Aden, who had pulled the reins of the horse galloping across the pasture, let out a long sigh.

Just then, a strong wind blowing over the high western mountains cooled the beads of sweat on his forehead.

“Go, let’s go together.”

Benjamin, who had struggled to ride his horse following Aden, panted and quietly reproached him.

Benjamin thought Aden was still dwelling on what had happened earlier.

Otherwise, there would have been no reason to suddenly say they should leave and then dash off at a frantic pace.

Panting, Benjamin approached Aden’s side and wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.

He too seemed to quite enjoy the incoming wind, silently gazing at the western mountains before discreetly rolling his eyes.

For a moment, the image of his old friend staring blankly to one side overlapped with the scene of him spoon-feeding Ludmila.

A crooked smile appeared on his lips as he recalled the laughable scene. Surely, he couldn’t be doing such an outrageous thing here.

“When did you return?”

Aden’s eyes rolled over with a quiet question as he silently stared in the direction of the wind.

Benjamin lightly shrugged his shoulders and likewise shifted his gaze forward.

“This morning. I had some business at my family home, so I went briefly.”

“I guess Viscount Numer still doesn’t approve of his grandson marrying a noble from the capital? Seeing as he didn’t spare the trouble of summoning you home at such an important time.”

It wasn’t just the imperial nobles who were conservative and closed-off. Even after half a century, there were still those who remembered the Kan people before their subjugation.

They remained as tribal chiefs or parents of chiefs, exerting their influence.

Benjamin’s grandfather, though his body had grown frail as he neared seventy, still harbored the same hatred towards the empire.

Because of this, when his only grandson became a son-in-law to an imperial noble instead of continuing the family line, he couldn’t help but be furious.

The thought that he had abandoned his clan was stronger than the notion that their lineage had been cut off.

“That’s nothing new, so it’s not a big deal. Rather, isn’t what I just saw more surprising?”

“…”

“What’s going on?”

Though Benjamin still had a smile on his lips, his eyes were quite cold.

Even to him, as the son-in-law of the Turval family and a high-ranking politician in the current empire, what Aden had just done was unimaginable.

Ludmila had disappeared.

A few weeks ago, when that rumor spread, the empire was in uproar.

Articles about the discord between the once-harmonious couple, coupled with news of Ludmila’s disappearance, shook the entire empire, to the point where the exasperated Marquis Erdi had to hold a press conference himself.

“I heard the Marchioness was unwell and had gone to the Erdi marquisate for recuperation. Some newspapers even sent people to confirm that the Marchioness was there. But here she is, the Marchioness who was said to have gone to the Erdi marquisate.”

Aden spurred his horse forward once again.

Benjamin, who had been following Aden’s movements with his eyes, lowered the corners of his mouth and followed behind him.

“Aden.”

At the edge of the pasture, Benjamin approached Aden’s side as he stood on a high cliff, squinting his eyes against the sunlight.

“When you said you were leaving without hearing about the parliament’s budget revision, I wondered what you were thinking.”

Instead of answering, Aden merely rolled his eyes slightly to look at Benjamin.

At the sight of his slightly upturned lips, a sigh tinged with a wry laugh escaped Benjamin’s mouth.

His friend, who never embraced risks, had for the first time thrown out a move akin to gambling.

And not just any gamble, but one that held the lifeline of the Havertz and their clan.

“Surely, you haven’t eloped with the Marchioness after falling in love? What are you thinking?”

“How’s life in the capital for you?”

“What?”

“It’s your third year of marriage this year, isn’t it? Seems like you’ve enjoyed the newlywed phase enough, so why don’t you recite some sentiments?”

“You…”

Benjamin’s brow furrowed deeply as Aden deflected instead of answering.

He frowned slightly, let out a small sigh, and then lowered his shoulders that had been raised high.

“How long do I have to keep my mouth shut? Surely, you’re not planning to hold onto that woman forever?”

“Four months. Protecting her until the frozen land thaws and she can go to the Kingdom of Islau. That’s the condition.”

“An ambiguous timeframe. But what are you thinking? You know it can’t be discovered that the Marchioness is here. Even if this place is secluded, what if it somehow gets out that you’re harboring her in the castle?”

Benjamin posed the most basic and sensible question.

It was a question that Ludmila had once pondered as well, but she had an obligation to earn money.

Because Ludmila regarded that obligation as her own conviction, she chose to find a way in the castle rather than hiding far away.

