“Tell me the truth. Where exactly are you planning to go?”

“To my second brother’s estate.”

Yelodia admitted.

Ever since parting ways with Edward the previous day, she’d been eager to share the news of her engagement with her second brother.

To be more candid, she wanted him to accompany her as a guardian when she met Edward again.

When she woke up that morning, the urge to rush to her brother’s estate was almost unbearable.

“You could simply visit the second young master’s estate with the servants, like any other noble family would do.”

Martha emphasized the word *normal* as she placed her hands on her hips.

“But that would mean sending a visiting card through a messenger and waiting for a reply. That’s a hassle—such a *huge* hassle. Just the back-and-forth of messengers takes two hours.”

Yelodia stressed *huge* and *two hours* with deliberate emphasis.

‘Why does she act so immaturely at times?’

Martha gazed at her seventeen-year-old mistress—nearly an adult in a few months—with a mix of exasperation and resignation.

“Fine. I won’t stop you, but at least let me accompany you this time. A noble lady with a fiancé shouldn’t be leaving the house without her maid.”

“That was before I donned this outfit. I’m not going on some grand journey to another country. It’s just a short trip to my brother’s estate.”

“Even so, I’m worried.”

Martha responded passionately, which made Yelodia feel a sigh creeping up.

Yelodia’s outings had long been a well-known quirk within the Duke of Xavier’s household. They could be categorized into official and unofficial outings.

For official outings, the Duke’s carriages—either the four-wheeled or two-wheeled—were accompanied by a proper entourage. However, for unofficial outings, she often went alone or with minimal escort.

This eccentric habit began when Yelodia was just thirteen.

Born frail, she had once fallen gravely ill around her thirteenth birthday. For ten days, she lay unconscious, burning with a fever that consumed her whole body.

Her sunken cheeks turned pallid, her eyes devoid of focus, and a shadow of death loomed heavily over her.

“Mother, I’m right here. I’m right here.”

Delirious from the fever, Yelodia murmured nonsensical words, plunging the Duke and her brothers into a sorrowful despair.

On the eleventh day, while everyone braced themselves for her passing, Yelodia woke from a shallow slumber and slipped out of the estate unnoticed.

What bizarre twist of fate led her to succeed in such a reckless first attempt remains a mystery.

Perhaps she simply thought, *If I’m to die, I’d rather do it outside than within these walls.*

Bleak or serene, it didn’t matter. She wanted to witness the ordinary lives of others one last time.

That first act of rebellion felt like a dream—a bittersweet taste of freedom.

Yelodia roamed the streets of the imperial capital freely, despite her burning fever, and later returned to the estate, collapsing in front of her late mother’s grave.

But she didn’t sleep forever. Miraculously, Yelodia overcame the illness, earning her the unofficial right to roam freely.

The Duke granted this privilege as a mark of respect for his daughter, who had defied death.

“Even if the Duke has approved, I can’t just let you go. Let me join you.”

“There’s really no need to worry. Discreet escorts always follow me during these trips.”

In truth, Yelodia was never entirely alone. The Duke, deeply concerned for his daughter’s safety, secretly assigned knights to shadow her during her unofficial outings.

Yelodia was aware of this, but she never openly acknowledged their presence.

Both the knights and Yelodia played along, pretending the other didn’t exist—an unspoken agreement.

Martha, however, seemed unconvinced as she firmly declared, “Regardless, I’m coming with you.”

“Martha.”

“I’m your maid, my lady. It’s lonely guarding your room by myself, and I can’t stand the thought of sending someone as lovely as you into the outside world full of ruffians.”

Yelodia sighed deeply. Clearly, the mention of the knights’ covert protection had gone in one ear and out the other.

“My Lady, is it alright if I collapse from worrying about you?”

“Fine. But you’ll have to dress as a man too.”

“What? Me? That wouldn’t suit me at all!”

Despite her words, a spark of innocent curiosity flickered in Martha’s eyes.

Yelodia immediately doused it with cold water.

“Martha, you’re taller and have broader shoulders than me. It’ll suit you better.”

“Well, that’s… quite a hurtful observation.”

Fearing Yelodia might change her mind, Martha hurried into the dressing room and picked out suitable trousers and a shirt.

“Not bad. It actually suits you.”

Looking in the mirror, Martha seemed a bit bashful, perhaps seeing herself as a sturdy young man. She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.

“Shall we go now?”

Yelodia shrugged, clearly unenthusiastic.

＊ ＊ ＊

The Captain of the Imperial Guard’s office was stifling, heated by the midday sun.

Fabian Xavier stood upright, conscious of the sweat trickling down his neck. His broad shoulders and towering frame made him the epitome of a strong, dependable knight, standing motionless for over half an hour.

Yet inwardly, Fabian cursed the empire’s fickle spring weather and the overly thick uniform of the Imperial Guard.

Of course, all his complaints remained in his head; his expression stayed solemn and composed.

At last, the captain affixed his seal to the joint training report Fabian had submitted. By this time, Fabian had imagined plunging his head into cold water about fifteen times.

“I heard the news. Congratulations are in order.”

“…Pardon?”

Fabian blinked slowly. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead, but he paid them no mind.

What could the captain possibly be congratulating him for? The only thing that came to mind was his younger sister’s engagement.

But such an important decision wouldn’t have been made without him. He racked his brain but couldn’t think of anything else.

“Ah, could it be…!”

Fabian’s eyes lit up with excitement. Has his wife finally conceived?

But his face quickly hardened.

There was no way the captain would know about his wife’s pregnancy before him, her husband—unless every servant in the estate had gone on strike simultaneously.

Then what on earth was this about?

“I hear your younger sister turned seventeen this year. It seems His Majesty is quite taken with her.”

“…Excuse me? With what?”

Fabian’s slow blink reflected his confusion at the captain’s words.

Seventeen? His sister? That couldn’t be right… Wait, seventeen?

“You can’t mean Yedi!”

“Ah, you didn’t know? Rumor has it that the Duke’s youngest daughter will be engaged to Baron Adrian by the end of next month.”

“What?! What did you say?”

Fabian was so shocked he could barely breathe. He racked his brain, trying to remember who this Baron Adrian was.

No matter how hard he tried, the blasted name Adrian didn’t ring any bells.

He had been so busy with joint training with the Lanpel Knights that he’d paid no attention to court gossip. And frankly, unless it concerned the Emperor’s safety, he had no interest in social matters.

The captain calmly explained to the baffled Fabian.

“Baron Adrian—the one His Majesty personally ennobled last month. The hero of the Battle of Phoenician Sea, whom you yourself praised so highly.”

“What?! That Baron Adrian?”

Fabian slammed his palm on the desk, the loud bang startling the servant waiting outside, who quickly entered.

“How could a man like Baron Adrian be engaged to our Yedi? Captain, are you sure this isn’t a mistake?”

“Well, from what I hear, even the engagement date is set. It’s unlikely to be a baseless rumor—I heard it from His Majesty’s chamberlain.”

Fabian’s shock quickly turned into fury.

“Who dares lay a hand on Yedi…!”

Grinding his teeth, Fabian’s nostrils flared with rage. His face reddened, and he felt as if steam were escaping from his ears.

He had entirely forgotten that he had once sung Baron Adrian’s praises as a hero of the Phoenician campaign.

“Wait, where are you going?”

The captain called out urgently as Fabian strode towards the door, his eyes blazing like a tiger’s.

“I’m filing for emergency leave effective immediately!” Fabian roared.