Ryan couldn’t sleep at all and tossed and turned throughout the night.

Insomnia had always been a companion for him, so it wasn’t anything new. But last night felt especially long and difficult.

As he tried to figure out why, Ryan soon found the answer.

‘I’ve been sleeping well lately.’

While he was in the army, there were only a handful of nights each year when he fell asleep quickly.

During the war, he was always on edge, never knowing when the enemy might attack again.

Even after the war ended, his insomnia didn’t improve. Afterward, he was constantly dragged from place to place by disciplinary committees and the relentless criticism of the press.

And even when he did manage to sleep, he was plagued by nightmares.

Sometimes his poor decisions led to the annihilation of his unit, or a shell would explode right next to him, tearing apart a comrade he’d just been joking with.

He wished that in those dreams, he could die along with them, but he always survived to witness the full horror.

Even after waking, the vivid stench of blood and filth from his dreams would make him retch over and over.

The bitter taste burning his throat was so awful that he eventually became afraid to fall asleep.

When all of these symptoms were getting worse, he came down to Blissbury.

He’d hoped things might improve here, but when they didn’t, he decided he might as well return to the capital…

‘At some point, I started sleeping soundly.’

Ryan tried to remember when that change happened. It wasn’t hard to recall.

It was when preparations for the summer banquet began.

It was funny. Before then, his days at Blissbury consisted of waking up, eating, taking walks, reading, and going to bed.

Even when he could relax, he’d spent his days tormented by sleeplessness.

But once the banquet preparations began, he was busy from morning to night, barely having a moment to rest.

There was so much to pay attention to, and with all the physical work, Ryan would wash up and collapse into bed, falling asleep instantly.

He’d tried similar things before.

When he was at the army headquarters in the capital, he’d spent entire days at the training grounds, but all that did was tire his body; it never helped him sleep. Even if he did sleep, the nightmares persisted.

But while preparing for the summer festivity, he hadn’t had a single nightmare.

He slept deeply, without dreaming, and woke up at dawn ready to move again…

He closed his eyes, but his mind only became clearer, so he finally got up.

Pulling back the curtains, he saw rain streaming down the windows.

It was 6 o’clock.

Hesitating in the chilly room, he left and headed for the kitchen, thinking maybe some hot water would help.

‘Should I bring some firewood for the fireplace?’

Mr. Palmer would be appalled. He always insisted that he or the servants should be told to do such things.

But Ryan enjoyed doing those “chores” himself.

Cutting dead trees, hanging large paintings on the wall, bringing firewood—those tasks.

If he did them himself, he could finish faster than if he left them to someone else. And above all…

‘Eloise enjoys it.’

Unlike Mr. Palmer, she never said, “Please just finish quickly,” or tried to stop Ryan from doing things himself.

On the contrary, she’d call him over to ask for help with this or that, saying it was his duty as the caretaker. Once, she’d even asked him to catch a bug with lots of legs.

When he caught the insignificant bug and tossed it outside, she’d praised him extravagantly for the first time.

After that, he’d sometimes show her the bugs he caught, only to be told to stop bringing them.

Remembering that, Ryan laughed to himself and paused.

‘I’ve been trying not to think about it.’

But when he let his mind wander, his thoughts always ended up with Eloise.

He slowly walked down the stairs, looking at his hand.

He remembered the night of the banquet, dancing with her in the hallway to the music.

They both moved joyfully until the music ended.

Even after the music stopped, Ryan didn’t let go of her hand.

He wanted to keep holding it, even if there was no music, even if they weren’t dancing.

That slender hand that left little scribbles saying she hated him.

Ryan touched his hand, as if Eloise’s warmth still lingered there.

He’d attended countless banquets.

Sometimes by order, sometimes as a duty befitting his rank, sometimes as part of a mission.

Not once had he ever thought a banquet was enjoyable. For him, it was just a noisy time he wished would pass quickly.

But at this country banquet, with no formality and no rules, he’d enjoyed dancing for the first time.

He wished the music wouldn’t end, that the morning sun wouldn’t rise.

He knew what he wanted.

He wanted the heart of the woman he’d thought was shameless and unruly when they first met.

As he was about to head downstairs, he turned to look at the long hallway.

It was the hallway where he’d danced with Eloise.

Even without closing his eyes, he could clearly recall that night.

Ryan clenched his hand tightly. His palm tingled.

Without thinking, he brought his hand to his lips, then, startled by his own action, quickly lowered it. No one was watching, but he blushed as if he’d done the most embarrassing thing in the world.

He hurried to the kitchen, where the maid turned at the sound of his footsteps.

He asked her for hot water for tea, then put the teapot and tea on a tray.

“With this weather, I suppose even you, Sergeant, haven’t slept well. How long will this rain last…”

Ryan smiled at the maid’s grumbling but didn’t say anything more.

There were many reasons he couldn’t sleep, but the most decisive was what Richard had said yesterday.

“What are you going to do?”

It was a short question, but it carried many meanings.

Ryan remembered the issue Richard had pointed out with the words “transfer of post.”

It wasn’t wrong. Early next year, he’d probably be transferred from the 57th Infantry Battalion to somewhere else.

‘This winter, the disciplinary committee will try to resolve my case.’

With the war over and everyone away for summer holidays, the committee was currently inactive.

All its members were nobles, so they were probably off at southern coastal cities, enjoying the social scene.

But only until summer. In autumn, everyone would return to the capital and the committee would reconvene. The very first thing they’d do would be to deal with his case.

“Earl Wallace is showing his face at Brisham’s social gatherings every day. You know a lot of the committee members and officers are there, right?”

Ryan’s biological father seemed intent on using this opportunity to completely ruin his illegitimate son’s military career. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be making a point of meeting people there.

“So, have you considered dropping by Brisham, even briefly?”

Richard was suggesting that Ryan should go there, show his face to those whom Earl Wallace hadn’t won over yet, and use his reputation as a war hero to avoid punishment by the committee.

In the past, Ryan would have refused without hesitation.

He’d never intended to avoid the punishment he was due. He’d rather just accept it. He believed it was the proper penalty for a survivor.

‘But if I decide to confess to Eloise…’

First, he’d have to reveal that he was Ryan Wilgrave.

But what if Ryan Wilgrave was someone everyone pointed fingers at, whose past achievements were denied?

Ryan recalled how Eloise had stood up for him at dinner.

He was glad she trusted and supported him. But whether she would continue to do so, he couldn’t be sure.

Even people in the capital who’d seemed trustworthy for life had eventually turned their backs on him.

‘More than anything…’

Ryan remembered Eloise’s smile.

If he confessed, she wouldn’t reject him.

Maybe it was baseless confidence, but he was certain.

But then, would being with him be good for Eloise?

He remembered the criticism that had poured down on him in the capital. If Eloise stayed by his side, that criticism would fall on her too.

The moment he reached that thought, he made up his mind.