Aden’s steps back to the annex and towards his room stopped when he discovered Ludmila peacefully sleeping in the darkened sunroom.

With the twilight darkness as a backdrop, a clear moon hung behind Ludmila’s back as she lay in silent sleep.

The soft moonlight pierced through the window, casting latticed shadows.

Seeing her sleeping form bathed in light amidst those latticed shadows, Aden smiled with a hint of bewilderment.

How could she be so defenseless, even with trusted servants placed around?

Aden couldn’t understand Ludmila’s behavior like this.

Her calm, glass-cold smile that didn’t tolerate mistakes sometimes made her seem like a person with obsessive tendencies.

Yet when she tried not to cross the invisible line drawn between them, she looked like a devout believer, and when she set out to accomplish something, she appeared like a martyr willing to give even her life.

But just when one got used to that image and took it for granted, she would show such vulnerabilities as if mocking herself.

It was both deflating and amusing to see the exposed weakness of a woman who said she would be even more careful because coming to the capital alone was dangerous.

How could he just nod along when she kept showing such gaps while telling him not to worry every time?

Aden slowly stepped inside.

In the silence where no sound could be heard, he approached Ludmila and scanned the documents she must have been reading until just before.

They were complicated documents related to the contract that she couldn’t let go of even after coming here.

Although he had already done more than what was contracted, Ludmila seemed to think something was lacking and clung to it even more blindly.

Even Aden, who would have said this much was enough before, couldn’t say anything in the face of her current behavior.

Unlike before when only her desperate will to live was apparent, the image she showed now was tinged with a desire to accomplish something.

While fragmented information couldn’t explain everything, he could tell that the remaining time Ludmila had spoken to him was fueling that desire.

The air was cold.

Aden exhaled softly and took off his coat to drape over Ludmila’s shoulders.

Not knowing how long she had been asleep, Aden chose to let her sleep more rather than wake her up.

Carefully moving to take a seat opposite her, Aden leaned back in the red armchair.

Crossing his legs, he quietly gazed at the sleeping Ludmila.

As if watching a sad one-act play, he took in her face without a single blink, wholly and completely.

Until the moon in the cloudless sky moved, changing the direction of the shadows, and Ludmila’s sleeping form in the halo of light was obscured by darkness.

As if previewing a scene that would someday occur.

Aden looked at Ludmila silently.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing Ludmila saw was a man sleeping peacefully. Was she still dreaming?

In her consciousness not yet fully awake, Ludmila slowly opened her eyes and simultaneously sat up.

With a rustle, something fell down.

Feeling the sudden coolness, Ludmila realized it wasn’t a dream and lowered her head.

Dong—

The moment her eyes caught sight of the man’s large coat, the clock chimed in the distance marking the hour.

Her sleepy consciousness rose to the surface.

At that moment, fragmented information assembled like pieces of a puzzle, forming a single scene.

Her reading reports here, falling asleep in the middle, and the man who found her and gave her his coat. Lastly, him not leaving and watching over her.

As her thoughts reached that point, she felt embarrassed for showing such a defenseless sleeping form, but at the same time, the sight of the man with his eyes closed in the quiet moonlight filled her vision.

In the smooth moonlight without a single shadow, Aden was sleeping as quietly as a sculpture.

Except for his rising and falling chest, his motionless form seemed like a sculpture in deep contemplation.

Had this man ever shown such a vulnerability?

He was a man with an arrogant and twisted nature. While seeming to have countless weaknesses, he had never actually shown such a side.

It was always herself who showed vulnerabilities. Today was no exception.

If it weren’t for the gap she had shown, this situation wouldn’t have occurred.

Ludmila quietly approached Aden, holding the half-fallen coat.

The man wearing only a smooth shirt, having covered her with this coat, somehow looked cold.

Coupled with the moonlight, for a moment she had the illusion that he looked somewhat lonely.

Ludmila shook her head slightly. Aden was not a lonely man. He was always surrounded by people.

