As I left the ancient mansion,

The fragrant scent of spring wafted through the tree branches, and green leaves began to reveal the elegance of spring.

Only then could I finally breathe.

Taking a deep breath, the face of that man from earlier flooded back to me.

He cruelly narrowed his eyes as he looked at me, stopping before the last sentence.

As if asking why I didn’t read to the end.

With eyes that already knew the ending.

The male protagonist I thought was trash turned out not to be trash. Surprisingly.

He pushed away the female protagonist because he was terminally ill and didn’t want her to wait for him.

The male protagonist spends all 365 days dying in long waiting and longing.

While hiding in a deep place without her.

Just reading that book made it hard to breathe.

It was probably because Cassian was right in front of me.

Cassian, the terminally ill young master who looked exactly like the terminally ill male protagonist.

It was truly cruel to recite the tragedy that protagonist faced in front of him.

Especially since it’s such an obvious ending for a terminally ill patient.

How long had it been since I vowed not to mix emotions into my work? Yet I crumbled as soon as I saw that young master’s empty eyes.

The pages that looked worn from being read over and over were clearly Cassian’s traces.

The sickly young master must have prepared for his own end many times while reading this.

It suddenly felt real that the young master, who had always seemed so lofty, was terminally ill.

Is that young master, who seemed like he would live forever arrogantly with those tormenting eyes, also counting his final days like the male protagonist in that book?

At least that protagonist had a woman who would wait for him forever.

Cassian didn’t even have that.

Ah, I wonder if the people of Blanchet in that faraway capital are waiting for him.

Since he’s the only heir, I thought they might be, but then again, thinking of those who never show themselves, it didn’t seem likely.

Aren’t parents usually always by the side of their sick child?

What are they doing, throwing their son who’s been given his death date to wait for the end in such a faraway land?

Perhaps they’re dealing with the vassals who have risen up saying the heir is sickly, and preparing for Blanchet’s new future.

That’s how it usually goes in the daily papers about the nature of nobles.

Blanchet has also been noisy ever since rumors spread that the heir was sickly, so they must be busy dealing with such things.

Even so, is that more important than their son?

Well, how would a commoner like me with no title know the circumstances of the empire’s representative family?

Nevertheless, for a moment, he who had everything seemed pitiful compared to me, who I always believed was at the very bottom.

Cassian asked me if I pitied him.

In that moment, Yuriel instinctively answered no.

It couldn’t be called a false answer, nor an honest one.

I pitied that young master for a moment, but thinking about it, there’s nothing more ridiculous than someone in my position pitying him.

There’s nothing more ridiculous than me worrying about the noble heir of Blanchet.

He spitefully said he didn’t need pity from the likes of me.

Saying that even if he died, he’d be buried in a better place than me.

Cassian’s eyes looked sad as he spoke of being buried in a very splendid and tall coffin adorned with jewels.

Even though his mouth was smiling.

My deranged sense of pity was shattered when he flicked open a lighter.

Repeatedly igniting and extinguishing the spark with a sharp click, Cassian flicked his finger to snatch the book from me.

Then, with an expressionless face, he set fire to the book.

Cassian stared dryly at the flames as they flared up, then threw the burning book into the fireplace by the bedside.

His nonchalant attitude was so shocking it became frightening.

Making the brief moment I felt sympathy for Cassian and saw him as a being like myself seem meaningless.

As if that wasn’t shocking enough, he said he would summon the author again to rewrite the book.

Saying this book was wrong somewhere.

Behind his dry tone, a contrasting bloody smile on his face stared at me.

With eyes that still made it impossible to know what he was thinking.

Well, unlike me, Cassian can order someone around until he dies.

As he wishes.

I too am just one of those toys.

It was terrifying to think I had almost forgotten my place for a moment.

That terminally ill young master is more dangerous and cruel than anyone.

Someone like me could easily be twisted and broken.

As he said, even the coffin he’ll be buried in will be many times more splendid and beautiful than the shabby house where I live with my sick mother.

It’s extremely dangerous to let your guard down even for a moment in front of such a great being.

If I show an opening, I won’t be able to protect my mother.

Now I really need to turn off my emotions.

It was time to crush these luxurious feelings and head to my next workplace.

Fortunately, that willful young master strictly kept to the time agreement, so it seemed there would be no problem with my next job.

Just in case, I had left some extra time until my next job and found myself with a brief moment of leisure.

Enough to walk rather than take a carriage from here to my next workplace, Mrs. Riddle’s shop.

Of course, I’d have to walk a bit faster, but it’s worth it to save on the fare.

As I hurriedly crossed the dirt path that seemed to lead to the training grounds past the fountain and garden,

The ground shook roughly.

I looked up to see a familiar face gradually growing larger as it rapidly approached me.

On horseback.

‘No way…’

It couldn’t possibly be the face I knew, but it kept looking that way.

‘Am I seeing things from overwork?’

The high-quality horse with its mane well-combed galloped roughly before swerving to avoid me and coming to a stop.

Its quivering body looked quite elegant.

This type was called a Holsteiner breed, wasn’t it?

