“Blissbury?”

Eloise widened her eyes as she wiped the remaining flour from her hands onto her apron.

Mrs. Surberton glared at her, disapproving of such behavior, deeming it fit only for maids. However, Eloise desperately ignored her mother’s gaze and looked at Mr. Surberton instead.

“Yes. While organizing the bookshelf, I realized I had taken more books from Blissbury’s study than I initially thought. If it were just one or two, I might have sent a messenger boy, but…”

Mr. Surberton trailed off.

Last summer, when the heat made the journey unbearable, he had entrusted the books to a local errand boy.

The boy had run diligently with them in hand.

The problem was that he had encountered a summer downpour—and, having never handled books before, he had no idea how much damage rain could do.

Those books were rare editions and were difficult to obtain even in the capital.

Mr. Surberton did not blame the boy. He had merely lamented the loss of such precious books due to misjudgment.

Ever since he had made it a rule to return any borrowed books personally.

But today, it seemed he intended to entrust that task to Eloise.

“I have an appointment in Camborne. It’ll take about two days. I’d prefer to return the books as soon as possible. Sergeant Thornton doesn’t seem to care much about these things, but it’s best to return them before any misunderstandings arise, don’t you think?”

Her father was right.

Although Baron Stanford had permitted to borrow books from the study, Sergeant Thornton might have thought someone was decorating their home with the estate’s belongings at their whim.

Eloise quickly removed her apron.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

Her father had dedicated years to serving Blissbury; she had no intention of letting a few books cause an unnecessary misunderstanding.

Besides, honestly, she was glad for the excuse to visit Blissbury.

“Make sure you dress properly!”

As she ascended the stairs, her mother’s voice rang behind her.

Even without her mother’s reminder, she had already planned.

Upon entering her room, Eloise carefully wiped away any traces of flour from her hands and face. Then, she selected the finest outfit she owned for outings.

She brushed her hair, neatly tying it up without a strand out of place. After donning her hat, the woman standing before the mirror was the very image of a refined lady.

‘It’s been a while since I’ve dressed up like this.’

The last time had been last autumn when her mother had practically dragged her to Camborne.

Feeling oddly self-conscious, she adjusted her appearance in the mirror several times before heading downstairs.

On the table lay the books her father had gathered, along with the apple pies she had baked earlier with Emily.

As Eloise entered the room, Mrs. Surberton gave her a once-over. Soon, a satisfied smile spread across her face. She had passed inspection.

“Good, you’ve dressed properly. And take some pies with you as well.”

“Three whole pies?”

They had baked six in total—two for their family, one for Emily, and three to be shared with others. And now, her mother told her to bring half of them to Sergeant Thornton?

“Mrs. Parker mentioned that Mr. Thornton doesn’t eat well. He’s likely exhausted from his long journey, and when that happens, it’s better to eat something sweet, at least to maintain strength. Since Emily made the apple pies, I’m sure Sergeant Thornton will be pleased.”

“I made half of them, you know.”

At that, Mrs. Surberton’s expression hardened.

“Which ones? We need to set those aside immediately.”

“Mother, my baking isn’t that disastrous.”

“But the pie you made last time was dreadful, right? Speaking of which, would you please stop doing things meant for the maids—”

“I’m leaving now!”

Sensing her mother was about to launch into a full lecture, Eloise quickly grabbed the pies and rushed outside.

Thanks to Mr. Surberton’s arrangements, a servant had already prepared her favorite curricle—a lightweight, fast-moving carriage ideal for outdoor travel.

She carefully stored the box of pies and the books her father had given her beneath the seat before climbing aboard and taking the reins.

Even without urging, the horse seemed to understand her destination and began moving forward.

“Be sure to mind your manners with Sergeant Thornton!”

Mrs. Surberton, having hurried outside too late, momentarily abandoned decorum and called out loudly to her departing daughter.

As if that were the cue, Eloise’s carriage picked up speed.

“Honestly…”

Mrs. Surberton sighed as she watched her daughter disappear into the distance.

Her only daughter. And that was precisely why she worried so much.

Twenty-six.

In this society, she hadn’t just missed the prime age for marriage—she had essentially aged out of the marriage market altogether.

