Descending the marble staircase, the two passed through a thick hedge and under an arch draped in summer blooms, arriving at a secluded corner of the garden where flowers bloomed in abundance.

Unlike the open colonnade, the space was screened by trees and shrubs, lending it a sense of intimacy. At the center, blossoms glowed like clusters of moonlit beads, casting a luminous haze that made the atmosphere both enclosed and romantic.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? It’s one of the most famous spots in the palace gardens. Especially at night—it’s even better.”

“Yes. It’s truly beautiful.”

At Ian’s words, Aisha nodded with a soft exclamation. Each tiny blossom in the cluster seemed to hold the moonlight, making it impossible not to marvel.

“When we were young, we used to spend quite a lot of time alone in the garden. It’s hard to make time like that now… but I miss it.”

Ian’s hand came to rest on her shoulder. Startled by the touch against her skin, Aisha turned her head. Ian’s gaze had softened, as if he were lost in the past.

“…Back then, I knew nothing. I was simply happy.”

His words faltered, then resumed, his eyes flashing with a cold gleam for a moment. The smile on his lips was as sharp as an arrowhead, but the darkness obscured Aisha’s vision. Thinking he was just reminiscing, she relaxed.

For a while, they stood in silence, watching the luminous flowers. Yet the warmth in their expressions was starkly different.

A gentle breeze stirred between them. Ian, watching the swaying blossoms, caught sight of figures hidden in the shadows of a distant thicket and curved his lips into a shadowed smile.

“More than that—did you enjoy it?”

“…Hm?”

“The dance. I didn’t think you’d like it enough to go for four in a row.”

Aisha couldn’t find a reply. It wasn’t his faintly reproachful tone that left her at a loss. It was the sudden memory of Ian’s face as she’d danced with Prince Jared.

‘…Something’s wrong.’

A prickle of suspicion rose beneath Ian’s gentleness—no, it burst forth from where she’d been holding it down.

At the Marquis of Lloyd’s, he had been so cold. His insistence on keeping his distance had been sincere. For the past few years, he had only grown more distant toward her.

‘Come to think of it, he’s been strange since the start of the ball. Did he really invite me out here just to show me the garden?’

Yes, there had been moments when he acted kindly, but always only on the surface—every smile paired with cruel words. Never before had both his words and actions been so entirely gentle…

Her reason screamed at her that there was something behind this, warning her to be cautious.

“You should give me a chance too. In fact, I was about to come and ask you for a dance earlier, but His Highness the Second Prince beat me to it.”

But standing before Ian, who bent forward and offered his hand, Aisha’s cleverness and reason were no more than a fragile sandcastle. As always, her love for him swallowed everything whole. She stared at Ian’s outstretched hand for a moment before forcing away the near-certainty of her suspicions.

In the garden, with no music playing, they assumed the posture and began to dance. Ian led her flawlessly. Yet Aisha found something in his perfect care disquieting. The position of his hand at her waist, the strength of his hold, the way his steps guided her fluidly even without music—none of it had the slightest flaw.

And yet, for reasons she couldn’t name, dancing with Ian felt more uncomfortable than the carefree dances she’d shared with her brothers—or even her first dance with Prince Jared, a stranger until that moment.

“Ah!”

In the end, unable to focus on the dance, Aisha stepped on a small pebble and twisted her foot. Ian caught her swiftly, pulling her into his arms as he murmured,

“You all right?”

“Mhm.”

Her heart was beating faster. Was it because she’d almost fallen? Or because she was in Ian’s arms? She decided it was probably both, steadied herself, and stepped back from him. Though it had been a long time since she had confessed her feelings to Ian, it was still embarrassing to let him see her flushed face.

“Aisha. Do you… feel uncomfortable being with me?”

Even as he read her so easily, Ian feigned ignorance. There was no way Aisha Parden felt uneasy around him for a bad reason. Still, if he wanted to achieve his goal faster and more easily, he needed to knead her soft heart until it moved entirely to his will.

“Huh?”

“Like I said earlier, I was touchy about what happened at the marquis’s. But if you keep acting like you’re uncomfortable, I’ll be really hurt.”

“It’s… it’s not like that. I…”

“You smiled so easily for His Highness the Prince earlier… Do you have feelings for him, by any chance?”

As expected, just a few words were enough to make her expression crumble. Those pale blue eyes overflowed with injustice and hurt. Entirely caught in his snare, she trembled at the fear that Ian didn’t trust her heart.

‘Foolish girl.’

Ian was certain of one thing: Aisha’s feelings for him. But what if Aisha Parden disliked him? Not care for him? That was something that could never happen. Why else would he have accepted this wager so readily? Ian was not stupid enough to pay a price for uncertainty.

