2. Attraction (Part 2)

A few hours later.

Cecilia walked through the garden with Ethan. As she had written in her invitation to him, the greenery of the garden, now in full bloom, was breathtakingly beautiful. Cecilia tilted her head back, staring blankly at the leaves swaying in the breeze.

Despite having every reason to be curious, Ethan didn’t ask about Matthias. Cecilia, who didn’t want to dwell on the marriage proposal either, was grateful for his restraint. As they walked in silence, Ethan suddenly spoke.

“Honestly, I thought you’d say no.”

“To what?”

“To this walk. You’re always so busy, after all.”

Cecilia’s eyes widened slightly. It was an understandable assumption. Ethan had been at the estate for over two weeks, but aside from mealtimes, they had barely crossed paths.

Cecilia chuckled softly and nodded. 

“That’s true. I’ve been busier lately. There’s been a lot on my mind.”

“Such as?”

“Well, for starters, Merilyn’s debutante ball is coming up. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime event for a noblewoman. I want to make sure everything is perfect for her.”

“I’m curious—how was your own debutante ball?”

At his natural question, Cecilia’s fingers froze mid-step. When she glanced up, she saw Ethan’s face alight with pure curiosity. His expression seemed to say he wanted to know everything about her.

“I don’t remember.”

Ethan tilted his head quizzically. Cecilia turned away from him and took a long stride forward.

“Truly. I hardly remember anything from that time. My parents passed away around then, and I had to take over as head of the family. I was living in a daze.”

“Ah…”

Ethan stopped abruptly. Puzzled, Cecilia turned to look at him. His face had gone pale. He seemed deeply troubled, as if his question had reopened an old wound.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. Really, there’s no need to look like that.”

Cecilia smiled sincerely. She felt a little guilty about something that had been on her mind since reading his letters.

“If anything, I feel a bit sorry toward you. I never told you about my father’s passing. I knew you kept sending letters to him even afterward.”

“It’s alright. I understand that you must have had too much on your plate.”

“Thank you for saying that.”

As Cecilia walked alongside Ethan, she brought up various topics—memories of her father, stories about her younger sisters, and more. Though she wasn’t usually one to share much about herself, she found herself talking more freely in front of a man who listened as if every word she said was the most fascinating story in the world.

It was as they were passing through the rose garden, where the flowers were beginning to wither.

“Ah.”

Cecilia frowned and stopped in her tracks at the sharp prick she felt. Her hair seemed to be caught on something. Ethan, who had been walking a couple of steps behind her, quickly approached.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

He said as he examined the back of her head. 

“It looks like your hair got tangled in the rose vines.”

“…Yes, it seems so.”

Ethan’s broad chest filled Cecilia’s field of vision. She was a little startled but stiffened her posture to appear unaffected. The scent of soap, the same kind she used, wafted from him. The fragrance was surprisingly strong, and she unconsciously twitched her nose.

‘Was it always this fragrant?’

Ethan began to untangle her hair with his long, sturdy fingers. His low voice rumbled above her head.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“It’s quite tangled…”

Ethan leaned in closer, and Cecilia felt a wave of heat radiating from him.

‘He must run warm.’

Cecilia instinctively lowered her eyelashes, her shoulders shrinking slightly as she inhaled awkwardly.

‘This feels almost like being embraced.’

Even someone as composed and reserved as Cecilia couldn’t remain entirely indifferent in such close proximity to a man. She could feel the muscles beneath his thin shirt shift with every movement he made. Though she had always thought he was large, their physical differences felt even more pronounced at this close distance.

Rustle.

She felt her hair fall softly against her back. Ethan had finally freed it. His body slowly retreated from her, and for a fleeting moment, Cecilia felt a faint sense of regret.

“It’s done now.” 

She said in a slightly stiff voice.

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

As Cecilia slowly lifted her gaze, her vision was filled with Ethan’s face, flushed as red as an apple. Not just his face—his ears, neck, and even the exposed skin peeking through his unbuttoned shirt were all tinged pink.

Cecilia’s eyes widened in surprise. All he had done was untangle her hair, and yet he was blushing from head to toe. She could imagine his heart pounding wildly.

Despite his embarrassment, Ethan didn’t avert his gaze. His clear eyes were fixed squarely on her, filled with her reflection.

‘I’ve fallen for you.’

