I wonder what this person is thinking.

Upon investigation, it seemed that his uncle, Count Alton, was not expelled from the family, but merely driven out of the mansion, concluding the incident.

For some reason, I could guess that his father, Deviran, the head of the Blanchet family, was a soft person.

He responded in that way even long ago when he almost lost his life because of Count Alton.

Even if it was close to humiliation for the family and they tried to hide it, by this point, it would have been natural for Count Alton to pay for it with his life.

The fact that he was kept alive… It could only be interpreted that way.

But this man was different.

If he had blood relatives, it was clear that this man, who could cruelly cut them off, should have cut off that uncle.

He could have also used me to stab that person sufficiently.

Even if I were to die in the process, this man would have carried it through.

Yet he…

No matter how much I look at it, his incomprehensible profile slowly comes into view.

As if sensing my gaze, his head slowly turned towards me.

I quickly turned my head away just before meeting his eyes.

Because when his red eyes are filled with me, it’s suffocating as if burning up.

I’m trying to avoid it like this.

However, complete avoidance was not possible.

I could feel his gaze breaking into pieces on my side.

As a chilly wind brushed by, the man put his coat on me and gently tied it tightly.

“Why did you save me?”

A rather cold wind moved over the setting sun.

As my hair covered my face, the world turned red, then scattered again, revealing the background of the setting sun.

The man’s voice lazily settled on top of that.

“It would be a lie if I said I didn’t want to kill you.”

“But why…”

“Don’t disappear. That’s what I’m saying. With my whole body.”

“…”

“Was it not obvious?”

There was no rise and fall in his low and decadent voice that resembled his face.

Because of that, his face that I turned to look at was different from usual.

His eyes touched by the wind held a ripple.

The corners of his raised lips even made me feel the illusion that he really loved me.

For a brief moment, like a passing spring breeze, guilt gnaws at me.

It was the first emotion I felt towards the man.

But as is usually the nature of the wind, such thoughts soon moved elsewhere.

The fact that the man likes me is just a detestable thing rustling on the surface.

Just like me.

There was no reason to feel such emotions towards him, who still held what I wanted while giving nothing to me.

In reality, it felt like I had to rationalize it that way to survive.

I had to comfort myself that everything would be forgotten once this moment passed.

As I turned my head, I could see the water path breaking into foam.

The water that had approached just moments ago disappeared again into the breaking waves.

Yes. The man’s smile and these kinds of words will eventually disappear like foam in front of me, in my life.

As I looked out the window, feeling the uniform jostling of the returning carriage, my thoughts were lightly organized.

Since that day, the man has consistently treated me in a gentlemanly manner.

All his actions – having normal conversations, eating excessively good meals, and dropping me off at the back of the square – were filled with his delicate consideration.

The gentle voice and approaching gentle touches were changes that are still unbelievable even now.

Ah, of course, I’ve heard stories about how noble young men and ladies fall in love like this.

But the other person is not just any noble lady, it’s me.

I was starting to wonder if the man was mistaking me for someone else.

However, there was no time to indulge in such emotional games.

On the busy commute as usual, thoughts of the man were washed away without a trace.

What should I do today, who should I contact.

Also… how many words of rejection would be piled up.

Just thinking about it made it hard to breathe and my chest felt tight.

As my quick steps were about to turn the corner, I saw the clerks murmuring about something among themselves.

Their murmuring, always interested in others’ affairs, was nothing out of the ordinary.

I was about to keep moving when I stopped upon hearing a name.

“Why, there’s a rumor that the Blanchet heir is crazy about Lady Fiocel.”

“I heard they met separately.”

“Oh, how romantic. He’s usually someone who doesn’t even attend social events, right?”

“I heard Young Master Cassian sent flowers as a gift.”

Headlines that seemed to corroborate their words came into view.

More murmuring covered those headlines.

“But this is a bit strange… My relative runs a flower shop, you know? Well, they say the flowers the Blanchet family bought were marigolds?”

Marigolds.

Those flowers symbolizing the sorrow of parting are mainly used in high society to express rejection or refusal to the other person.

