“No, that’s not what I meant…”

“Sigh… Just give it here.”

Ian snatched the handkerchief from Aisha’s hand and bent down, taking hold of her face. As her cheek was pressed and held in place, Aisha let out a small whimper.

He must have heard it at such close range, but Ian pretended not to notice. He pressed the wrinkled handkerchief gently around her eyes, dabbing away the tears.

Despite the strength in his grip, the way his fingers touched her eyes was meticulous and gentle. Thanks to him, aside from a bit of redness, Aisha’s eyes soon looked normal again.

‘…Ian is a kind person.’

Aisha whispered to herself inside. He was cold, but in moments like this, he could be unexpectedly warm.

“Aisha, don’t cry. If our little lady starts crying, how am I supposed to be a gentleman?”

Aisha firmly believed that Ian’s warmth was genuine. Even during the hardest times, such as when he lost his parents, he always managed to smile for her. He patted her on the back and told her not to cry. His soft voice tried to hide its own tears. Fifteen years ago, Ian was someone who shone brighter than anyone — beautiful and warm, like the sun itself, and he was forever etched in her memory.

“I… I’ll love Ian forever. Really, I mean it. So don’t be sad. Don’t cry, Ian.”

It was only natural, then, that she had fallen in love with him so young. Aisha followed Ian blindly, and that feeling, over time, had grown into something deeper.

For more than ten years, Ian had always been warm to her in return. There were even brief moments when he had seemed to feel the same way. But about three years ago, something changed between them… From a certain day onward, Ian began to cool, until eventually he’d become a man as cold as ice.

‘…It was probably right after the engagement was brought up.’

Aisha could still recall, however vaguely, the moment Ian’s attitude toward her began to shift. It was when her father, Count Parden, formally invited the Ian siblings for a splendid lunch in the garden and raised the subject of an engagement. She remembered the way Ian’s expression changed as he sat across from her, smiling one moment, then suddenly—

Just for an instant, Ian’s face looked as if he could freeze every blossom in the garden with a glance. Aisha, seeing that, found herself unable to breathe. It felt as though her heart had dropped beneath her chair.

“Let’s… talk about this later, Uncle.”

His smile had been just as forced as his voice was awkward. Watching Ian avoid her gaze, Aisha knew immediately—something was about to change between them.

“We’re seeing each other too often lately. Work’s been busy, so I probably won’t be able to visit for a while.”

Her fears proved right. After that day, Ian began to change—slowly, but unmistakably. Aisha sensed it first, but it was her family who voiced it aloud.

“That bastard Ian stabbed Father in the back. No, he didn’t even bother to hide it—he outright betrayed us! To think he’d side with the Duke!’

“Daniel. Father’s decided to let it go. Don’t bring it up in front of Aisha.”

“Hyung! Do you really think keeping quiet will solve anything? And do you think I’d say this in front of her over just that? Aisha, be honest with me. That bastard Ian’s been cold to you lately, hasn’t he? It’s not just my imagination, right? Just yesterday, even though you were his partner, he danced twice with that girl from the Ruber family. Did he have any excuse for it?”

Her family was disappointed—then ultimately furious—at the way Ian treated Aisha. Every time, Aisha tried desperately to mediate between them, but aside from her father, Count Parden, their patience had long since worn thin. Before she knew it, everyone in the Parden household hated even hearing Ian’s name.

“Ian! You’re leaving the capital for six months… is it true? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Was there any reason I was obligated to?”

“What?”

“That’s enough. I’m busy preparing for the trip, so I’ll be going. And since this is just a vacation, I’d prefer you didn’t write to me every other day. I’m not interested in reading your trivial chatter all the way out there.”

The distance in his words grew sharper, almost cruel—his remarks now venomous. Yet Aisha pressed down her hurt and smiled anyway. She clung to those rare, uncertain moments of warmth he sometimes showed her, always recalling the boy who’d turned her tears into a smile fifteen years ago.

‘I promised I’d love you. Even if you say things like that now, you always hold me later. Ian is a kind person. I know he is.’

The years had turned her faith in him into something unshakeable, her affection impossibly deep—almost a kind of devotion. Just as a priest worships a goddess, Aisha looked up to Ian.

“Ah…”

As if mocking that faith, Ian continued pressing the handkerchief to her eyes. When the gentle skin around her eyes started to sting from the repeated dabbing, Aisha placed both hands over Ian’s and mumbled,

“I-Ian. I think that’s enough.”

