What is this? That obsession resembling madness, as if he would find Harold, the knight who served the Pennel family, even now? His eyes were clearly smiling and his voice was kind. Yet it was inexplicable why it gave me such a chilling sensation.

“But, he must have been a terribly poor knight? To lose so miserably to a mere 10-year-old child.”

I could answer that part with absolute certainty. Harold had quit being a knight before the Pennel family was exterminated. And it was because of the humiliation of losing to Ricardo.

In any case, thanks to that, our family happened to meet him again and was able to maintain a friendship. When we first settled on the outskirts of the capital, Harold was really a big help.

In fact, he who had boasted of becoming the best knight in Lesotia said he had long known that knighthood didn’t suit him. He said being a merchant suited him better.

“Yes, that’s right. It’s a bit harsh to say he was terrible, but he clearly had no talent. Fortunately, after losing the duel with young master, he set out towards a new dream.”

“So? What dream did that knight Harold set out towards?”

“Are you saying you want to hear the whole story right here and now?”

“Is there any reason why not?”

Irritated by Ricardo’s persistent questioning about trivial matters, I glared at him briefly, forgetting that I was in the middle of a meal with the Duke and Duchess.

“Do I have to tell you the reason why not as well?”

“No. Just tell me what dream he set out towards, that’ll do.”

“A merchant, okay?”

“What does he sell?”

Looking at him bombarding me with questions without giving me time to think, I gritted my teeth. Truly thinking that it was better when he faced everything with a bored expression.

“I preferred when you were sitting like a statue.”

“What?”

“That’s right. It was better when you were just sitting there like a statue eating your meal, rather than tormenting me with such strange questions. Is Harold so important right now in this moment?”

“Do you always call him Harold, so intimately like that?”

His smiling face was clearly teasing.

“Yes, because he’s a friend.”

Seeing my foolish self getting swept up by him despite knowing this, it wasn’t such a bad feeling to see Ricardo laugh.

“He’s not your friend.”

“Do you think you know everything about me?”

“Yes.”

What could I say when the eldest son of the Rochester family claims to know everything about me? As my mouth clamped shut, not only Ricardo but also the Duke and Duchess across from us burst into small laughter.

Before we knew it, the sun had completely set, and even though there was no more food to come out, the meaningless conversation at the table continued for a while longer.

The Duke and Duchess’s bedroom.

Returning to their room, the two paced around unable to sit down, as if by agreement. Pola, her face flushed red and fidgeting with the hem of her dress, drew close to her husband. As she approached, Gerald reflexively put his arm around her waist.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen Ricardo talk so much.”

At Pola’s words, Gerald laughed a bit dryly. In fact, he too was quite surprised. The playful image of his son he saw today kept flickering before his eyes.

So he knew how to laugh like that.

The surprise wouldn’t subside, like someone who had seen a lion laugh. He looked at the family crest on the wall while holding his wife in his arms. He thought he’d sooner see the lion in the crest laugh.

It was somewhat impulsive when Pola invited Ricardo and Lienne to have dinner together.

Of course, she also had something to tell Lienne separately.

But she didn’t expect to see this kind of scene. Like an ordinary man, though this was purely Pola’s subjective thought, Ricardo laughed, frowned, and spoke.

She had heard rumors lately among the annex servants that many had seen Ricardo smiling, but she couldn’t believe it until she saw it with her own eyes.

If just a little more time passes, will we be able to see a light of resentment in that child’s face? Will we hear words blaming us for our incompetence as parents for not protecting him until the end?

When that moment comes, Pola and Gerald will embrace their son.

All this time, their fingertips tingled with the desire to hold Ricardo, and the ground beneath their feet crumbled miserably.

When that moment comes, they might be able to convey words of apology to their son. Even if they can’t be forgiven, they will beg and beg again.

And they will say they love him. They will say they wanted to save him even if it meant giving their lives. Pola burrowed into Gerald’s embrace. Gerald rested his chin on the crown of her head and sighed.

“Pola.”

“Yes, dear.”

“You were right.”

“About what?”

“That child, the Pennel daughter, is really planting a human heart in Ricardo.”

Gerald had been skeptical of his wife’s thoughts. He had rather hoped his son wouldn’t know a human heart.

How could that child alone bear all that resentment, that self-blame, and everything else when the time comes that he, by God’s will, must leave his son’s side?

Nevertheless, today Gerald realized as he looked at Ricardo.

How misguided was his resolve to maintain a cold distance for the sake of the son who would grieve after he was gone.

Seeing his son so full of life, some stubborn feeling he had held onto all this time crumbled.

If he really dies because of Ricardo someday, it would probably be to save his son. So he too must have the courage to say it. That dying for you would be an honor for me as well.

Even if they live for just one day, they should live embracing each other like that, he realized, his eyes shining sharply even in the darkness.

It was a late spring night when the hearts of the couple somehow felt more urgent.

After dinner, I went for a walk with Ricardo. I was quite dazed by the surprising fact that it was Ricardo who first suggested this walk.

True to late spring, it was cold when the wind blew, and warm like early summer when the wind stopped.

Walking through the garden resembling a forest with moonlight as our lighting evoked quite romantic sentiments.

As a cold wind blew from afar, I rubbed my shoulders a little. Like a caring future fiancé, he keenly observed my demeanor and took off his coat to drape it over my shoulders.

I wonder if he knows that each time his coat, imbued with his warmth, settles on my shoulders, another lock on my heart breaks?

It was an early summer night when impatient evening primroses bloomed profusely.

“Are you worried?”

It was barely two weeks before the engagement ceremony. What he was asking about couldn’t be anything else. I nodded slightly. Although it didn’t suit me to complain about something I started to keep myself and my family alive, I couldn’t not say so either.

I had been afraid all along.

From the moment I heard his unbelievable declaration at the Count of Chaplin’s estate until now, fear would wash over me from time to time as I prepared for the engagement.

Every time Ricardo smiled warmly, every time his kindness was directed solely at me, every time his coat settled on my shoulders and no one else’s. Whenever it felt all too real that all of this wasn’t mine, but warmth borrowed from someone else.

Since I started this of my own volition, dealing with it was my responsibility. In fact, Ricardo had no reason to even pretend to be kind to me.

So I should be grateful for this stroke of luck from heaven, and muster strength for the given situation, that’s what the real me would do… But the moments of feeling lost and afraid gradually increased.

Because I felt like I would crumble when the moment comes to leave him.

Because the memories, the meanings, the love, they exist only for me.

The garden lamps, set at appropriate intervals, evenly lit the dark path. Suddenly, he stopped walking.

Standing at the boundary of light and darkness, Ricardo looked down at me carefully. Due to the lamp shining above his head, it was difficult to gauge what expression he was making.

Ricardo removed my hand from his arm and walked alone to the long bench placed between the garden lamps. Following his path with my gaze, I discovered a bouquet of flowers sitting demurely on the bench.

It was a bouquet made of the most beautifully blooming spring flowers from all the gardens in the Duke’s residence – canola, iris, even dandelions.

Clearly made for nothing else but a proposal.

“Ah…”

In that brief moment as Ricardo moved towards it, I couldn’t move at all. As if my feet were nailed to that spot, I couldn’t move even a little.

‘How will I ever forget this moment?’

The emotion that suddenly welled up was fear.

So overwhelming that it was hard to even exhale properly, it was so immense.

Soon, the words the Duchess had said when we were alone before dinner began rang in my ears.

There was no emotion on the Duchess’s face as she conveyed those words. She continued with eyes as impassive as Ricardo’s, saying there was no need to worry, as preparations to relocate me and my family had already begun.