When she arrived, the man at the reception desk asked for a sunny room. However, it was peak season and all the bright rooms had already been taken.

All of the bright rooms had been booked.

The only one left was on the third floor, on the left-hand side of the inn and perpetually hidden in shadow by the enormous walnut tree at the entrance. At least it would be quieter being higher up. However, some guests avoided the upper floors, complaining about the stairs, so she could not be certain whether this would truly be an advantage.

“Would that be all right?”

“Of course.”

When she smiled apologetically at him, the man responded with a warm, hearty laugh, reassuring her that it was fine and that he would take the room.

At the sight of the town’s quietly renowned figure, her two younger siblings instinctively hid behind her. But to Aillen, he was just another guest at the inn.

Even after his arrival, nothing truly changed. Life continued in its relentless rush. Whenever their paths crossed, he would politely tip his hat and offer her a gentle, courteous smile — and that was the extent of it.

“It seems you plan to stay here for quite some time?”

One of the townspeople, dropping by the dining hall, asked with feigned casualness, as though probing his intentions.

“I’ve heard the Friday gatherings held here are quite the talk of the town.”

That was his reply.

“People from the north—always so dull with their answers,” grumbled Uncle Rynan, who ran a small ranch.

The man merely smiled and dismissed it. However, when Rynan noticed where the man’s gaze had fallen, he smiled with understanding.

On the night of the long-awaited party, the crowd was larger than usual. Aillen burst into laughter when she saw her father quietly sigh.

“What? More people means more money—and more liveliness. That’s a good thing.”

“That’s easy for you to say—you’re young. Just thinking about hauling all those barrels makes my back ache already.”

“Maybe you should’ve gone on more walks. Or exercised a little.”

It was Haila, her younger sister, who casually touched the sore spot that their father, Nathan, had tried so hard to ignore.

Lifting a heavy barrel with effortless ease, she remarked brightly that with a little exercise, lifting something like this would be easy.

Their younger brother, Riman, nodded in agreement as he chewed one of the lamb skewers intended as a starter. Meanwhile, Nathan scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish and slightly embarrassed.

“Riman, hold the skewer in your hand while you eat. You’re going to stab the roof of your mouth like that.”

Aillen offered the warning quietly as she lifted another barrel.

“Okay, sister.”

With his usual sulky tone, Riman quickly finished the skewer. It seemed he meant to hurry and lend a hand.

“Oh, no, no. Children should be off playing. Your mother and I will take care of the work, so go on and put some music on.”

“Your father’s right. If everyone keeps running around in here, it’ll only get more chaotic.”

Her mother replied curtly, wiping her damp hands on her apron. Aillen smiled as she responded, knowing that they were only saying that so that the children could enjoy themselves.

“Once we move this, I’ll go play even if you beg me to help. Haila, Riman—go put the needle on the record.”

“Charlotte’s?”

“Charlotte.”

Charlotte was her favorite performer. She was renowned in the south of the country for her fast and lively music.

The twins kicked up clouds of dust as they hurried through the back door.

“You really do love making things hard for yourself.”

“If you keep saying that, I’ll drop this barrel right here and march inside.”

“Oh, how frightening.”

As her parents carried the remaining ingredients out of the storage room, her mother snickered quietly. Meanwhile, Aillen hurried to tidy the kitchen.

Every so often, when she stood up straight and looked around, she had the strange feeling that she made eye contact with the man, but she told herself it was only her imagination.

About half of the guests were dancing to the loud music, while the rest gathered in small groups, sipping traditional liquor and chatting animatedly. By the time Aillen joined them, the atmosphere was warm and vibrant. Townspeople who noticed her stepped aside with knowing smiles, allowing her to pass.

Thanks to them, she was able to make her way easily into the center of the room, which had now been transformed into a lively dance hall.

From that moment on, the night seemed to belong to her.

Just as she lifted the hem of her skirt and struck it sharply against the floor, a man stepped forward. He had been leaning against the wall, seemingly waiting patiently for this very moment.

From his graceful bow to the hand he extended towards her, he seemed to belong not to their modest inn, but to a grand ballroom of high society.

“May I have the honor of a dance?”

“By all means.”

His polished courtesy seemed slightly out of place at a celebration where anyone could step onto the dance floor and start dancing without any formality. Nevertheless, Aillen responded with a playful mock curtsy, taking his hand and lifting the mood effortlessly.

As they moved together, the party’s energy swelled around them. She felt the weight of curious gazes on her, which was somewhat burdensome but not unbearable. She found that the sight of proper waltz steps unfolding in such a rustic setting had a gentle absurdity to it.

Aillen’s cheeks, warmed by the traditional liquor, glowed softly beneath the amber lights. Her hair, left loose and unbound, fluttered like fine organdy each time she spun.

This was not the first time someone had asked her to dance.

And yet, that night felt different.

The air shimmered as though dusted with fairy powder.

“Call me Calix.”

The man had said, smiling.

***

Even after the party had ended, the man stayed at the Grandel Inn, spending almost a week lingering at her side.

Aillen knew it was a form of courtship.

