***

The next morning, Henrietta asked Pierre to arrange a meeting with Robert.

However, she did not receive permission to visit until after midday.

As she made her way to the main house, where the duke lived, Henrietta quietly rehearsed everything she needed to say.

She hoped that the decisions she had made during her sleepless night would not crumble once she stood before him.

Before stepping inside, she paused to look up at the towering mansion.

To see the roof’s edge, she had to crane her neck all the way back.

The structure itself reminded her of Robert.

Immense and imposing, it made him seem unapproachable.

His office was located at the end of a long hallway, right beside the sunniest window.

Pierre knocked on the door, but there was no response.

After a while, the door finally opened to reveal Robert seated at his desk.

Feeling like a knight before battle, Henrietta took a deep breath.

She slowly let it out bit by bit.

Even though he must have known she had entered, Robert kept his eyes fixed on the papers in front of him.

“I’ve brought Miss Henrietta.”

Only then did Robert lift his eyes — just his eyes — to look at her.

Still saying nothing, he left her standing in front of him as though awaiting judgement.

Once Pierre had left the room, an uncomfortable silence settled over the study.

“I asked to see you because there’s something I need to say.”

Henrietta said, breaking the silence. She didn’t want to hesitate any longer.

Finally, Robert placed his pen on the desk with a sharp clack and turned to face her fully.

“How is your condition?”

“I’ve recovered. Thank you for your concern. For… everything.”

Robert leaned slowly back into his chair, settling against the backrest in a languid motion that made Henrietta swallow dryly.

He stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he crossed his long legs and tilted his head slightly, signalling for her to speak.

“I want to leave the estate.”

His emotionless, dark brown eyes swept over her from head to toe in silence.

The silence was so heavy that Henrietta felt as though it was tightening around her throat, and she could hear her own breathing loud in her ears. She continued cautiously, praying her voice wouldn’t tremble.

“I don’t mean to leave permanently. I’ve found a house near Haytesfield Station. Until my contract ends, I’ll continue commuting to the estate for lessons. I won’t let it interfere with Master Grayson’s studies.”

For a long moment, he just stared at her. Then he let out a dry chuckle and curled his lips faintly.

“And the reason?”

“Hangderhood, where I studied, has offered me a teaching position. They agreed to adjust my schedule so that I would only work on days when Master Grayson had no classes.”

She had indeed been looking for a job, but hadn’t secured one yet.

Although Hangderhood had offered her a position, they hadn’t asked her to start right away.

It was all originally planned for next year.

However, knowing how understaffed the school always was, Henrietta was confident that they would gladly accept her help now.

“Contract period… Contract period, is it?”

He folded his arms and tapped his forearm with his index finger, clearly mulling it over.

Henrietta had no choice but to wait for his reply.

“A governess from House Schutzman going back to school… does that even make sense?”

Working at House Schutzman was the pinnacle of a governess’s career.

To the high-ranking nobles she met in the mansion, it might seem like a trivial position, but it was far from easy to obtain.

However, her ambitions no longer lay in being a governess.

She wanted to devote herself to teaching and writing for the rest of her life rather than blending into a society where she never belonged.

Above all, she wanted to escape from this grand estate, which could strangle her at any moment and from the man who felt even more suffocating than the mansion itself.

“Of course, Your Grace could recommend me to another fine household. But I want to return to the school.”

“…”

“The fastest way to travel to and from Hangderhood is by train, so I’d like to live near the station.”

At this point, Henrietta expected Robert to tell her that she could go. That would be in character for the man she knew.

No matter how passionate their nights had been, once morning came and the rhythm of life in the mansion resumed, Robert always acted as if he had never touched her.

There was no trace of the night before on his cold, impassive face.

And yet, the only reminders of what had happened between them were the emotionless gifts sent via Pierre — cold tokens that served no purpose.

That felt right to her. It should be that way.

“You said you’d already found a house…”

Only upon hearing Robert’s murmured repetition did Henrietta realise just how unbalanced this conversation had been from the start.

“And a job too…”

Instead of giving her permission to leave, Robert merely repeated her words in a low voice.

Then, suddenly, he stood up. The abrupt change in height startled Henrietta, who took a small step back instinctively.

“That’s all you have to say?”

She straightened her posture and nodded.

“You’ve already found a house and a job.”