Eloise herself felt no urgency, saying she was perfectly content. But for Mrs. Surberton, the matter was far from settled.

“It would have been better if she had been raised in the capital.”

Had she moved through the bustling social circles, she would have known many gentlemen and lifelong friends even as she grew older.

In this rural town, an unmarried woman had no choice but to live even more quietly as she aged.

Even now, Eloise felt stifled if she spent a single day indoors. Could she genuinely endure such a life? And more than anything…

Mrs. Surberton turned her head. She saw her husband stepping out of the house, coughing.

Though he had told Eloise he had an appointment in Camborne, she knew he would see Reverend Harrison.

‘It’s becoming difficult for him to go out.’

Over the course of this winter, her husband’s health had noticeably weakened. Perhaps that was why he had welcomed Sergeant Thornton—managing the estate might have become too burdensome.

Mrs. Surberton returned to her husband’s side and took his arm.

Feeling her light support, Mr. Surberton recognized her concern and patted the back of her hand.

A heavy feeling settled in Mrs. Surberton’s chest. She and her husband would pass away before Eloise.

After that, who would remain by Eloise’s side?

Though there were relatives she kept in touch with and close friends in the village, none could care for her like family. That was why…

“…It would be nice if Eloise got along well with Sergeant Thornton.”

“What are you saying all of a sudden?”

Surprised by his wife’s abrupt remark, Mr. Surberton looked at her in bewilderment.

“I didn’t know you were so set on having Sergeant Thornton.”

And yet, wasn’t she the one who had spread all of his information to the village ladies?

“I only did that hoping one of the young women in our village would secure him.”

“But not as a match for Eloise?”

Mrs. Surberton shook her head at her husband’s words.

“Look at Sergeant Thornton. Tall, handsome, and even a distant relative of Baron Stanford—he has a solid backing… Honestly, with such qualifications, there’s no reason for him to…”

She trailed off, unable to say outright that he was too good a match for her daughter.

“So, I’m considering aiming for his acquaintances instead. He seems to be well-regarded in the military… If so, wouldn’t his close friends visit Blissbury in the summer?”

“Oh?”

Only then did Mr. Surberton grasp his wife’s ambition.

Indeed, Sergeant Thornton was an outstanding man. Even without marrying their daughter, he would be highly sought after in the capital’s marriage market.

So rather than pursue the unlikely match with Thornton, his wife had decided to find a suitable gentleman among his acquaintances for Eloise.

“You’ve been making grand plans.”

“Of course. Did you think I had completely given up on Eloise’s marriage?”

Mrs. Surberton smiled and murmured casually as if passing the thought along.

“Well, it would still be best if she ended up with Sergeant Thornton.”

***

“Haah!”

Ryan jolted awake, his breath ragged. He blinked several times before letting out a deep sigh as he stared at the now-familiar ceiling.

“Haa… Again…”

In his dream, he was standing in the middle of the Battle of Ingon, witnessing the foolish orders from the command, the despairing faces of his comrades as they looked at him, the bombardment that followed, the blood and flesh scattering in all directions, and the agonized cries.

Then, at some point, everything fell silent. When he raised his head and looked around, he saw the disciplinary committee members glaring at him with piercing eyes from the darkness.

Among them, one pair of eyes shone with an especially sharp glint.

Ryan knew exactly whose eyes those were.

The one person who had wanted him dead more than anyone else in that battle…

“…Damn it.”

Before his mood could sink further, he roughly threw off the blanket and got up.

Sweat, brought on by nightmares, clung stickily to his entire body.

He walked over to the window and pulled back the thick curtains. A wave of violent sunlight washed over him.

Closing his eyes briefly before reopening them, he gazed out the window.

The dull, monotonous countryside stretched before him, unchanged from the day before.

After staring outside for a brief moment, he turned away.

Stepping out into the hallway, he saw a food cart placed near his door. It was a meal left for him by Mrs. Parker, who worried about his reluctance to eat.

Suppressing the guilt within him, Ryan stepped further into the corridor.

As always, on days when he had nightmares, he couldn’t bring himself to eat anything.