‘This really isn’t right…’

Jay felt as though she might choke with nerves as she cast a timid glance around the table. Seated closely around the round table were people she would never normally be allowed near.

The Marquess of Peyton; Young Lord Heidel Peyton; Young Lord Jade Derayen. Even the Marchioness of Peyton had appeared from somewhere.

“Do we truly have to eat together like this?”

If Jay could have escaped, she would have bolted without hesitation. But Ariadne’s expression was far from normal.

As her mistress must have had a lot to say to her family after such a long time apart, Jay decided not to spoil the moment.

So she remained seated, quietly and obediently, doing her best to disappear into the chair.

“…Um… may I sit somewhere else, miss…?”

“Mm? Do you want to? I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

As a maid, she had never even dreamed of sitting among such illustrious nobility and sharing a meal.

Jay rose after receiving her mistress’s permission.

“Why don’t you stay and eat with us, Jay? If it’s not too uncomfortable. I have some things I’d like to ask you as well.”

It was the Marchioness of Peyton who stopped her.

Although she bore a resemblance to Ariadne, she carried herself with far more confidence and certainty.

She always wore a gentle smile, giving her the air of a warm, gracious matriarch. In truth, however, she was the strictest and most demanding person in the entire Peyton household.

In some ways, the servants feared her more than the Marquis.

When someone like that told you to sit down, you simply could not refuse.

‘I’m uncomfortable’ rose to her throat, but she forced the words down and sat back down with her spine rigidly straight.

“It’s an honor, my lady. Please feel free to ask anything.”

“Good. Thank you.”

Jay sat stiffly, forcing down tears and begging the heavens that she wouldn’t actually choke on her food.

And as she was quietly fighting for her life—

“How did you all end up here?”

Ariadne finally spoke, addressing the family members gathered around the table, all wearing heavy expressions.

There was no reason for them to be here.

None at all.

And the one who answered—carefully, the way Jay herself would—was Jade.

“We’re here to prepare for Heidel’s wedding. We came to have the servants’ uniforms fitted.”

“All of you? You came all the way out here for that? The head maid or the butler could have handled choosing the uniforms.”

Jade laughed awkwardly, but Ariadne tilted her head, finding this strange.

The Peytons usually managed almost everything without leaving the estate.

The Marquis was busy with state affairs, while the Marchioness disliked being the center of attention when she went out.

Even Ariadne’s wedding had been planned entirely at the manor.

“That’s why this is our last wedding. We… wanted to pay a little more attention this time,”
the Marchioness said softly.

Heidel sent a silent look of agreement, seated beside her.

The Peyton family had not held a wedding celebration since his. Her two older brothers had both had quiet weddings, one in a small ceremony and the other unofficially.

But was that really reason enough for all of them to come out here?

Even her father, who was always buried in government affairs?

Ariadne frowned, still unable to make sense of it.

“I was the one who asked. Sylvia’s been so busy lately that she struggles to handle even the smallest preparations. I asked Mother for help, and since Father happened to be on leave today, we came together.”

“Father… took leave?”

Ariadne’s eyes widened.

It was shocking enough that Heidel, the most independent of the siblings, had asked their parents for help. But finding out that her father had taken time off work was even more surprising.

The Marquis of Peyton was always impossibly busy. He left the office on time, but he almost never took his holiday days. On the rare occasions when he did, he spent them quietly alone with Mother. And yet… was he using his time off for this?

The more she listened, the stranger everything felt.

Then, just as she began to furrow her brows—

“…I thought it would be easier to see you if I came with Jade.”

Her father, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke in a heavy voice.

“Honey.”

The Marchioness murmured in a worried tone, trying to stop him. Her cautious manner made Ariadne tilt her head slightly.

The Marquis squeezed his wife’s hand gently and continued, slowly.

“Heidel told me. That Jade had run into you a while ago.”

If Jade had met her once by chance, perhaps it could happen again. So—awkward as it was—they created a reason to come.

“If this made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry. I just… wanted to see you, even from a distance.”

