I spent almost the entire night wide awake.

I thought I had finally fallen asleep, but due to extreme tension, I couldn’t rest deeply.

I lost count of how many times I drifted in and out of shallow sleep, opening and closing my eyes.

Feeling only more exhausted, I gave up on sleeping, got up, and pulled open the curtains—beyond the ridge, the sun was rising.

“Morning already….”

I let out a deep sigh, roughly swept back my messy hair, and changed clothes. I went to the kitchen and dug out the coffee grounds I’d tucked away in the corner.

It was coffee given to me by the bakery lady when I went down to the village. She’d said, “Thank you for always ordering—I give this to you for when you’re tired.” At first, she handed me whole beans, but when I mentioned I had no grinder, she kindly ground them for me.

I never expected I’d end up drinking it only on the day I left.

I filled the kettle with water. Not long after, as the water began to bubble and boil, Edan’s words still echoed in my ears.

‘I’ve decided to claim you.’

I thought it was nonsense—but apparently, it wasn’t. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have told me to call off the engagement.

Drip. I poured the coffee and set the kettle down. Thud. Suddenly, I sensed someone behind me.

“Master?”

I turned to see Edan leaning against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, watching me.

“I thought you’d sleep in, but you’re up early.”

With his usual nonchalant attitude, Edan strode toward me.

He bent slightly, reached past me to inspect the coffee.

“Can I have some?”

The man who never asks permission was now deliberately inquiring. I swallowed hard and nodded.

He always approaches without warning, but today, my heart pounded harder than usual.

Suddenly, last night’s events flooded my mind.

His white shirt felt dangerously close—so close it nearly brushed me—so I subtly sidestepped away.

Edan fetched a fresh cup, poured some of my coffee into it, then lifted the steaming mug toward his lips.

Leaning his hip against the counter, he turned his body toward me in a deliberately slouched pose.

“You’re not going to pretend you don’t remember today, right?”

“Remember what?”

“What I said last night. You remember, don’t you?”

“….”

Edan grinned. Cheeky bastard, testing me.

If I pretended I didn’t know what he meant by “call off the engagement,” he’d probably cancel my trip to the capital too.

Do I look stupid? Turning crisis into opportunity—that’s the true runaway’s way of life.

“Of course I remember. You told me to go call off the engagement and come back, right?”

“Mm.”

Edan gave a slight nod, corners of his mouth lifting.

He took another sip of coffee—just then, sunlight poured through the window.

I squinted from the glare, but Edan stared at me with an indifferent gaze.

His golden hair shimmered brilliantly in the light.

He stood so perfectly still, I almost mistook him for an exquisitely crafted ball-jointed doll.

“Your lips are chapped.”

Edan’s hand reached toward me.

I knew resisting or fighting back was useless if he decided to force his way—but still, I instinctively shrank back and sidestepped away.

I had to avoid any accidental contact—who knew when he might suddenly act up again.

His previously relaxed expression, content with his coffee, now creased at the eyes.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

If you were me, wouldn’t you avoid him too?

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“You are. I’m personally checking on your lips right now.”

Edan set his cup down with a clink. When I didn’t respond, he continued.

“Does it hurt?”

“No. Not at all. I’m fine.”

Seriously. I hadn’t even realized my lips were chapped until he asked.

That wasn’t what mattered to me—but apparently, it mattered to him. He stepped forward and reached out again, gripping my chin.

“Don’t move.”

Then don’t do stuff like this. It feels like last night’s scene is repeating itself.

“Stay still.”

I tensed up, ready to smack his head again if he tried anything funny—but Edan, seeming genuinely concerned about my lips, released my chin and walked out of the kitchen.

Less than a minute later, he returned, holding a small tube of ointment.

I naturally reached out to take it—but Edan lifted it high with his long arm, just out of my grasp, then lowered it again.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

He shot me a disdainful look, squeezed a dab of transparent ointment onto his thumb,

then held my chin with his other hand and gently… rubbed his thumb over my lips.

He hunched his large frame, handling me as carefully as if I were a precious porcelain piece.

“Does this happen every time?”

After smoothing my lips a few more times, Edan pulled his hand away and asked.

I tilted my head, watching him cap the ointment.

“What do you mean?”

“You seriously don’t know? Ha, look at this.”

What? What does he mean? I have no idea.

Edan absentmindedly swept his bangs back, slowly lowered and raised his eyelids, locking eyes with me.

“Don’t tell me that was your first time too?”

Huh?

“That’s completely idiotic. What did you even like about him to get engaged?”