She neither pushed him away nor welcomed him fully. In every thoughtful gesture he made, she sensed something she could not quite name. She could not explain why, but she had a quiet feeling that one day she would leave for a faraway place. This secret expectation made her heart flutter so much that she almost mistook it for love.

And yet, she could not ignore the faint sense that this feeling was different from the love described in romantic novels.

Despite this subtle discord echoing within her, Aillen gently took Calix’s hand and accepted his proposal.

“Isn’t it too soon?”

“Make sure you contact us as soon as you arrive.”

Her father was worried, but he kept it to himself. Meanwhile, her mother gently encouraged her forward. Aillen maintained her steady smile, knowing how deeply her parents felt about the impending separation. If she showed even the slightest sign of emotion, she knew it would reduce them to tears.

It was only later that she learned that the twins, who had been hiding in the bushes and watching the proposal, had run back to the inn in tears.

It wasn’t that she didn’t feel sad herself. She did. Sometimes, she felt a sudden, painful twist in her stomach and an overwhelming urge to undo everything and pretend it had never happened. However, the prospect of a new life ahead of her dispelled her doubts more effectively than any reassurance could have done.

Now she realizes that it was not love.

It is only now, far too late, that she realizes this.

Though she did not realize it at the time, Aillen was remarkably skilled at deceiving herself.

Until she arrived in the North and for a month or two afterwards, she truly believed that she loved Calix.

***

Calix was gentle.

When she told him that she had never ridden a train before, he insisted that she sit by the window and looked after her for the entire journey, repeatedly asking if she was all right. At times, he seemed ready to feed her himself if she hesitated at all.

His constant attentiveness made her feel more uneasy than she cared to admit.

Aillen had grown up racing through forests and along riverbanks. In her village, she was known as one of the best runners and riders. No one had ever treated her as if she were a fragile glass ornament that might shatter at the slightest touch.

At first, she told herself that he behaved that way because he cherished her, and she suppressed her irritation. However, as the novelty of the train journey wore off — after she had walked back and forth between the dining car and their compartment countless times — her initial excitement faded. Calix’s careful hovering began to cling to her like damp air that refused to dry.

Whenever she felt impatient, she would study his face and remind herself that she had chosen this life because she loved him.

Fortunately, before her patience finally gave way, the northern landscape came into view.

It had taken ten long days.

The North was much denser than the South, with buildings standing close together and busy streets. Long lines of cars streamed steadily along the roads.

Cars.

Aillen had only ever read about them in novels. There were none in Titt, so seeing them disappear down the avenues was like witnessing an entirely new species in motion.

If one were being generous, the city was impeccably orderly. The trees lining the boulevards stood in rigid rows like identical twins, so precisely aligned that they seemed as though they would be struck down for daring to stand even half a step out of place.

But more than anything else, it was the cold that made the deepest impression.

The North was far colder than she had imagined.

This was her first glimpse of the northern metropolis, Rinamoth.

Still unable to quell her curiosity, Aillen wandered near the station while Calix stepped away to summon a driver. Yet the city’s rigid atmosphere bore down on her more heavily than she had expected. It felt as though her heart was slowly freezing too.

However, she reassured herself that if she gave it time and explored, learning the ways of the North, she would eventually come to love it, too.

She was gazing up at a towering spire piercing the sky when a car sped past.

For a moment, she almost stepped into its path. It wasn’t a carriage; she had almost been hit by a car. Calix, his face drained of color, pulled her back just in time.

The speed was unlike anything she had ever experienced.

Still frozen in shock, she felt his hand clamp tightly around her wrist. Holding her there as though he was afraid she might vanish again, he spoke in a low, steady voice.

“This isn’t the South, where there are only carriages and they only pass by once every three hours. Until you get used to it, it’s best not to wander around carelessly.”

“I’ll be careful… But the entire South isn’t like that. Titt is small, that’s all—but don’t judge the whole region because of it!”

“You know what I mean.”

Although she felt irritated, Aillen remained silent. After all, she had acted impulsively.

Had she known that his words meant she would be confined to the Aeinham estate for months, however, she would have turned back immediately and caught the next train south.

The estate loomed before her, shrouded in darkness: ancient, imposing and suffocating, as though announcing the fate that awaited her. Silver fencing encircled it, glinting coldly like an impenetrable barrier.

Calix Aeinham.

It was only after accepting his proposal that she had learned his surname. As Miriam had mentioned, it was indeed the same name as that of the largest general store in the north. En route to the estate, she had seen the massive Aeinham sign more than once; its bold letters were impossible to ignore.

When the grand doors of the mansion finally opened, it was Calix’s mother who greeted them first.

She wore an antiquated gown that looked as though it had been lifted from a century past, along with a delicate lace shawl over her shoulders. She greeted her son with unmistakable warmth.

But the moment her eyes fell on Aillen, her expression turned cold.

Aillen then learned the truth: Calix had been promised to another woman for some time.

There was no misunderstanding, no room for doubt. Leaving Aillen standing on the doorstep as though she were something improper that could not be allowed inside, Calix’s mother began speaking at once of her son’s engagement.