Character Page

Chapter 1: A Deadly Game of Cat and Mouse

Chapter 1: A Deadly Game of Cat and Mouse

FIVE days had passed since my unfortunate performance at the royal ball.

Five days since half a year of careful “villainess” posturing—as Grace Saintsbury, steadily trying to steer Zane toward Charlotte—had come apart in one night.

“To botch my own breakup so thoroughly that he confessed to me… What am I, a magician whose only trick is disaster?”

I let out a warbling sort of cry. Started thrashing this way and that. And what did Evan, my ever-faithful personal knight, say to comfort me in my hour of despair?

“Someone’s full of energy today.”

I could not believe him.

“By the way,” he went on. “You’ve received another letter from the duke.”

I sat up just long enough to dramatically collapse again. “That is the last thing I want right now. Just…put it somewhere far away.”

“I could read it aloud for you if you’d like.”

“Correction: That is the absolute last thing I want. I beg of you. Spare me.”

Since barricading myself in my room after the ball, Zane had written to me several times. The previous letter alone had been unbearable. Pages full of earnest devotion, longing, and how every hour apart from me was agony. Which might have been flattering under literally any other circumstance, but right now, just hearing his name caused my ears to flush, my chest to tighten, and my brain to dissolve into pure noise.

Obviously, I had not replied.

Obviously, I was losing my mind.

Because every time I so much as remembered his face—earnest, intense, eyes blazing like some tragic romance hero—and the way he’d said it:

“Even so, I still love you.”

“I will never, ever let you go.”

I felt something.

More than something.

Nerves. Terror. And, worst of all, happiness.

Which was not my fault, thank you very much. If there existed a woman in this world who could stand unmoved while a man like Zane looked at her like that and whispered declarations of eternal love, I would dearly love to meet her.

Charlotte, I was certain, would be no exception.

…Except, the moment I thought of Charlotte, something snagged in my mind.

“Her reaction…”

She’d been right there when Zane confessed. And she’d looked—yes, surprised—but not just that. Shocked, yes, but also…something else. She’d covered her mouth like she couldn’t breathe.

Which made sense, sure. The guy she’d always admired had just proclaimed undying devotion to the girl most widely considered The Absolute Worst™. Shock was the minimum response; surprise was expected.

But still…something in my gut kept tapping the same spot over and over, like: No, look closer. I tried to tell myself I was imagining things. That I was just tired. But it’s not like I’d suddenly convince myself now.

I slumped deeper into my blankets, hugged my pillow tight, and sighed into it. “I’m doomed,” I whispered to no one. “What do I even do?”

Evan moved closer and lowered himself to meet me. I turned my head. He looked at me with quiet sincerity.

To say what, you ask?

“It’ll be all right.”

Handsome. He was objectively handsome. And yet somehow, with his face this close, his voice this gentle, I felt…absolutely nothing.

He went on, steady as ever, “The plan has worked spectacularly so far, has it not? The duke is completely in love with you.”

I chewed on that. Yes. Technically. That had been the goal. “I-I suppose so,” I said, though my voice wobbled like it had never believed anything less in its life.

Then a brighter voice chimed in. “That’s right, my lady,” Yanna said, sweeping calmly as if my emotional meltdown was just background noise to her cleaning. “The plan’s still on. We’ve just…adjusted the timeline a bit. Cheer up now. It’ll work out.”

In conjunction with that came Little Haniwa, my ever-patient familiar, gently patting my head with its tiny clay hand.

Aww. My heart. The sweetest creature to ever exist.

“Thank you. All of you.” My voice finally attained a level of steadiness. “You’re right. We still have time before the war breaks out.”

Even after the ball, there was still more than a year until the war. A year in which Zane and Charlotte were meant to draw closer to one another. Though at this point, I reminded myself, I had to take any knowledge I had from the novel with a pinch of salt. Saving Mariabelle had already bumped up the ball by half a year. What happened next, especially with the key meeting scene between Zane and Charlotte thrown off, was anyone’s guess.

Buoyed by two loyal attendants and one very supportive clay familiar, I pushed myself upright and slapped my cheeks. “Okay! Pull yourself together, me!”

Because for all my bluster I’d flung back at Zane about this not being over or I’m not giving up at our last meeting, I’d done a remarkable amount of the emotional equivalent of lying face-down in a puddle these past few days.

From dawn till dusk, my heart had been so full of My Lord Duke that it seemed to block all rational thought and most food, halting my scheming and disrupting my favorite pastime, eating. I had gotten nothing done. Imagine the smug little smile on his face if I’d told him this was the effect he’d had on me?

But finally, I felt a bit more functional, so I hopped off the bed—when a knock sounded at the door.

“Who is it?” I called.

A maid stepped in with a bow. “You have a visitor, milady.”

“Huh?” I blinked. I definitely did not have any visitors scheduled today. I asked the name.

And—well. I nearly tripped over my slippers.

No hesitation, no overthinking—I had Yanna force me into something presentable at top speed.