And yet, something was amiss. In a matter of moments, he would win several years’ worth of vineyard harvests with nothing more than words, yet his mood was still sinking. An unexpected impulse rose within him: to drag out those hiding behind the bushes right now, toss them the watch and declare the wager over.

“Ian.”

Just as he frowned at his own inexplicable irritation, Aisha, her eyes glistening, grabbed his hand.

“Y-you’re the only one I love. You know that. You’ve always known. I… I’ve loved only you, ever since then.”

Her tear-brimmed eyes and halting words only stoked his annoyance. The wager he suddenly wanted to end—realizing that Aisha herself was at the root of that feeling made him not even want to look at her. Suppressing the irritation, Ian let his voice turn blunt as he pushed her hand away with a sharp smack.

“I can’t believe you. For someone who claims that, you seemed awfully close with His Highness. And the way people were whispering… I heard it all loud and clear.”

“No! It’s not like that at all. I… Please, Ian, believe me.”

Shaking her head frantically, Aisha looked desperate. She started to reach for his hand again, only to pause—out of habit—when she caught his expression.

Ian delayed his answer deliberately, heightening her anxiety. Now that she had declared her love for him again, there was only one thing left to secure.

“All right. I’ll believe you, Aisha. Then that thing you told me before… it still holds, doesn’t it?”

A flicker of puzzlement crossed Aisha’s face. Ian found the way she strained to recall what he meant both pitiful and, in some small way, endearing. His gaze dropped to her bloodless lips as he continued.

“You once told me, when you said you loved me… that if I was happy, you were happy too. That my happiness was your happiness.”

Aisha blinked in surprise. She had said that—after dancing with him in the Parden garden. Come to think of it, it had been a night much like this one in early summer. The moon had been bright, flowers blooming all around, the leaves of the lemon tree overhead lush and full. Overcome with emotion, she brought her left hand to her chest.

“That’s right, Ian. If you’re happy, I’m happy too.”

“Really? Then you could make me happy right now.”

At her unhesitating reply, Ian’s lips curved slowly upward. Under the scattering moonlight, his smile was so beautiful that Aisha, dazed, asked the question he wanted her to.

“…What should I do?”

His red lips deepened into a darker smile. Leaning slightly forward, Ian traced her lower lip with his long fingers and gave his command in her ear.

“Kiss me, Aisha.”

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

It was an utterly abrupt request. Aisha’s lips pursed without thinking, brushing against part of his finger before she startled and parted them again. Ian, unfazed by the moisture clinging to his skin, stroked her lips once more, holding her gaze.

‘…Something’s wrong.’

A sharp sense of resistance surged within her, and she took a step back from him. Ian followed without a word. Realizing that retreat was useless, she stopped and lifted her chin.

‘This isn’t right.’

She had kissed Ian before, but it had been a long time ago. They had kissed before, but it had been a long time ago. That kiss had been more like a childish prank than a real kiss. Yet at the time, her pounding heart had told her that it was far too intimate to be dismissed so lightly.

And yet, despite it not being their first kiss, she hesitated now. The kiss she had kept as an awkward yet precious memory was nothing like this. She only knew kisses that came naturally after feelings had been exchanged and eyes had met.

“Why? Don’t you want to?”

After a moment of silence, Ian broke it. His gentle tone carried an undercurrent of pressure. With her lips sealed, Aisha silently asked him why he was doing this.

Her eyes, seeking an answer, brimmed with confusion — fear foremost among them. Seeing that she was frightened, Ian deliberately made his expression turn cold. Aisha stiffened at once, waiting for his reply and unable to hide her growing unease.

“If you don’t feel like it, I suppose there’s nothing to be done.”

Although the words sounded as if they offered a choice, they didn’t. When he sighed and made his remark, her gaze wavered. If she refused, she was certain that he would resent her. He had already become more distant in recent years, and she had no idea how she would cope if he moved further away.

“…I can do it.”

With her back to the edge of the cliff, Aisha realised that she only had one option left. Her trembling hand clutched at Ian’s sleeve. Silently, she told herself: Ian liked her, too. He must, if he was asking her to do something like this.

Hadn’t it been the same back then? On the day they kissed, his cheeks had flushed red and he had stammered with embarrassment, which was so unlike him. The affection beneath it had been so unmistakable that even at her young age, Aisha had recognised it instantly.

Of course, it went against everything her reason and experience told her. But there was nothing she could do. Although she knew it was the wrong choice, Aisha feared Ian resenting her far more.

“I can do it, Ian.”

She pressed her fingertips more firmly into his sleeve and forced a clumsy smile. But she could not keep the quiver of tears from creeping into her voice.