The Fraser Hotel, which Bella had only ever seen in photographs, was far larger and more impressive than she had imagined.

As she stood there, taking it in, her gaze shifted and she met her own reflection in the glass.

She was wearing a long-out-of-fashion dress.

She had bought the shoes cheaply at a second-hand market, and they were already worn at the edges.

Her hair was tied back with an elastic band because she didn’t know how to plait it properly. Stray strands stuck out, making her look slightly untidy.

For a moment, she felt painfully out of place against the grandeur behind her.

‘I should have at least worn a hat.’

Bella ran her fingers through her hair as she watched the noblewomen enter the hotel.

Each of them wore a perfectly pressed silk dress without a single crease, accompanied by dazzling jewelry. They walked carefully in pointed heels that were clearly not designed for long distances. By comparison, she looked like a maid who had just finished hard labor and stepped out to run an errand.

‘Well… that isn’t exactly wrong.’

Bella awkwardly rubbed the toe of her shoe against the pavement.

This was a world that had nothing to do with hers.

Duke Fraser, the hotel’s owner and a man at the very height of the empire’s nobility, reigned supreme within that glittering world. And she —

— was just about managing to rent a tiny attic room in the capital. She did not feel worthy of stepping inside those grand doors.

The distance between them had never felt so vast.

‘I stand out just by being here.’

She could feel the sidelong glances directed at her. Simply standing on this street had drawn attention. It was clear that she didn’t belong here.

Bella took a few steps back, then almost ran away. Humiliation rose to her cheeks.

Ever since she had boarded the train, she had been preoccupied with one thought: what if she ran into the duke in the capital?

Now she felt foolish for ever entertaining the idea.

Their worlds were too different. In a city this vast, there was no chance of crossing paths by accident. Even if they did somehow brush past one another by the most improbable of coincidences, he would not recognize her. She had only been his companion for half a month. By now, he had probably forgotten her face — perhaps even her name.

Although giving her that name had felt meaningful to her, to him it had probably been nothing more than a convenient, temporary label.

A gesture without weight.

That was all a servant was to a noble.

The moment she accepted that truth, the frantic beating of her heart slowly began to calm. Swallowing the unnameable ache rising within her, she turned and walked towards the meeting place.

***

When Bella arrived, she checked the name again to make sure she was in the right place.

It was undoubtedly a luxurious restaurant. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a soft golden glow. Every guest inside was wearing smart shoes and tailored coats, and dresses that shimmered in the light.

She checked the name twice, then three times.

It was correct.

And yet, Bella could not bring herself to step inside.

Despite having put on her nicest dress for the occasion, she looked painfully out of place in the mirror.

A quiet sigh escaped her.

At the hotel, she had almost turned around and left.

This time, she could not.

The meeting had been arranged through the duchess. She could not cancel it on a whim.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The moment it shut behind her, the air shifted.

The noise dimmed.

An uneasy chill settled over her.

“Do you have a reservation?”

An employee approached politely, but his eyes swiftly scanned her from head to toe.

“Ah… well, I…”

Startled, Bella faltered. The duchess hadn’t mentioned that a reservation would be required when she told her about the location.

As Bella hesitated to answer, the man’s gaze sharpened noticeably. His expression became increasingly stiff.

“Miss Bella, I presume?”

At that moment, a smooth voice came from behind her.

When she turned around, she saw a man with dark skin and sharply defined features.

He had broad shoulders and rough hands, the mark of someone accustomed to physical labor. He looked slightly younger than in the photograph, but otherwise matched it.

“Jack Hunter.”

After informing the employee that Bella was with him, Jack held out his hand.

Bella stared at it, unsure what to do. Perhaps sensing her awkwardness, he gave a small, embarrassed laugh and withdrew his hand.

“Ah, I suppose such greetings aren’t familiar to a lady. It’s fine. Please, sit.”

Jack naturally placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her to a seat by the window.

“I assumed this might be your first time at a restaurant like this, so I ordered in advance. Just so you know, the window seats cost more than the ones inside.”

After seating Bella first, Jack returned to his own seat.

“I’m not sure how the countess described me, but I achieved success at a relatively young age.”

He did not seem inclined to let Bella browse the menu. As if to signal that she should focus on him instead, he rested his elbows on the table and fixed his gaze on her.

“My business is stable now, and I have more than enough wealth to pass on to my children. At this point, I’m looking for a wife who will bear and raise my child.”

“Ah… I see.”

“There are only three things I expect from the woman who becomes my wife. Firstly, she must not work outside the home. Second, she will not employ maids. And she must bear a son to inherit my business.”

As he extended each finger, his voice brimming with the confidence of a self-made man, he continued.

“I heard you worked as a maid for many years. In that case, I needn’t worry about the household duties.”

“May I ask… why you do not intend to employ a maid?”

“I believe household duties should be handled by the wife for the good of the family. There is currently someone who comes to clean, but once I am married, I intend to dismiss her.”

He spoke as though this were an unquestionable principle, as if the roles of men and women were clearly defined and beyond dispute.

“These days, if you have money, differences in status hardly matter. That’s why I don’t place much importance on a wife’s background. Normally, complications on the maternal side can cause unnecessary gossip. But in your case, Miss Bella…”

He offered a small, satisfied smile.

“There would be no such concern. I’d say that works in your favor.”

“Ah… yes. Thank you.”

The dishes they had ordered were placed on the table one by one, but Jack showed no intention of ending the conversation.

“Judging by your appearance, you seem rather modest in your tastes as well.”

His gaze settled on Bella’s dress.

“I like that about you. I have no desire for a wife who squanders the money I’ve earned.”

Her clothes were plain, but he seemed content to assume that she wouldn’t be extravagant with her spending.

At a loss for words, Bella struggled to decide how to respond. She could not tell whether he was complimenting her or quietly assessing her worth.

She wished he would just say that he disliked her. That would make ending this uncomfortable meeting far easier.

As the conversation continued, her thoughts began to drift. Despite not having eaten anything since the single piece of bread that morning, her stomach felt tightly knotted, as though she would be unable to swallow anything at all.

“You don’t look well. Are you alright?”

Jack asked as she merely cut into the blood-red steak without taking a bite.

“I’m just not accustomed to settings like this.”

“That’s perfectly fine. I much prefer someone as innocent as you to a woman who is overly experienced in meeting men.”

“Ah… I see.”

Bella gave a small nod and forced a smile.

‘Anyone at all—please, just make him stop talking.’

She wanted nothing more than to return to her lodging.

***

The meeting with the Minister of Foreign Affairs, which had begun that morning, did not conclude until early evening.

After concluding the lengthy discussion, Logan climbed into his car, closed his eyes, and leaned back, feeling exhausted.

Having become suspicious of the Everett family’s past dealings, he had already commissioned another informant to conduct further investigations. So far, however, nothing substantial had come to light.

‘Should I go and ask that maid?’

A faint, self-mocking smile touched his lips.

He knew that the uncertain memories of a woman would offer little clarity. And yet, he wanted to use that as an excuse to see her again.

The fact that she had taken his calling card and not contacted him once in the past few months — not even to apologize — bothered him.

He opened his eyes and glanced out of the window.

And then he saw it —

— a familiar silhouette passing by.

“Stop the car.”

The maid, who should still be in Rosedale, had no reason to be in the capital.

And yet, despite this rational doubt, Logan gave the order as though compelled by something deeper.