“Yeah, right.”

Ian shook off her hands, hard. Not only did her hands fall away, but the handkerchief slipped from his grasp and dropped to the floor. Aisha quickly stooped to pick it up, clutching it with both hands—her gesture full of longing.

She couldn’t help it; the handkerchief embroidered with blue sage held special meaning for her. She had stayed up several nights sewing it, praying for Ian’s health.

‘It’s been over seven years…’

Though it had been made so long ago, the handkerchief was still pristine. The edges were just a little worn, but it was clear how well it had been cared for. He’d cherished it all this time. She hadn’t seen it for ages and wondered if he was still using it. Her heart filled with warmth, washing away the urge to cry.

“Th-thank you. I’ll wash it and return it to you.”

Forgetting that she’d been crying just moments ago, Aisha thanked Ian. Though he had grown so cold to her, sometimes he could still move her heart.

“No need.”

But before she could even finish speaking, his cold voice cut through the air. Slowly, Aisha looked up—only to see him gazing at her, his expression blank and unreadable. When their eyes met, Ian glanced down at the handkerchief clutched in her hands, as if it were something trivial and worthless.

“I have more handkerchiefs like that than I know what to do with. And now that I see it up close, it’s completely worn out. I don’t keep tattered things around. So since you’re the last one who used it, just throw it away.”

The flatness in his voice was frightening. Aisha almost asked if he remembered what that handkerchief meant, but she pressed her lips together. No matter how he answered, it would only hurt.

When she remained silent, Ian’s lips twisted faintly. He reached out and began toying with her earlobe again—not as roughly as before, but still casually, as if handling something insignificant. He flicked and rolled it between his fingers, treating it as carelessly as the handkerchief.

“While you’re at it, you might as well get rid of those tacky pearl earrings, too. They’re about as valuable as the rocks you find on the side of the road. Wearing them just makes the Parden family’s taste look questionable.”

The pearl earrings had been a gift from Ian—a reply to the handkerchief she’d made for him. He’d picked them out himself; with his sharp memory, there was no way he didn’t remember. For the first time, Aisha looked at him with something like resentment.

‘Why does he keep getting worse? Why…?’

Aisha had thought she was used to Ian’s coldness over the past three years. But now, after six months apart, he seemed even colder—no, something about him felt warped. He’d always been harsh, but before, it was more like keeping his distance. Now, it felt as if he was trying to hurt her on purpose.

“Ian. Why… Why are you doing this? Why do you want me to throw everything away?”

Her voice, tight with emotion, wavered. Ian let out a short laugh. He took his hand from her ear and smiled, bright and serene.

“Just because.”

“…”

“I’m just sick of all this pathetic, clingy stuff.”

“…”

“Honestly, just looking at it puts me in a bad mood.”

Ian’s smiling face was as beautiful as an angel’s, but every word stabbed at Aisha without mercy. She clasped her hands tightly against her chest, as if to hold herself together. When he saw tears welling in her eyes, Ian turned away. He walked toward the exit, and Aisha, unable to help herself, jumped to her feet.

“Don’t follow me. Meeting you here was never part of my plan.”

She froze in place as he strode off, never once looking back. Ian reached the curtain at the exit and swept it aside.

But he couldn’t leave right away. Someone stood blocking his path, and Ian’s brows drew together in a frown.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

“…Sophia.”

“Ian. What are you doing here?”

The striking golden hair, so similar to Ian’s, and their vaguely alike features made it clear they were siblings. Sophia glanced briefly past her brother, eyeing Aisha where she stood in the lounge, then continued.

“Loretta’s looking for you. You left your partner all alone… This is an important event, you know. It’s not exactly proper.”

At the mention of his partner’s name, the crease between Ian’s brows deepened. Still, he only gestured silently at his sister. Sophia stepped aside, making way as Ian signaled to her.

“I’ll have a word with Aisha before I go.”

“Don’t say anything unnecessary.”

Ian paused for a moment at Sophia’s words, muttering under his breath so only she could hear as he walked past. Sophia’s face twisted in annoyance for a second, but she quickly schooled her features, remembering that Aisha was watching.

Ian soon disappeared down the corridor. Once her brother was well out of sight, Sophia drew the curtain to block the lounge entrance and strode toward Aisha, her steps tense and impatient.