“Ryan Thornton… Ah, here you are.”

The staff member briefly scanned the identification Ryan presented, then waved him through.

After Ryan passed, Philip followed with an expression like he was on the verge of death.

Shortly afterward, the two men left the dock and entered a shop inside the harbor area. Like most establishments in such places, it was honestly somewhere one shouldn’t expect hygiene or cleanliness.

The moment they entered, Philip was hit by the stale smell of alcohol and food. He covered his mouth and immediately ran back to the dock to empty the contents of his stomach.

“My, my, how weak he is.”

The owner who came to take their order clicked his tongue while wiping his hands on a dirty apron.

“So, what will you have? There’s only one breakfast menu anyway.”

“Two breakfast meals and two glasses of whiskey—cheap and strong.”

At Ryan’s order, the owner nodded and went inside.

Meanwhile, Philip returned with unsteady steps after emptying his stomach completely.

“I feel like I’m dying…”

“You’re exaggerating.”

At Ryan’s indifferent response, Philip’s eyes narrowed. Just as he was about to throw a sharp retort at Ryan, sailors from another ship poured into the shop.

They immediately made the place noisy, calling for alcohol. The shop owner, apparently familiar with them, brought two bottles of cheap liquor and glasses to their table without even asking.

The voices of the sailors, who were downing strong alcohol like water since dawn, soon grew louder.

“Good riddance! Everyone in the world knows that man was a coward!”

One sailor slammed his glass down on the table with a bang as he spat out vulgar words.

“Exactly. He survived at the expense of other units. The fortune teller who lives in our alley said that a few days ago, a star fell from the sky over Gilia. That was Colonel Wilgrave’s death, they say.”

Another sailor across from him snorted and poured more liquor into his mouth.

“Would such a big star fall for a coward like him? Those fortune tellers are all frauds.”

“What are you saying! That woman is a fortune teller even nobles visit! You shouldn’t speak so carelessly about someone who lives by reading the stars! Even ill-fated stars are still stars!”

As the conversation continued, the sailors’ talk increasingly drifted toward astrology. Ryan listened to their conversation absently while taking another sip of his drink.

‘The rumors have spread well.’

When he had nearly died in the trench, Ryan became certain that his information was leaking from Albion.

At first, he couldn’t believe it.

Even for Earl Wallace, it wouldn’t have been easy to obtain his information.

That meant information was leaking from even higher up.

“What happened here?”

When Philip returned from sending a telegram to Albion, Ryan said to him:

“Sorry, but help me up. And send another telegram to Albion as quickly as possible.”

“D*mn, what’s with this corpse? Anyway, be careful getting up. Are you hurt anywhere?”

After looking into the trench and seeing the terrible corpse that seemed torn to pieces, Philip frowned and quickly helped Ryan up.

Fortunately, although his body ached all over, nothing felt broken.

With Philip’s support, Ryan headed to a nearby village. There, he sent a telegram directly to Albion.

That Ryan Wilgrave had died during a mission.

And now, Ryan couldn’t help but laugh.

The telegram he had sent through a secure line had spread so widely that even people at the docks were openly discussing it.

‘Just how corrupt are those at the top!’

At this point, it was nearly miraculous that they had managed to stop Gilia’s surprise attack.

Clearly, those who leaked information had kept quiet about this operation because the surprise attack would have harmed their interests.

Meanwhile, their breakfast order arrived. Despite the poor quality, Ryan ate the tough bacon and undercooked bread without so much as a frown.

‘There’s much to do from now on.’

There were people who would be happy about his supposed death. People who violated military law and leaked information.

‘Not just Earl Wallace, but everyone connected to him.’

Ryan gritted his teeth. Perhaps his final task in the military would not be stopping Gilia’s surprise attack, but cutting out those rotten individuals.

After finishing his meal, Ryan set out again with Philip. The wind that brushed his cheeks was colder than when they had left.

“What do we do now?”

Philip asked, following behind him. In Albion, Ryan had told Philip, “I can’t trust even you right now.”

Instead of getting angry about Ryan’s lack of trust, Philip had simply nodded in understanding.

The moment he saw the corpse in the trench, Philip also realized the seriousness of the problem.

Personal feelings had to be set aside. Since Gilia’s attack had been thwarted, their biggest remaining task was to catch those who had communicated with the enemy and tried to kill their own countrymen.

For that reason, Ryan had not told Philip anything about what he planned to do upon returning to Albion, how he would do it, or where he would stay.

“First… I should meet either Baron Stanford or Richard…”

As he muttered this, Ryan stopped walking.

In a general store window, they were selling stationery with beautiful snowflake prints. Ryan recalled the letters he had sent.

‘I wonder if she’s been receiving them well?’

He remembered the playful notes he had written at the end of each letter.

Just imagining her being sad while reading his letters made his heart heavy, so he had deliberately added mischievous comments.

Those words were different each time.

He would write something like, “Ryan, who feels somehow good thinking about you missing him today,” or “Ryan, who hopes to become a colonel soon,” or other such silly jokes to end his letters.

In truth, there were words he wanted to write instead of those closing remarks.

Words he had written plainly several times but then covered the paper out of embarrassment.

Your Ryan.

His gaze traced over the clean stationery.

‘This really is the last time.’

So in the next letter, he would surely be able to write those words.

As he turned to continue walking, he wondered what Eloise might be doing now.

‘Is she still waiting for me in Feltham?’

With the weather being so cold, perhaps the first snow had already fallen there.

‘She must have heard about Colonel Wilgrave’s death too!’

As that thought occurred to him, a groan escaped his lips.

Eloise was still a fervent admirer of Colonel Wilgrave. Even when they had begun their affair, whenever military topics came up, hadn’t she glared at him as if to say, “Is this the time to be holding my hand? Hurry up and finish that story”?

Because of this, Ryan keenly felt that his greatest enemy was himself.

‘She must be sad.’

No, perhaps she hadn’t heard yet.

Ryan hoped the news would reach Feltham very late. He wished that Eloise would have to suffer heartache for just a day less, or even just a few hours less.

* * *

At the same time.

“Eloise…?”

Sinclair looked surprised to see her dressed more elegantly than usual.

Until now, Eloise had consistently refused Sinclair’s repeated offers to buy her new clothes.

But not anymore.

After news of Ryan Wilgrave’s death spread, opinions varied, but many people deliberately began wearing black clothes.

Yet amid that solemnity, only Eloise behaved differently.

She had become more flamboyant and lively. While this might not have been an issue for others, it was for Sinclair.

“Maria, what kind of gentlemen are coming to tonight’s gathering? Could you introduce me to them if it’s alright? Oh, and you mentioned last time that you could help with renovating the house I inherited? If possible, I’d like to be introduced to those people as soon as possible too.”

Sinclair couldn’t say anything to Eloise, who was smiling as she spoke.

Today, Eloise was enthusiastically wearing not only fancy clothes but also accessories. Moreover, Sinclair heard that since morning, she had been pushing her maids to help with her appearance.

‘When I told her to do this before, she refused!’

Was she now suddenly agreeing to all the proposals she had previously rejected, just when Sinclair was thinking of gradually getting rid of her because she was no longer useful?

Like someone determined to spend all of her fortune at any cost.