“Um, didn’t it hurt all this time?”

“…Pardon?”

“Your nails. They look a bit healed, but… you just left them alone, didn’t you?”

“…I disinfected them and applied ointment.”

“That’s a relief, then.”

‘She must have been on the run for a while, so where did she get the ointment? Yevgeny? If so, then these nail injuries must have happened before she arrived at this mansion. Yes, that must be it. The wounds were far too brutal to have occurred here.’

Trying to erase the unpleasant and cruel images that kept coming to mind, Fabi didn’t slow her hands. She busied herself applying ointment to the many wounds, large and small, all over Rochelle’s body. If she let her movements slow even a little, sharp fragments of thought would rise up and cloud her mind.

Once she finished wrapping Rochelle’s wounds—almost her entire body—in bandages, Fabi helped her up and handed her a white gown.

“There aren’t any new clothes here. Sir Kaiten should be waiting outside, so you should ask him for a comfortable dress to wear.”

“Thank you.”

Rochelle smiled with a very gentle expression as she slipped her arms into the gown. Her movements were so neat and composed, it was hard to believe she was an injured woman. Only then did Fabi remember that the woman in front of her was a noble lady.

“Well, come on, let’s go outside now. I need to get to bed.”

“Yes, it’s already very late. Thank you so much. Good night.”

Rochelle whispered to Fabi as she struggled to push open the tightly closed wooden door. Fabi let out a long sigh as she gazed into Rochelle’s beautiful, sky-blue eyes, filled with kindness.

‘If I hadn’t met that woman, I could have hated her so easily.’

***

The reason the entire room seemed tinged with blue wasn’t just her imagination. The ice-covered lake reflected the full moon, shining brilliantly.

Kaiten, who had been waiting for her outside with his arms crossed, immediately turned and hurried ahead as soon as he saw her come out of the bathroom.

After passing through a long corridor, he stopped in front of an unusually small room, turned the doorknob, opened the bedroom door, and then forcefully pushed Rochelle inside, who was reluctant to enter.

“Don’t make trouble, just go in and get some sleep.”

“……”

“And don’t even dream of sneaking out alone.”

Rochelle sat quietly in a chair, staring blankly at the fragments of light flowing in front of her, then lifted her head. It was a time that was a bit too dark for morning, yet too strange for night.

She slowly stood up and pressed her hand against the window glass. The cold bit into her bones. As she took a deep breath, the chill shot straight into her lungs.

She gazed blankly at the sky, on the verge of rain, and then, as her gaze drifted downward, she caught sight of a black car sliding into view.

Drawn by a strange, inexplicable pull, Rochelle frowned as she watched the silhouette of a man getting out through the back door.

“……”

Whether he had a cigarette in his mouth or not, the thick smoke made it impossible to immediately make out the man’s face, but it was easy to see that his legs, as he stepped out, were exceptionally long—far above average.

The man, dressed in a sharply tailored black suit, soon set his polished shoes on the ground. Then, his imposing upper body, clad in a thick coat, emerged smoothly. He slowly brought the hand holding the cigarette to his lips.

He inhaled deeply—so much that a dimple formed in his cheek—then exhaled, lifting his head slightly. White smoke curled around him like mist before being swept away by the wind. Even from a distance, his golden eyes, shining like the sun, seemed to flash.

Rochelle couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. The harsh wind whipped his hair in all directions. As he raised a hand to push back his unruly hair, his gaze slowly swept along the mansion’s outer wall before settling directly on Rochelle.

He whispered softly.

‘Rochelle.’

No, perhaps Yevgeny calling her name was nothing more than a desperate hope or wish. From afar, all she could see were his lips moving ever so slightly.

As Rochelle exhaled deeply, the window grew increasingly foggy. Naturally, the man’s face became obscured, leaving only his silhouette visible. In a hurry, Rochelle wiped the fogged glass with her pale fingers.

“Did you come to get me?”

As if demanding an answer, Rochelle stepped closer to the window, almost touching it with her nose. The chill from the glass made the hair on her body stand on end.

As she stared intently, Yevgeny gave her a faint smile and mouthed a few words.

‘…Of course.’

Ah… At his brief reply, a deep sigh escaped Rochelle’s lips.

What was this feeling? Joy? Relief? Misery? Anxiety? She couldn’t quite pin it down. But one thing was certain—tears began streaming down her cheeks.

Along with that, a childish desire to ask why he was so late kept welling up inside her.

“You said you’d protect me.”

‘……’

“Where have you been?”

There must have been circumstances beyond his control. Surely he regretted it, too. Even as she tried to comfort herself, tears welled up from deep inside, blurring her vision. Yevgeny’s smile faded, his expression disappearing, and eventually his entire figure became just a black blur.

She was just about to raise a trembling hand to wipe her damp face when a calm, unfamiliar woman’s voice called from behind the door.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

Then came the sound of a ring of keys clinking.

“Ah, no! Wait! Please, just a moment!”

Rochelle’s face turned pale in an instant. Clutching her head, she stumbled backwards, then hurried back to the window as reality crashed in.

“Yevgeny. When—when will I be able to leave this place?”

Taking deep breaths, Rochelle quickly asked him, her voice very small and low. But the trembling of her hand against the window only grew stronger.

Yevgeny, who had been looking up at her for a long time, finally spoke before it was too late.

‘In three days.’

Seeing his calm, gentle face, so practiced at hiding emotion, Rochelle felt her own anxiety start to settle.

She nodded. At the same time, she heard the click of the lock and the door opening behind her.

“I’ll just do a bit of cleaning.”

The servant, her face stiff, entered without even meeting Rochelle’s eyes. Rochelle swallowed hard and replied, “Yes.” Her throat and nose were so clogged from all the tears that her voice came out stuffy and thick.

Perhaps noticing something odd in her unnatural voice, the servant looked up with a puzzled expression. Rochelle, not wanting her red nose and eyes to be seen, kept her face turned toward the window and managed to ask,

“Could you not open the window? I think I caught a cold last night.”

“Yes, I’ll do that.”

The servant answered softly and quickly began tidying up the bedding and dusting away the dirt that had accumulated overnight.

Rochelle turned her gaze back outside. Yevgeny was still there, watching her. His eyes blinked slowly as he gazed at her.

Behind her, she could hear the sound of the servant wiping dust off the drawers with a half-wet rag.

After taking several deep breaths, Rochelle quickly reached for the ornate curtains and pulled them across the window.

“Is something… wrong?”

The servant’s puzzled voice came from behind. Rochelle replied in a very calm tone.

“I have a bit of a headache. I think I need to rest a little more. Would you mind leaving me alone?”

“…Shall I call a doctor, or let Sir Ivan know?”

“No, if I just rest for a day, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

The servant, looking a bit unsure, soon gathered up her cleaning supplies and turned to leave. Before leaving, she reminded Rochelle that she could fill the bathtub with hot water if needed, and to call her if she wanted.

“Thank you.” Rochelle replied briefly, though her voice held a hint of anxiety. All her thoughts were focused on Yevgeny, waiting beyond the window.

Clunk—the thick door closed, and she heard the servant lock it securely from the outside. Rochelle quickly drew the curtains open again, full of desperate hope.

But as she narrowed her eyes and gazed into the distance, a sigh soon slipped from her lips. There was no trace of the man.

“…Yevgeny.”

Even the black car he had arrived in had vanished, leaving only faint tire tracks on the ground.