“Even now, you should place her somewhere quiet. Let her stay there and send her off after four months.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Aden.”

“Ludmila chose me. And she came all the way here trusting only in me. You want me to stick her in some corner beyond my influence, saying I’m protecting her? That won’t do.”

Aden brushed back his hair, disheveled by the wind, and gave a faint smile.

“Ludmila willingly endured the humiliation and insults I threw at her to stay here. So I have an obligation to live up to that.”

“You’re crazy.”

“That’s not something I should hear from someone who got married despite his grandfather threatening to cut off his head.”

His crooked lips held a deep sneer. Benjamin, left speechless, smoothed his furrowed brow and let out a long sigh.

By now, the sun was setting in the distance.

Benjamin, who had been staring intently at the sun disappearing below the horizon, jerked his chin.

“Are you sure about this?”

As Aden’s gaze returned to him, Benjamin narrowed his eyes slightly, exhaling a long breath.

“That she’s leaving in four months.”

“It’s certain.”

“I’m not asking about the Marchioness’s intentions, but yours.”

The Aden he knew was a man who had never been swayed by a woman, and seemed unlikely to ever be.

“Can you maintain your current attitude even after four months?”

Aden’s eyes, tinged red by the setting sun, wavered for a moment, but an even clearer smile appeared on his lips.

That was the entirety of his answer. Benjamin, realizing that asking further would be meaningless, changed the subject.

Along with the thought that his hometown seemed to have become more uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry for startling you, Deputy Minister of Finance.”

As the sun had completely set and dusk was falling, Ludmila bowed politely to Benjamin, who had just returned.

Benjamin, who was handing over his horse to the stable keeper, widened his eyes at the unexpected apology.

“Mar… no, Lady Ludmila, why are you apologizing?”

“Because I think I startled you. I knew you were from the Kan people, but I never imagined I’d see you here.”

That doesn’t seem like something you should apologize for.

The one who should actually be apologizing was returning a beat late, just now dismounting from his horse.

Benjamin gave a social smile to Ludmila, who was looking at him with worried eyes.

“Not at all. If you apologize like that, I should be the one who’s sorry. I should have notified you in advance of my visit.”

Moreover, it’s also Aden’s fault for not letting me know beforehand. As he sighed, Aden approached, examined Ludmila, and then furrowed his brow.

“Why are you out here?”

“Huh? Oh, to apologize…”

“You can apologize inside. I’m asking why you came out when you’re sick and not feeling well.”

Aden frowned as he took off his coat and draped it over Ludmila’s shoulders.

At this action, Benjamin and the servants all widened their eyes in surprise, but Aden himself seemed unaffected.

“Don’t let your cold get worse and start whining. Go inside. Salom. Tell the head maid to bring some warm tea.”

“Yes, I understand.”

Salom, who had been standing with wide eyes, quickly turned to carry out his assigned task.

Aden nodded slightly to dismiss the servants, then gestured lightly to Ludmila.

“Go in. Don’t stay out in the wind unnecessarily.”

Ludmila nodded with a disgruntled expression and turned around.

Aden, who had been intently watching her disappear through the open door, followed after her.

Left alone, Benjamin silently watched the two of them vanish from sight.

“What? You’re certain?”

A sneer appeared on his crooked lips.

“That’s nonsense even a passing dog wouldn’t believe.”

Benjamin shook his head slightly and snorted.

The next day. The doctor finished examining Ludmila and withdrew.

Ludmila let out a sigh of relief at the opinion that fortunately, her fever had gone down significantly and her cold hadn’t worsened.

She had things to take care of and wanted to get out of the sickbed as soon as possible.

She had discovered timber that would be beneficial for the finances.

Now all that was left was to find buyers, sell the timber, and then choose investment options based on those funds.

How long would it take? At shortest, two months. At longest, three months. In any case, it was a matter she could handle before leaving this place.

Ludmila got up from her seat, tightly wrapped a thick shawl around herself, and approached the door.

First, she needed to return to her room. One day confined to the infirmary was enough. Ludmila planned to take the documents she had organized in her room to Aden.

“Lady Ludmila. A letter has arrived for you.”

“…A letter?”

The unexpected letter was delivered just as she was about to leave the room with her documents. Few people knew she was here.

Feeling uneasy, Ludmila took the letter and opened the envelope.

And in the first paragraph of the letter she pulled out was Emma’s unstable handwriting.

The letter began with an apology.