“So suddenly?”

Rochelle looked at Yevgeny in disbelief.

“You didn’t even discuss it with me?”

“I’m sorry about that too, Rochelle. But a quick decision was necessary.”

His face, as he spoke of such a major event in life, was calmer than anyone’s. Even though the engagement date had been set, his indifferent tone—as if he were simply choosing a dinner menu—hurt Rochelle, but she could understand it to some extent. He hadn’t even had time for a meal yet, and he’d been busy all day, with no energy left for the details.

As she closed her mouth and quietly chose her next words, Yevgeny stood up.

He slowly approached, brushed Rochelle’s long hair behind her shoulder, and gently bit her neck, one hand affectionately caressing her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, but please wait a little longer, Rochelle. During those six nights on the ship with you, I missed so much. Now, trying to set things right, there’s a lot on my mind.”

“Is it because of those stacks of documents I threw into the sewer?”

Rochelle ran her hand over his chest as she asked. She could feel his heartbeat at her fingertips. Was this trembling hers, or his? The question she couldn’t bring herself to say out loud was swallowed deep into her heart. Yevgeny pulled her tightly into his arms.

“I won’t say it isn’t.”

“…”

“But I gained something far more precious, so I’m satisfied.”

As he spoke, his broad body pressed Rochelle down hard. Knocked over the table, Rochelle’s hips lifted slightly. The man pushed his body between her legs.

Yevgeny’s eyes, visible through the movement, were like calm, deep waves. So deep.

Gazing at those shining gems, Rochelle buried her face in his chest and lowered her eyes. In the corner of her vision, she caught sight of the documents on the table. Absentmindedly, she glanced at the bottom, at the signature line, and let out a faint sigh.

Ah, the seal on the letter she’d glimpsed from Ivan in the past was undoubtedly Yevgeny’s. She’d hoped it wasn’t true, but now it was a fact she could no longer deny.

***

“Don’t try to get close too quickly just because you want to, miss. You have to approach at each one’s own pace.”

She’d managed to lead the horse out of the stable with the reins held short, but what came after was the problem. Rochelle had to make the animal match her steps, just like taking a big puppy for a walk.

“Be good, okay? Now, come along, no, a little slower… Please!”

She pleaded desperately with the animal, who couldn’t understand her words.

“Just up to there, okay? Just to the cottage.”

She didn’t even hope to ride it—she only wanted to walk alongside it at a gentle pace.

“It’s not as easy as you thought, is it?”

Fabi laughed cheerfully beside Rochelle, who was splashing cold water on her face at the sink.

“Animals are just like people, miss. It takes a lot of effort to become friends.”

“Do even the really old ladies in Castiya learn horseback riding as a hobby, not just as a means of transport?”

“Of course! It’s one of the few moments when humans and animals can truly connect.”

Connection or not, Rochelle felt like she was suffocating from the awful smell clinging to her body. She frowned as she wiped her hands with a handkerchief, and Fabi looked at her in confusion.

“I heard that among the upper class, horseback riding is a core subject. In Brittany…”

“That’s right, but only for men.”

As she finished speaking, Rochelle shook out her damp bangs and turned away. The cold wind made her hair freeze and turn stiff and brittle. It bothered her so much she kept smoothing it down with her hands, and in the distance, she spotted a familiar man.

Yevgeny, his hair slicked back with pomade, wore a sharply creased military uniform. He slowly passed through the main gate and approached the revolutionaries lined up in formation. He then raised his gloved hand and pointed off into the distance.

“That’s Sir Yevgeny, miss!”

“…So it is.”

What were they discussing? Rochelle stood there, staring blankly at the imposing man. Compared to others, Yevgeny was a head taller, and now he was striding out in front.

Thud, thud. The sound of military boots striking the tiles echoed through the mansion, then gradually faded.

At the same time, the locks on the stables were released. A group of horses, under the stable keeper’s control, galloped out in perfect order, each finding its master.

Yevgeny’s horse, a golden-maned stallion much like himself, looked fierce, tossing its head from side to side. Yevgeny gently stroked its mane several times to calm it, then placed his foot in the stirrup and mounted with a powerful motion.

Bang!

The first gunshot signaling the start rang out.

“Hyah!”

Yevgeny spurred his horse forward at speed. His golden hair fluttered in the biting wind.

Soon, a group followed behind him. Rochelle could only stand there, watching the unfamiliar scene unfold. The mansion, noisy for a moment, soon fell quiet again.

***

Yevgeny, once gone, did not return for a long time. Rochelle tried not to think about him, but after a day, then two, she found herself endlessly gazing out the window, checking the faces of those coming and going from the mansion.

“Miss.”

At the sound of someone calling her, Rochelle turned her head slightly. Fabi, looking worried, draped a shawl over her shoulders.

“It’s time for bed now.”

“…Go ahead and rest first, Fabi.”

“…”

“I want to stay up a little later. It’s just one of those nights.”

Rochelle smiled gently as she sent her out. When the heart aches and the mind is tangled, sometimes you need time alone.

That was exactly how Rochelle felt now. At night, untraceable thoughts would flood her mind, bringing a faint headache.

A long time passed. As fatigue gradually crept in, the bell from the distant cathedral rang out midnight. Amid that low tone, the sound of hooves mixed in.

At the welcome sound, Rochelle grabbed the lamp from her bedside and moved to the window. Before long, men in military uniforms naturally passed through the mansion’s main gate.

At the front, of course, was Yevgeny. He jumped lightly from his horse, and, apparently pleased about something, slowly ran his fingers through his hair, stretching his red lips into a wide smile. The cheerful smile contrasted sharply with his sharp, cold eyes, making Rochelle frown. It was like seeing two mismatched works of art side by side.

He then slowly pulled a cigarette from his pocket with his gloved hand. Taking a deep drag, his prominent Adam’s apple rose and fell.

Exhaling smoke as he turned away, Yevgeny’s surroundings came into Rochelle’s view. Her calm gaze shifted to a middle-aged man, bound hand and foot by the revolutionaries.

“…Who is that?”

Through the dark brown hair blowing in the night wind, a chilling scar caught her eye. The wound started at the man’s left eye, crossed his blunt nose, and slid down to the sunken flesh beneath his opposite cheekbone. Rochelle frowned and leaned closer to the window to get a better look.

A prisoner?

He seemed strangely familiar. The middle-aged man’s face was somehow recognizable.

“I definitely know him.”

While Rochelle pondered, the revolutionaries moved swiftly. Some led the now-calm horses to the stables, while Yevgeny and the rest dragged the man with the familiar yet unfamiliar face deeper into the darkness.

It was a bit impulsive. Resolute, Rochelle glanced down to check her clothing. Over a white lace slip, she threw on a thick, natural rabbit-fur shawl. Then she covered her scalp and ears with a narrow-brimmed black hat.

Now, she just needed to cover her legs. Stamping her feet and looking around, Rochelle pulled on knee-high leather boots. It was a ridiculous fashion sense, but better than being exposed to the cold.

She stepped carefully. Opening the small side door by the main gate, she slipped outside without causing a stir. The biting chill crept up her back.

The revolutionaries’ shadows lit her path like a lighthouse. Hunching her shoulders, Rochelle followed the men stealthily and quickly. Soon, the noisy group stopped in front of the cottage.