into her bag. Brushing the dust from her clothes, she hurried along the forest path towards the estate; her steps felt lighter than expected.

For the first time in a while, life began to stir within the estate, which had stood in quiet stillness for so long.

***

The once-silent country manor sprang to life the moment the Dowager Countess returned.

The servants who had accompanied her hurried through the halls, opening windows, removing covers from furniture and wiping away layers of dust. Gradually, the stale, motionless air gave way to sound and movement, as though the house itself were breathing again.

Bella naturally resumed her place among them and joined in with the cleaning.

Netherwell’s estate was quiet, but there was a gentle warmth to it; it was mostly staffed by older servants.

The Dowager Countess, however, remained as she always had been.

She dressed modestly, stood tall and straight, and her sharp gaze revealed neither age nor weakness. Even now, the pride and unshaken conviction of a noblewoman resided within her.

“I heard you returned early from Rosedale. What have you been doing in the meantime?”

“I studied, cleaned, and read.”

Bella stepped forward and offered the books and notebooks she had brought with her from the cabin. The Dowager Countess turned the pages one by one. Although she kept her expression composed, affection shone through in her eyes.

“You must be tired. Read aloud while I take a nap.”

At her request, as Bella had done many times before, she selected the book that appeared the dullest and began reading aloud.

“Your reading has improved.”

“Duke Fraser taught me.”

“Logan Fraser?”

The Dowager Countess, who had been resting with her eyes closed, opened them and looked at her.

“He visited for the young lady’s birthday. I attended to him at the Rosedale estate.”

“You must have managed that fastidious fellow well.”

Her tone carried a trace of mockery, revealing her less-than-favorable view of Logan.

“That family shines only on the surface. Beneath it, no one knows what they truly are—like snakes.”

She spoke critically of the House of Fraser.

Bella recalled hearing in Rosedale that the Frasers and the Everett were closely connected. As this memory briefly resurfaced, the Dowager Countess continued speaking.

“Still, his father was far better than the son. He wasn’t meant to die so meaninglessly — what a tragic end for someone so young. Now that James Fraser is gone, his son is chasing business deals and profit without the slightest regard for noble dignity. Hmph. These young people fail to understand that when one already possesses land and wealth, working for money only diminishes one’s status. Vincent is no different. Instead of devoting himself to studying in preparation for inheriting his family home, he is following in the footsteps of that kind of man.”

The Dowager Countess clicked her tongue in disapproval and fixed Bella with a steady, unyielding gaze.

“Do not carelessly believe those who prattle on about trade and reform. Remember that.”

“Yes, Dowager Countess.”

“Well? Why have you stopped? Continue reading.”

Having said her piece, she closed her eyes once more.

Lowering her gaze to the page, Bella resumed reading in a clear, steady voice.