Then Ryan came back to his senses.

He realized that he had entered a lady’s room while she was sleeping, without permission.

If Eloise saw him, she would surely scream in shock.

He had no idea how to explain this situation. No, there was no excuse. He had come in of his own accord.

He braced himself for Eloise to shout at him as soon as she saw him.

“…Ryan?”

He heard her mumbling voice, still thick with sleep.

Absurdly enough, Ryan was so distracted by that voice that he couldn’t think straight for a moment.

What was so wonderful about hearing his name called in such a drowsy, unclear voice that made him act so foolishly…

Even as he thought this, another idea crept into his mind.

How many people had Eloise ever called by name in that tone? Excluding family and servants, and those who weren’t close enough to count as the opposite s*x, wasn’t he the first? And if not, who could it possibly have been?

Lost in his thoughts, Ryan swept his hand over his mouth.

Clearly, he wasn’t in his right mind. He needed to clear up Eloise’s misunderstanding and leave at once.

He thought she would jump up quickly now that she’d seen him. But—

Her large eyes blinked slowly at him. Each time, her long, thick eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings, framing her deep green eyes. Then they gently curved, welcoming him without any surprise or wariness, as if greeting someone completely natural.

Her smiling eyes softly closed again. The green eyes that had been looking at him disappeared beneath her eyelids, and Eloise’s head drooped.

“…Eloise?”

Ryan called her name in confusion, but there was no answer.

All that returned was her breathing, even softer than before.

As he watched Eloise, Ryan understood the situation.

She had simply fallen back asleep—even after seeing him in her room!

A laugh of disbelief escaped him. Unsure what to do, Ryan sat down across from her. Resting his chin on his hand, he leaned forward to look at her face.

At first, she slept with no particular expression, but as if she were dreaming, a faint wrinkle appeared on her brow. Then her face relaxed, and the corners of her mouth lifted.

This time, it seemed like something good was happening in her dream.

Ryan watched her face for a long while. Even asleep, she showed so many expressions.

He had never looked at someone’s sleeping face like this before, so he was simply fascinated and amused.

Without taking his eyes off her, Ryan thought back to the Eloise Surberton he had come to know.

She was interesting and amazing—always flitting about Blissbury, never resting, handling all sorts of tasks, and in between, never forgetting to raise her voice in lively debate with him. But whenever Ryan casually brought up army stories, she would instantly brighten, listening intently to his tales.

Naturally, their conversations would turn to military operations and strategy.

Every time they talked like that, Ryan was quietly impressed.

Talking with her, he couldn’t tell whether he was at Blissbury or in a military conference room at army headquarters.

From old tactics to the latest strategies, she spoke as if she knew more than the academy’s tactical professors. Of course, Eloise’s knowledge wasn’t perfect.

Most of it was outdated, and some tactics had already been rendered obsolete by the recent war.

But considering she lived in the countryside and had such limited access to books and information, it was truly remarkable.

So Ryan would deliberately take out maps and explain the battles he had experienced and the tactics used. He even described failed strategies that never made it into the newspapers.

Eloise would ponder for a long time, then offer her own opinion on why those tactics had failed.

Most of her guesses matched the reasons for defeat as judged by army headquarters.

Their discussions often stretched through mealtimes. When talking about Albion’s major battles, Ryan and Eloise sometimes disagreed—especially about battles involving the 57th Infantry Battalion.

Ryan would intentionally criticize Ryan Wilgrave’s command, sharply pointing out the mistakes made at the time.

Since those mistakes were his own, it was easier for him to be harsh.

After Ryan gave his harsh assessment of Colonel Wilgrave, it was Eloise’s turn.

If Mr. Palmer hadn’t been nearby, Eloise looked as if she might have pushed Ryan down the stairs, glaring at him and refuting his opinions. She would defend Colonel Wilgrave with every bit of knowledge she had. Of course, Ryan never let her have the last word.

“But in the end, since they lost that battle, doesn’t that prove Colonel Wilgrave’s strategy wasn’t very good?”

“Should I explain it again, Sergeant? Even if it was a defeat, thanks to him, the 57th Infantry Battalion withdrew with minimal losses. Then they quickly joined the next battlefield and led the following battle to victory. Surely you know that battle was crucial to the Albion army’s survival?”

Ryan wondered why Eloise was so passionate about defending Wilgrave.

In the end, Eloise would get up first, turn away in a huff, and leave, thoroughly annoyed. But Ryan always felt a strange satisfaction watching her walk away. His lips twisted into a smile as he watched her sleep.

She was so passionate in her defense, yet—

When she looked at Sergeant Ryan Thornton, her eyes were full of wariness and suspicion, but when she spoke of Colonel Wilgrave, her eyes softened in a way she herself didn’t realize.

After defending Wilgrave as if singing his praises, Eloise would always gaze off into the distance.

That direction was toward the capital.

Whenever Ryan saw Eloise looking that way, he felt a twist in his chest.

He’d considered telling her outright that he was Ryan Wilgrave. At first, she wouldn’t believe him, but if Baron Stanford verified his identity, she’d have no choice.

He wondered what kind of expression Eloise would make then. But that thought always stayed in the realm of his imagination.

When summer passed and autumn arrived, he would have to return to the capital. He’d have to answer the disciplinary committee’s summons that he’d put off and finish up other military tasks.

Meanwhile, how much more would the honor of Ryan Wilgrave be torn apart?

Thinking of his father, who was still desperate to bring him down, Ryan’s excitement faded into heaviness.

Eloise still supported Colonel Wilgrave. But that feeling wouldn’t last forever.

So Ryan hoped that Eloise would remember him as Sergeant Ryan Thornton, the one who stayed for a while, annoyed her, but shared exciting tactical discussions. That way, he would remain in her memory just as he was now.

Then Eloise curled up even more.

Even on a summer night, the breeze blowing around Blissbury was chilly. She seemed to be feeling cold.

He considered waking her, but seeing the dark circles under her eyes, he thought it might be better to let her sleep a bit longer.

“But I can’t just leave her cold!”

Looking around, he spotted a large shawl beside Eloise. He carefully approached and spread it over her. Eloise grasped the shawl he’d covered her with and relaxed a little, though her body was still curled up.

He thought about bringing something else to cover her, but everything in the room was too thick and bulky. Besides, carrying something like that out would be awkward if anyone saw him.

Still, he couldn’t leave Eloise like this, so after some thought, he took off his summer jacket. It was fairly thick and still warm from his body heat. When he covered her with it, she finally relaxed and stretched out.

Ryan then rifled through the papers on the table.

He considered leaving a note saying he’d left because she was sleeping so deeply.

“Hm?”

On the paper, his name was written.

Ryan Wilgrave.

Written in decorative script, the kind used for invitations.

Even here, she was thinking of Ryan Wilgrave. He was about to shake his head when he saw another name, scrawled messily as if written with her left hand.

Ryan Thornton.

And below that, one more sentence:

I really hate you!