Ryan shielded his eyes from the glaring sunlight as he exited the mansion. The sun had already passed its zenith—it must have been around one afternoon.

‘That explains why no one else was around.’

Not Mr. Palmer, the butler, Mrs. Parker, the Warren father and son, or any other temporary workers.

Everyone working in Blissbury was diligent and hardworking.

They began their day early and rarely stayed in one place until dinner, moving about constantly to complete their tasks.

Perhaps because of that, the mansion remained impeccably clean despite its owner’s absence, and a pleasant scent of dried herbs always lingered in the air.

From this alone, it was clear how meticulous Mr. Surberton had been in selecting the people who worked in his household.

Knowing that everyone else had diligently carried out their duties since morning while he had been trapped in a nightmare until this late hour made Ryan feel even more pathetic.

He headed straight for the river beside the mansion and dove right in without removing his clothes.

Splash!

The cold water wrapped around him, instantly clearing his dazed mind.

He submerged himself repeatedly before climbing back onto the riverbank, collapsing into the shade.

Wiping the water from his face, he recalled the final moments of his dream.

The man who had been his harshest critic at the disciplinary hearing was the Earl of Wallace.

His condemnation had been so relentless that even the noblemen and officials beside him had tried to intervene, saying he had gone too far.

Ryan had stared at him, unable even to force a bitter smile.

Others might have dismissed the earl as just another aristocrat jealous of a country bumpkin who had lucked into military achievements.

But the Earl of Wallace…

“…That kind of man is my father.”

The wind carried away his hollow voice.

***

Ryan first saw the Earl of Wallace when he was ten years old.

After finishing his shift hauling coal at the train station with his friends from the neighborhood, he returned home to find a stranger standing inside.

At a glance, his attire was no different from any gentleman on the streets. But upon closer inspection, subtle differences emerged.

Smooth fabric without a single wrinkle, sleeves, and elbows free of any signs of wear, and garments unmistakably crafted by an artisan rather than hastily sewn by a street tailor.

Yet, more than his clothing, how he looked at Ryan revealed that he was no ordinary man.

The way his eyes regarded Ryan—as if he were gazing at the filthiest insect in the world.

That arrogant stare told Ryan everything he needed to know. This man was a noble.

“Is this it?”

He gestured at Ryan with his chin and called him “it.”

“Yes, that’s right. Now, Ryan, you must introduce yourself properly. This is the Earl of Wallace—”

Smack!

Before his mother could finish speaking, the earl’s hand struck her across the face.

Ryan barely managed to catch her as she staggered from the force of the blow. Meanwhile, the man who had struck her nonchalantly pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his hand as if he had touched something dirty.

“Who gave you permission to speak my name?”

“I-I’m sorry.”

Though she had been the one struck, his mother apologized.

Ryan held onto her, glaring at the man as if he wanted to kill him.

Even as a young boy, Ryan was known in the alleyways for his fierce temper. His sharp gaze made the earl flinch and take a step back.

But perhaps embarrassed by his moment of weakness before a mere child, he quickly raised his cane and brought it down on Ryan’s shoulder.

Ryan, however, did not stand idly by.

He had fought not only with boys his age but also with older, taller kids from the neighboring alley—and he usually won.

No matter how noble his opponent was, Ryan was not the type to endure unprovoked violence without retaliation.

He grabbed the end of the cane that was about to strike him.

“You filthy brat!”

The startled Earl of Wallace tried to wrench it away, but Ryan refused to let go, his glare unwavering.

“Who the hell are you?”

“How dare you! You insolent little—what kind of wretched upbringing have you had to behave so disgracefully—”

“Please, forgive him! I-I will discipline him properly! Ryan, stop this at once! This man is…”

Ryan’s mother stepped between them but hesitated before finishing her sentence. She glanced at the earl anxiously.

That was all Ryan needed to understand.

The father he had been told was dead—was standing right in front of him.

Seeing it with that awareness, he noticed annoyingly similar features.

Dark black hair and blue eyes. A stubborn mouth. And even that gaze, which often seemed unpleasantly arrogant among friends.

The Earl also looked at Ryan. Unlike the surprised Ryan, the Earl’s expression was much calmer.