“They must have misunderstood. If that was the intention, why would they meet in person?”

“Or maybe because the knights bought them, they just thought they were pretty flowers.”

“That’s right. Men can be surprisingly insensitive in some ways.”

The buzzing words brushed past my ears.

The person who raised the doubt eventually closed their mouth, and the conclusion moved towards the perfect love story ending of that man loving the lady.

As always, people are excited about happy endings, and maybe it’s natural since no one matches him as well as that lady.

For me too, it was an expected and natural result, so even if I couldn’t congratulate them, there was nothing to be surprised about.

No, that’s how it should have been.

But for some reason, my heart sinks.

Is it because it’s somehow funny that while he acted like a different person in front of me, saying such things and showing affection, he was sending flowers to another lady behind my back?

Or is it because I’m afraid of being cast aside?

Either way, the fact that my emotions are stirring is not right at all.

A very strange change bubbled up and surged inside me.

Fortunately, as soon as I entered the administrative building, all those weird feelings were forgotten.

At the center table, I saw my sleeping supervisor.

Several bottles of alcohol were rolling on his side table, which reeked of alcohol.

It seemed he had fallen asleep right here.

My heart sank heavily, as this was unlike my supervisor who never used to break down like this.

At the same time, the thoughts that had been stirring about the man just moments ago evaporated without a trace.

How could I have been so conscienceless to indulge in such emotional games while there was still an enormous unsolved problem?

I felt pathetic and dumbfounded at myself.

Even during the time when I had to meet the man as part of my work, my supervisor must have been writhing in pain.

I felt detestable for having such thoughts despite seeing Baroness Baorbin, who had to give up searching for her daughter because of me, and my supervisor falling apart miserably before my eyes.

Carrying those coldly frozen thoughts, I sat down and turned the pages like that.

Repeating the task of looking at the piled-up documents, stamping and organizing papers to be approved.

At the end of it, there were always numerous rejection letters piled up.

By now, I had written so many sponsorship proposal letters that it was hard to find anyone to send them to, but no matter how many times I saw them, I just couldn’t get used to the sponsors’ rejection documents.

Even after seeing them thousands of times, my heart sank heavily every time I checked and turned over those things that wouldn’t become familiar.

What should I say when my supervisor wakes up?

I should act as if nothing happened, as usual.

I built up promises upon promises like that, piling up things that would be scraped away by even a light wind like a sand castle.

After pushing the letters into the fireplace dejectedly many times again like that.

At the end, one last letter without a seal wrapped around my hand.

Since it didn’t even have a seal, I didn’t have any expectations this time either.

As I was about to open it with a sigh, my supervisor got up from his seat.

He walked out with big strides, saying he would go to the dormitory, looking embarrassed as if he was ashamed of being caught in such a state by me.

As he passed by me, he glanced at the letter and said with a smile that seemed forced:

“You should take breaks too while working. You’ll collapse at this rate.”

As always, there was warmth buried in that gruff tone.

It was even harder to see my supervisor’s face trying to smile with no strength at all.

Someone like me who couldn’t repay even a little bit would probably no longer be needed.

Even though he knows all of this is because of me…

Tears came out endlessly.

Through my blurry vision, I could see my supervisor’s surprised face.

Again, thinking only of myself, shedding these tears just to ease my guilt, it was utterly disgusting.

Thinking that made me even more sorrowful, and tears came out incessantly.

“I’m sorry, supervisor.”

My supervisor roughly put down a handkerchief on the table.

Unlike the soft silk handkerchief, his hands were extremely rough.

Unable to bear looking at that, I lowered my head and muttered to myself for a long time.

“I’m really sorry, supervisor.”

Meanwhile, perhaps because he couldn’t stand seeing me in this state, the footsteps that had strode out quickly had already returned in front of me.

Through my blurry vision, I could see the glass of water my supervisor held out.

His voice settled indifferently over it.

“Stop crying. It’s not your fault.”

Feeling sorry for causing trouble again by bursting into tears, I quickly wiped my tears away.

As my blurry vision finally cleared, an unbelievable phrase came into view.

My hand holding the last letter trembled miserably.