He had his half-sister Beressa and his friend Benjamin.

He had his butler Salome and the Kan people who trusted and followed him, untangled from power and formalities.

He was a man standing at the pinnacle of Habertz, built on their trust.

Unlike her, he was someone who always revealed his presence in bright light.

It was the first time. Meeting someone who made her own presence feel so shabby.

Perhaps that’s why she wanted to be with this man. A lifetime of contempt and mockery. Then attention and gossip.

Among countless gazes, all Ludmila wanted was shade, a single sanctuary to hide her in darkness.

After searching for a lifetime, just as she was about to give up everything and leave.

A man who had such a sanctuary appeared before her.

It felt like God’s consideration, arranging him for her at the very end, yet also God’s mockery for only now showing such consideration, bringing a sense of humiliation and emptiness.

She didn’t want to leave. The moment she admitted this fact, Ludmila had countless thoughts.

What she needed to do to stay here.

How she could be allowed to remain here. After much contemplation, the one answer she arrived at was ‘there is no way.’ That was all.

She had to accept that cruel reality.

That’s why she cut in half the already short two months she had left.

She couldn’t stay any longer. If she stayed, she wouldn’t be able to leave.

It was the sanctuary she had searched for all her life. The longer she stayed here, the more reasons and excuses she would find for why she had to be here. That couldn’t happen.

The winter she faced in Habertz had to be just a moment in her entire life, and when looking back in the distant future, it should be nothing more than a fragment of memory recalling that such a time existed.

Ludmila quietly draped the coat she was holding over Aden’s body. At that moment, Aden’s eyelids slowly lifted.

Cool golden eyes that seemed to carry the chill of winter scanned Ludmila.

Like ripples forming on a lake at sunset, as peace settled in his slightly quivering eyes, a gentle color slowly descended.

She must not hurt this place that this man cherishes so much.

She must not show any lingering attachment. She must not leave any traces like the lingering echoes of the rainy season or a long, subtle fragrance.

“…You’ll catch a cold if you sleep here.”

“I know.”

But why? Ludmila wanted to become such an existence for this man.

Not someone so faint he might not even remember if such a woman existed, but someone who would occupy a corner of his memory for a long time.

She knew it was terribly selfish and improper thinking. But for the first time.

“Let’s go back.”

“Just a little longer.”

She felt herself desiring something, and that desire turning into passion.

“Want to sit?”

Ludmila answered his quiet question by moving her body.

The chair was sufficient for one person to sit, but narrow for two.

When Ludmila took her seat, it became not just full but cramped. Aden turned his body slightly to make room for Ludmila to sit.

Ludmila sat down in the space that finally opened up and let out a slow breath.

Aden looked at her for a moment before raising his head. The dark sky was full of stars.

It was a view so beautiful it was hard to believe it was just the sunroom of an annex attached to the mansion.

No, in fact, it was a scenery so familiar, so ordinary that it was almost boring.

In Send Plateau where darkness and night were familiar, stars were both clock and compass. The starlight seen in the capital could hardly compare.

Yet, it was still beautiful. That must be because you’re beside me, Ludmila.

Calmly accepting this fact, Aden lowered his gaze to Ludmila, who was also looking up at the sky.

At the same moment, Ludmila’s head also moved to look at him.

Red eyes clear even in the darkness.

It was a different color from that time when they shone brightly under the white plum tree. Now, they were filled not with bright light, but with a soft darkness.

It was quiet. The realization that they were alone in the annex, with even the servants all gone, sank in.

A space devoid of light or sound. As Aden’s hand brushed away the hair covering Ludmila’s cheek, a golden wave rippled.

At that moment, Aden’s body moved.

The coat covering Aden’s body fell roughly to the floor. Simultaneously, the chair creaked in protest.

The cloud that had just rolled in covered the moon. As the moonlight disappeared, pitch darkness descended.

Only the sound of mingling breaths quietly echoed in the sunroom.