When Ariadne heard her father explain the real reason they had come, she felt her chest tighten.

He was not the kind of man to show weakness in front of his children.

He was a man of unwavering responsibility and determination, someone who would smile even after the most exhausting days.

He was a father who always tried to be a steady pillar for his family. Knowing this made it all the more painful to realize that she was the reason he was like this now.

“It’s not uncomfortable at all. I’m sorry for not keeping in touch more often.”

“If you’re living well, that’s enough. You don’t need to feel so sorry. A parent’s heart worries over even the smallest things. That’s why I came.”

Because he was a father. Because he was a parent.

No matter how often a child writes, speaks or offers reassurance, a parent always wants to know more and always has more questions.

That lingering hope, that small longing — that was all.

“You shouldn’t burden yourself with needless guilt.”

And Ariadne — who understood her parents’ hearts better than anyone yet had forgotten them for far too long — felt tears instantly rise in her eyes.

There had been a time when she had desperately wanted to escape this family. Because they were brilliant and she was ordinary. Because she felt she could never bridge the gap between them. Because they were all so remarkable and she was painfully average alone.

She loved them, but hated that she had nothing to give in return. That was why Ariadne had wanted to run away.

She had believed that marriage would change her life, even if only a little. But when nothing changed, the first people she thought of were her family, despite everything.

Yet she had told Jay, who wrote weekly reports to them, to only include positive things. All because of her useless pride.

The painful, undeniable truth was that it was her family that had enabled her to endure until now.

“…I’m sorry. For not contacting you. And for… not living well.”

Maybe it had been pride.

She had wanted to tell them that she was doing fine.

That they didn’t need to worry anymore.

That she was truly all right.

She wanted to be the kind of child her parents didn’t have to worry about, like her brothers. But she had forgotten one simple truth: Whether or not she worried them, she was still their precious daughter.

Ariadne made no attempt to stop her tears.

She let them fall freely.

“I’m just… surviving one day at a time. I kept hanging on, and hanging on, and now I’ve just… given up. I don’t know what to do anymore. I didn’t have the courage to contact you, so…”

The words she cried out were pitiful. Rambling, shapeless, unorganized—just raw pieces of thought tossed out one after another.

Ariadne thought she had never held such a pathetic conversation in her entire life.

“Rene, we’re your parents. You don’t need courage to speak to us.”

Then she heard her mother’s gentle, soothing voice.

Because they were her parents. There was no need to muster bravery with them. She could reach out as casually as she would to someone sitting beside her without fear or hesitation.

The Marchioness of Peyton comforted her daughter with quiet certainty.

“But yes… I understand. Children want to look good in front of their parents. That’s instinct.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Truly. There’s nothing to apologize for. Even your brilliant brothers are the same.”

“My brothers?”

“Of course. No matter how capable they are, children are still children.”

The Marchioness answered with clarity, surprising Ariadne.

Because they were children. And because they were parents. That was why such feelings were only natural.

As she spoke, the Marchioness gently dabbed the tears from her daughter’s cheeks with a handkerchief and smiled.

“So don’t apologize. Just talk to us. Everyone here only wants to hear what you have to say.”

She didn’t want to see her succumb to guilt or force herself to find the courage she didn’t truly have.

Then she felt a warm hand settle over hers — her mother’s.

A moment later, her father’s hand joined it.

Then Heidel.

Jay gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a soft, reassuring smile.

Only then did Ariadne finally smile.

She had felt comfortable earlier, strolling through town with Jay, but not like this. That had been simple enjoyment, a light, fluttering kind of happiness.

But now—

Now she felt safe.

Safer than she had felt anywhere in a very long time.

She was safe and warm, surrounded by the only place where she had always felt protected.

Her one true sanctuary.

Ariadne placed her hand on top of theirs and smiled.

Yes.

Why would she ever need courage?

She had her family.

If she ever needed to talk, they would always be there to listen.

Realizing this truth again filled her with quiet, overwhelming gratitude, and she smiled brightly.