As If I've Never Loved (Completed Main Story) - Side Story 2

After their miraculous reunion at the harbor, Ansel returned to Viscount Monmouth’s estate to rest, and Eloise also went back to Sainthaver, where her mother and sister were.

Several days passed, and a sunny weekend arrived—the day of the royal welcome ceremony for returning soldiers.

As Lieutenant Blaine’s partner, Eloise had been invited to the ceremony, but she was deeply troubled by the burden it imposed. In the end, she sent a reply declining Ansel’s offer to send her a dress—a decision made in hopes of drawing less attention to herself.

After much deliberation, Eloise decided to wear one of the dresses Mr. Walcott, her brother-in-law, had gifted to Sarah. Though seemingly plain at first glance due to its lack of ostentatious embellishment, the muslin dress revealed delicate embroidery upon closer inspection. She coiled her hair—braided into several strands—into an elegant updo, fully accentuating her graceful neckline.

Truly, she had agonized endlessly over this—trying to avoid becoming the center of attention while also ensuring she wouldn’t disgrace Ansel, whom she loved dearly….

“We’ve arrived.”

That day, when the sun reached its highest point, a beautiful carriage came to a halt at the agreed-upon location—the very carriage Viscount Monmouth’s household had sent for her from Sainthaver.

Before the coachman could even open the carriage door, Ansel was already standing right beside it, uncharacteristically impatient.

“Eloise.”

Though they’d only been apart for a few days, they clung to each other urgently, as if reenacting the fateful moment of their reunion.

Compared to the year and a half they’d spent without word from one another, those few days were fleeting—but they’d felt like the longest wait of a lifetime, proof of how swiftly their love had grown.

“Have you been well?”

“Thanks to you. And you? Did you speak with him? What did the viscount say…?”

“It went well.”

No sooner had he released Eloise than his lips pressed firmly against her tender cheek—not once, but several times—utterly indifferent to the onlookers around them.

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