“As reported. We do look alike.”

Reported?

‘Come to think of it, the kids did mention seeing a stranger wandering around the alleys lately.’

At the time, he had brushed off their words, but hearing the Earl now, it seemed the person he had sent had been lurking around.

Ryan grew even more puzzled.

‘Why now? Why start watching me now?’

For as long as he could remember, his father had been absent.

Because a drifter had claimed to be the child’s father, his mother had been driven out of the village and forced to move to the city—where women like her were plentiful.

But life there was no better than in the countryside.

The looks of contempt remained, and with no land to cultivate, they had to work in factories, earning just enough each day to survive.

To escape that life, the only option was to marry someone with even slightly better circumstances.

His mother had married an aging gravedigger, and that is how Ryan acquired the surname Wilgrave.

The gravedigger was neither a good man nor a bad one.

He gave Ryan his surname but never sent him to school despite having the means. Still, Ryan had no complaints. Being taken in by him freed Ryan and his mother from the desperate daily struggle for food.

So now, after finally achieving a semblance of stability, why had his biological father suddenly appeared?

As Ryan pondered, the Earl of Wallace spoke.

“You have something to do in place of my son.”

His voice drew a clear line.

A line that declared Ryan was most certainly not his son.

***

“Sigh…”

Ryan took a deep breath as he recalled the unpleasant memory, gazing up at the sky.

He was lying beneath a massive tree so large that even five adults stretching their arms couldn’t encircle it.

The dense leaves overhead blocked most of the sky, casting a broad shade over him.

Since it was still spring, lying in the shade with damp clothes made him feel chilly. If that was the case, he could have shifted slightly to bask in the warm sunlight.

“…”

But instead of moving, he simply turned his head and looked at the sunlit spot.

His mind was awake, his body was fine, yet he had no motivation to do anything.

The capital’s military doctor had said his condition stemmed from psychological instability.

‘Which is why I came here to recover.’

But even after over a week of staring at this supposedly calming countryside scenery, he felt nothing.

If anything, the quiet and lack of distractions only made his thoughts wander.

And all that came to mind was war. Naturally.

Since the age of ten, when the Earl had sought him out again, was there ever room for anything else in his life besides the military?

So every memory he could recall was tied to that world.

After lying there for a long while, Ryan suddenly wondered how many meals he had skipped.

‘A day? No, two?’

Mrs. Parker had been beside herself with worry, so to reassure her, he had pretended to eat and secretly disposed of the food. Otherwise, she would have called for a doctor from Camborne immediately.

That had been two days ago, meaning he hadn’t eaten anything for over forty-eight hours. And yet, he didn’t feel hungry.

He knew it wasn’t normal but did not want to fix it.

He wasn’t sure how to fix it, and it wasn’t as if some extraordinary doctor capable of solving his issues would be found in this rural place.

As he lay there blankly, his damp body still on the ground, the sound of an approaching carriage reached his ears.

‘Who’s coming to Blissbury?’

Ever since arriving in Blissbury, he had been plagued by bothersome visits.

People claimed they were merely passing through and stopping for a brief rest, but he knew better. They had come specifically to see him.

This visitor was surely another one of them.

He wasn’t presentable, and meeting someone would only be a nuisance, so he planned to stay hidden quietly.

At that moment, the approaching carriage stopped nearby. Then, the driver let out a sigh and muttered in exasperation,

“Sergeant Thornton… I don’t want to see that man…”

Hearing those words, Ryan slowly sat up.

Unlike the others, this person seemed genuinely reluctant to see him.

Ryan turned his head toward the voice.

A woman with bright brown hair neatly twisted into a bun stood in the sunlight.

Whether it was because of the sunlight or something else, she appeared dazzling, making Ryan blink a few times.

She suddenly stepped down from the carriage as he stared blankly at Eloise. Then, rummaging through a basket under the seat, she muttered to herself,

“Mother told me to bring this, but… this apple pie is too well-made to give to that man. I should just eat it myself before I leave.”

Hearing her grumble, Ryan was speechless.

So, this woman was supposed to bring him the apple pie but was now planning to eat it here instead secretly?