He slowly walked towards her.

“Say it again.”

“Pardon?”

“Say it again. Your reason for leaving my house.”

Henrietta instinctively pressed her lips together. She realised that he wasn’t really asking.

“You want to move out? Live somewhere else? Commute between your place and here until the contract ends?”

“A contract? I don’t recall ever signing such a thing with you.”

Of course, Pierre had always handled her contracts and renewals over the past five years.

It would have been absurd for the Duke himself to concern himself with a governess’s employment terms.

“If you’re looking for a live-in governess, you could easily find someone else. I wouldn’t—”

“Henrietta.”

His hand, now close enough to reach her, brushed her cheek.

She was startled by the coldness of his fingertips as they slid from her cheek down the back of her neck.

His hand was large enough to break her slender neck with one movement, if he wished.

“Last night, you used being unwell as an excuse to disobey me. And now you turn up with that blank expression, saying this to me?”

His voice was calm and composed, and his expression was neat and unruffled. But there was a chilling gentleness to it that sent shivers down her spine.

“Tell me the reason.”

“I already did.”

“No, that’s not the real reason.”

“What I just told you is my real reason. I want to go to Hangderhood in Sersenpers to teach the children there. It’s a place that truly needs my help.”

“No, that’s not it.”

The hand that had grazed the back of her neck slid lower, past her spine, until it gripped her waist.

With the slightest pressure, Robert pulled her close, capturing her entire body in his grasp.

She had never been in this position before — not in broad daylight and not in his office.

Startled, she looked up at him with wide eyes.

“It’s because of Edna Maybelle Osborne. Your half-sister.”

In their empire, the Pope, who oversaw national ceremonies, wielded power equal to that of the Emperor.

Henrietta’s father, Jeremy Maybelle Osborne, was the renowned Archbishop of Constantinople, widely regarded as the greatest in Baron Cohen’s history.

Baron Cohen and Huntingford worshipped the same god.

However, some thirty years ago, a new religious movement swept through the Kingdom of Huntingford that began to threaten the existing aristocratic structure.

Consequently, the Emperor of Baron Cohen and the Pope sent Jeremy Maybelle Osborne, the most influential archbishop in history, to Huntingford to quell the change.

However, the Protestant faction had already gained unstoppable momentum.

Eventually, the Emperor of Baron Cohen also gave in to the pressure and took a second empress who was supported by the reformers.

Ultimately, Jeremy himself became the target of immense backlash from the very people he had been sent to suppress.

Then, one day, an enraged mob stormed his private residence.

While fleeing back to his homeland, he died in a carriage accident on a cliff.

The only survivors of the accident were members of House Osborne: His wife and daughter, and Henrietta, his illegitimate daughter by a maid.

The maid, Henrietta’s mother, and the coachman were never found. Not even their bodies.

In moments of despair, Henrietta would look up to the heavens and curse them, thinking irreverently that she should have died alongside her mother.

Even after the incident, the Protestant factions continued to vie for control of the two nations, but their sudden surge in influence was eventually quashed by the established powers.

During this time, public sentiment rallied around honouring Jeremy’s memory.

Thus, Jeremy Maybelle Osborne was posthumously granted the title of Testantinople, the highest honour an archbishop could receive.

He was remembered as the last martyr of the old faith and a symbol of the old church itself.

So it made perfect sense that the story of the engagement between the remarkable Duke Schützman and Jeremy’s legitimate daughter, Edna Maybelle Osborne, was circulating.

“I heard that yesterday, Janice Bryan pushed you off the boat.”

“…”

“I won’t let that woman lay a finger on you ever again.”

When the warmth that was usually present in Robert’s voice disappeared, Henrietta felt as though she was being strangled.

“Even if she’s your half-sister, that doesn’t change anything.”

‘What was he even saying?’

“Did you really think I’d allow it? That I’d let you walk out of my house?”

“I didn’t come here to ask for permission. I came to inform my employer of my future plans. As you know, the contract doesn’t specify anything about my place of residence.”

His face twisted slightly in disbelief. The easy smile had gone, as had the playful glint in his eye that had once whispered private words meant only for her.

It was then that Henrietta finally realised that the situation was far more serious than she had expected.

“Henrietta. My Rietta. You’re smart, aren’t you? You’re not so foolish as to think that some silly contract actually means anything to me.”