He muttered to himself, but loud enough for me to hear, giving me a pitying look. Then, as if something amused him, he chuckled softly.

Only then did I realize—Edan had figured out last night was my first kiss.

Damn it! How would I know whether kissing makes your lips chapped or not? I’ve never done it before!

“It wasn’t my first time. I have plenty of experience. Probably more than you, Master?”

“Like hell you do.”

Edan snorted. I genuinely bristled.

“How many times have you done it? Go ahead, tell me. I’ll beat your number.”

Ten times? A hundred? Go ahead—I’ll name a bigger number.

But Edan, annoyingly honest, replied:

“You’re my first.”

…I’m flustered. Why is he so confident? Isn’t the first-timer supposed to lose? No, wait—objectively, I should be winning here. Why do I feel like I lost? Ugh, seriously.

“Stop messing with me.”

But this guy’s selling it? How is he this good at kissing if it was his first time too?

Seeing my scowl, Edan—as if reading my thoughts again—pressed his big hand firmly onto my head.

I glared up at him. He stuck out his tongue, licked the corner of his mouth, then slowly dragged his smooth lips upward and flashed me an arrogant, triumphant smile.

“I guess I’m just naturally gifted.”

…What am I supposed to do with that.

“Let’s go.”

Ruben stood before the portal and gestured toward me.

I gripped the bag slung over my shoulder and nodded.

I’d checked multiple times, but I mentally scanned again—had I forgotten anything?

Cash for immediate portal fees. Bankbook with my carefully saved salary. One thin nightgown.

That was all that fit in my bag.

What else is there in life? If I can escape the mummy ending and start anew, this is enough.

I slowly turned around.

“Well then, Master. I’ll be back.”

“Come back safely.”

Edan truly let me go without protest.

With suspiciously gentle smile, his hand gave me a light push on the back.

The moment I stepped into the portal, Ruben grabbed my arm and guided us both out together.

We emerged onto a plaza street in the capital.

“Wow.”

At the center stood a massive circular fountain, its water jets soaring high enough to make my jaw drop.

Atop the central pillar stood a statue with arms outstretched, holding sun and moon in its palms—

symbolizing the Emperor and Empress of the Empire.

After briefly marveling at the dazzling water display, I quickly snapped back to attention and glanced around.

Having spent so long hiding in rural or quiet places, I hadn’t been somewhere this crowded in ages.

“Thank you, Sir Ruben.”

“It’s nothing.”

Ruben handed me a brown robe.

“Put this on.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not meant to scare you—but if you look like a naive girl fresh from the countryside, you might attract dangerous attention. If you keep gawking around like that, you’ll become easy prey for scammers.”

“Ah. Thank you.”

I quickly took the robe and threw it over myself.

I suddenly remembered Ivy might be looking for me. She didn’t seem to be searching publicly—but better safe than sorry.

“Take care, Sir Ruben.”

I hurried toward Jenald.

The address written on Jenald’s letter pointed to a small inn on the outskirts of the capital.

I opened the door and entered—a blonde woman, appearing to be in her late twenties, stood behind the counter.

“Excuse me.”

“Welcome. Are you alone?”

“Yes, I am.”

“One night?”

“No, actually—do you know someone staying here named Jenald Johan?”

“…Jenald?”

Judging by her tone, she knew him. I nodded.

She, freckles dusting her nose bridge, lowered her long fan-like lashes and scanned me up and down while chewing gum loudly.

“Why are you looking for Jenald?”

“Ah… well…”

As I hesitated, she pulled out a sheet of paper, scribbled something quickly with a pen, and tossed it onto the counter.

“He’ll be there. Go check that way.”

“Thank you.”

The capital was complicated.

I, who had enjoyed a leisurely, peaceful life, now truly looked like the country girl Ruben described.

To avoid strange scammers, I tightened my robe and asked around until I finally reached Jenald’s workplace.

“This is it…?”

I double-checked, triple-checked—the address she gave me against the one posted on the building wall.

Was this not his workplace?

In his letter, he mentioned working hard, and when we first met, he’d been at a log cabin construction site—so I assumed he was doing carpentry work.

“It’s a tavern….”

Did she give me the wrong address? The sun was still high in the sky.

Jenald couldn’t possibly be here.

Just as I turned to leave—

“Pahaha! How about another round?”

The door burst open, and three men reeking of strong alcohol stepped out.

They had cigars dangling from their mouths, laughing boisterously. I’d been about to hurry past them—but I stopped dead in my tracks.

“Jenald?”