As soon as that thought flashed by, I looked up to confirm the horse’s owner.

My mouth fell open in shock at the figure leaping down.

There’s no way I wouldn’t recognize someone I’d seen so many times.

‘Hael.’

This boy was my puppy love from long ago.

Though he had grown much taller than before and his body was toned without an ounce of fat, showing he was clearly an adult now, it was definitely the boy I knew.

“It’s been a while.”

“It has been.”

The low voice digging into the ground was clearly different from his former boyish tone.

But his bright smile was no different from before.

Hael was a rare being with a pretty name in Alphonse village, which was little more than a rural area.

As pretty as my name, Yuriel.

The difference was that Hael’s circumstances were as different from mine as heaven and earth.

Hael’s family ran a horse ranch that was considered the best among the commoners of Alphonse.

Hael’s father who ran that ranch was the second son of some noble family, and though he didn’t inherit a title for not being the firstborn, he was a man who exuded a noble air.

Moreover, they had good brotherly relations, so Hael’s uncle gave his father a portion of the family fortune.

Even if it was just a useless horse ranch from the perspective of the nobles in the capital, it was still impressive.

After all, it was common for the eldest son to drive out other siblings in the struggle for inheritance.

With that money, Hael’s mansion boasted a tall roof that stood out among the flat, unremarkable houses.

To my young eyes, that mansion was truly the grandest of mansions.

Hael’s father was also quite skilled, accumulating wealth by breeding and selling horses well and bringing in rare breeds of fine horses through foreign merchant groups.

In this way, Hael’s mansion gradually grew in size.

Back then, I, no, all the village children thought Hael’s house was the largest mansion in the empire.

After all, children’s worlds are confined to small wells when they’re young.

Hael’s family was the only one who could freely enter and leave this lord’s mansion, which ordinary subjects could never dream of approaching.

The lord and his wife enjoyed hunting like other nobles, and horses had many uses.

Even that picky lord who considered it dreadful to let commoners into his home allowed Hael’s people entry.

After all, there were few in this domain who possessed as many fine horses as Hael’s father.

Perhaps because he grew up in such a family, Hael knew everything there was to know about horses.

It was all Hael who taught me about horse breeds like Holsteiner that I would never see in my lifetime.

How to comb the mane, what this horse’s name was, what the black horse of that family was called – if it weren’t for Hael, I probably would have never known any of it.

Using that brilliant talent as a stepping stone, Hael flew away. To the capital.

As if he would never see this worthless Alphonse village again, leaving it behind.

Hael’s overzealous mother made such a fuss that there wasn’t a single person in the village who didn’t know about it.

[Hael has received sponsorship from the great Blanchet family. Yes, he was selected as a scholarship student. How well he handles horses without even being taught. There’s no one in the empire as good as our Hael…]

The person who once lit both ends of the candle saying Hael took after his father and only followed horse’s behinds disappeared as soon as he was selected as a scholarship student.

My mother, who also worked under Hael’s mother, would halfheartedly go along with those words.

But deep down, she also hoped things would work out between Hael and me.

My mother always worried about me being left alone because of her illness.

To my mother’s eyes, which seemed to have tasted bitterness due to a father of high status, Hael appeared to be someone I could desire to a reasonable degree.

I didn’t disagree with that either.

The son of a wealthy commoner family who liked me.

Hael and Yuriel. I thought our names went well together, just as the villagers said.

In fact, I liked him even without such conditions.

Who wouldn’t like a boy with such a bright smile?

In reality, many girls besides me liked this boy.

But this boy’s choice was me, in the past.

And judging by the fact that he kept sending me letters even though I didn’t reply until recently, Hael probably still likes me. Unchanged.

I thought I would be more nervous meeting again…

Strangely, I don’t feel any trembling.

He was always in a higher place than me, so there was discomfort at the bottom, but now I just feel indifferent. Oddly so.

Is it because I’ve been inside a mansion even larger than Hael’s house, which I once thought was the biggest in the world?

Or is it because Hael is overshadowed by the overwhelming aura of that sickly young master?

It seems I’ve lost my sense of reality after encountering the great Blanchet once.

After roughly defining it that way, I returned Hael’s friendly greeting.

“Your face has turned into a snowman after visiting the capital.”

Hael chuckled, then immediately frowned.

“You, didn’t you get my letters?”

“I did.”

“Then why didn’t you reply even once? Isn’t it too much to not reply after dozens of letters?”

“I was too busy, I couldn’t help it.”

Hael’s face contorted visibly. Then he nodded as if he understood.

“Have you been… doing well?”

I explained everything that had happened as if giving an account.

Omitting only the things that happened after coming here and that young master’s strange behavior.

I’m not sure why I created such a secret, but somehow it felt like I shouldn’t reveal it.

As our long-awaited reunion continued, Hael’s gaze became fixed on something behind me, unmoving.

As I slowly turned my head, I saw a man precariously perched on a distant window, as if clinging to it.

His languid form looked just like a predator stalking its prey, making my breath stop even at this distance.

Cassian de Blanchet.

As our eyes met, he smoothly narrowed his eyes.
With one corner of his mouth curled up crookedly.