His raw sincerity radiated from every inch of his being, carried by the tepid evening breeze. Cecilia stood still, her expression unreadable, staring quietly at his handsome face. His blush deepened under her gaze.

Cecilia couldn’t understand this man who looked at her as if he were bewitched. She was four years older than him, not exceptionally beautiful like Merilyn, and had a reputation as the Ice Witch of Belfort. She only knew how to protect herself, not how to melt someone’s heart.

With Matthias’s cruel words from earlier still lodged in her chest, the sight of Ethan, standing before her with his entire body flushed, caused a small ripple within her. Somehow, she felt comforted by him, even though he was likely unaware of it.

Cecilia’s lips parted slightly.

“Ethan.”

“Yes.”

He responded immediately, as if he had been waiting for her to call his name. Cecilia, smiling faintly, asked impulsively, 

“Are you good at drinking?”

***

In Cecilia’s study.

“Cheers.”

The two clinked their glasses lightly as they sat side by side on the guest sofa. Though they exchanged occasional words, they spent more time quietly emptying their glasses. By the time they finished their first bottle and opened a second, Cecilia’s cheeks had taken on a faint pink hue.

Feeling a pleasant buzz, Cecilia refilled her glass. Ethan, though outwardly composed, seemed more relaxed than usual, his typically rigid posture slightly softened.

Leaning back against the sofa, Cecilia said, 

“Now, I’d like to hear your story.”

Ethan’s eyes widened slightly. 

“My story?”

“We only talked about me in the garden. It feels unfair.”

After hesitating briefly, Ethan began to speak. He shared how he first met Cecilia’s father at the orphanage and recounted his school days, where he was a quiet yet standout student. Though much of it was similar to what he had written in his letters, hearing it in his voice gave it a fresh resonance.

Perhaps it was the alcohol, but Ethan seemed much more at ease with Cecilia now. He remained polite but occasionally cracked jokes. Cecilia could easily tell that this was closer to the real Ethan, and she didn’t mind it.

“You were such a diligent student.”

Cecilia laughed as she set her wine glass on the table. With a playful tone, she asked, 

“Did you ever date anyone?”

“No.”

Ethan’s answer came without a moment’s hesitation.

“Not even once? I bet there were plenty of girls chasing after you.”

“No.”

Cecilia tilted her head slightly. 

“Why not?”

Scratching his flushed neck, Ethan replied, 

“I just wasn’t interested. Besides, it was against the school rules.”

“Against the rules…”

Cecilia repeated his words with a chuckle. She found his unexpected reason endearing. Taking a sip of wine, she asked, 

“Are you still not interested?”

“No.”

Ethan looked directly into Cecilia’s eyes as he answered, 

“Now, I’m very interested. Extremely so.”

A faint smile lingered on Cecilia’s lips as she teased,

“Why? Because it’s not against the rules anymore?”

Ethan’s lips curved upward slightly. Setting his empty glass on the table, he said, 

“I fell in love.”

“…”

“At first sight.”

Though he didn’t explicitly name her, Cecilia knew those words were meant for her. Their gazes tangled in the air—one wavering, the other steady. The cool night air grew subtly warmer.

Summer. Night. Wine.

It was a combination that made people feel languid. Sitting so close that their knees occasionally brushed, Ethan Hoffman—the man who had broken through her defenses with just a few letters—was right there. As Cecilia’s gaze swept over him, his Adam’s apple bobbed visibly.

Looking back, Ethan had a way of provoking Cecilia’s impulses. Inviting him to the estate, allowing him to join her for an evening walk, sharing drinks—each had been a spur-of-the-moment decision.

So, would it really matter if she added one more impulse to the list?

Cecilia’s lips moved slowly. 

“Ethan.”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

Ethan’s eyes widened gradually. His entire body visibly tensed, as if he might burst from the pressure. The response that usually came in an instant was delayed this time.

“No.”

His voice, thick with emotion, sounded almost hoarse. Cecilia’s gaze lingered on his full lips. Ethan’s jaw tightened.

“Are you interested?”

Cecilia slowly reached out her hand. The moment her cold and slender fingers touched Ethan’s cheek, he trembled slightly and closed his eyes. His smooth and firm skin was burning hot, as if it could scorch her. A sigh-like breath escaped through his lips.

His long, thick eyelashes gradually lifted, and his eyes, reminiscent of the sun, reflected Cecilia. It was an intense gaze, as though it could devour and melt her in an instant.

“Yes. Very much.”