✶✶✶

FINALLY looking something like a noblewoman for the first time in days, I walked through the drawing room doors, and there he was.

Lanhart Gardner, radiant as ever, paused mid-sip of his tea and offered me a charming smile.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” I said, crossing the room.

“Not at all.” That easy, glib smile never left his lips. “Truth be told, waiting for beautiful women is something of a hobby of mine. I could have waited a while longer.”

I blinked internally. Very loudly. “Thank you, I suppose.”

He was suave, polished, and effortlessly theatrical, just as he’d been at the ball. I lowered myself onto the sofa across from him, smoothing my skirts with a grace I did not feel.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” I asked.

“That day,” he began, setting his teacup aside, “was the day you called the ‘big day.’ Your grand breakup with Duke Winslet. I came by to find out how that went, but…” His eyes skimmed my face, and his smile sharpened. “I gather it didn’t go well, did it?”

I hung my head in shame. “It went rather the opposite of well.”

He let out a soft, amused breath. “Yes, yes, I suspected as much. He wasn’t exactly subtle about his jealousy that night when he tore you from my grasp. I doubted he’d release you that easily.”

His tone irked me. So breezy, so casual, like my situation was a parlor game and not doomsday in slow motion. Then again, if someone told me that the fate of the world hinged on them breaking up with their boyfriend, I probably wouldn’t believe it either.

To Lanhart, this was all just entertainment. A game. He played for the thrill of it. And I should probably just be grateful he’d agreed to play along at all.

A soft chuckle pulled me out of my thoughts. “Don’t look so glum, my darling. Or do. I find this side of you rather charming, too.”

I didn’t dignify that with a response.

His smile only deepened as he propped his chin in one relaxed hand. “Well, regardless. Since I agreed to assist you, this failure is as much mine as it is yours. Now,” his eyes glinted, light and sharp, “I’m sure I know the answer, but you’re not planning to give up, are you?”

I shook my head.

His lips curved. The kind of smile that had probably been the undoing of more than a few women. “Then I’ll continue to lend you my aid. All you have to do is ask.”

At that, my gaze dropped to the table. “I still haven’t repaid you for the last time.”

“Do I seem like the sort of man who demands his reward before the task is even finished?” he asked, hand to his chest in mock injury. “You wound me, Lady Grace.”

Clearly, this man was not in it out of any concern for me. He was here for the spectacle—my reactions, Zane’s reactions, the delicious entertainment of it all. That said, just from that one “date” we shared, I had learned just how capable and reliable Lanhart really was, behind all the theatrics, and at this point, I needed all the help I could get.

“Then…thank you, Lanhart,” I said quietly. “It’s reassuring to have you on my side.”

“You’re very welcome. I look forward to our continued collaboration.”

Before, I would’ve laughed off the idea that Zane and Charlotte might not end up together. But now, I knew better. It was quite the opposite; the chances of those two getting together without intervention now were slim to none. Because I knew Zane Winslet. When he chose someone, he chose someone. His devotion was off the charts.

And since my actions had derailed things, it was my responsibility to fix this mess. Even if the thought of it made something small and sharp twist painfully in my chest.

I tightened my fists in my lap. Right here, right now, I recommitted. I would break things off with Zane. No matter how impossible it felt.

“So, what’s the plan?” Lanhart asked. “Shall we continue our scandalous little ‘affair’?”

I winced. I didn’t think that was going to work anymore. I tried to explain why—and of course, my tongue immediately betrayed me. “Unfortunately, I believe His Grace to be utterly, m-madly, d-d-deeply in love with me.”

My face went volcanic as I said it. My heart slammed itself against my chest. Lanhart, naturally, looked delighted to see me squirm.

“Are you trying to make me jealous?” he said jokingly.

“Please take this seriously,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, but I am.”

What on earth is that supposed to mean?

But I forced myself to ignore him. If I got sidetracked every time Lanhart was cheeky, I would never make it through a conversation with him.

The important part was this: no matter how much I begged, pleaded, reasoned, or wept, Zane was not going to let me go. At this point, that had been made abundantly clear. The “fling” with Lanhart had worked if Zane was to be believed. But while it may have made him jealous, it only tightened his hold on me all the more.

Which was why, while Yanna was wrangling my hair and shoving me into a dress earlier, I’d started building the outline of a new plan.

“Anyway. I think… I’ll go missing for a while,” I declared, trying to sound confident, only to be met with another chuckle.

“So that’s your next move. You truly never disappoint.”

By the original plan, I should’ve already freed myself from Zane and be happily in the final preparations to open my little eatery. But there was little I could do about that now; things would have to be delayed.

“Because I’m just…getting in the way at this point,” I murmured quietly.

If I just vanished, without a word or a trace, Zane would no doubt be hurt. He would be lonely. That would be the perfect opening for a girl like Charlotte to step in. To comfort him. To close the distance between them. To put the story back on track where it was supposed to go.

Charlotte… The name echoed in my mind, and something in my chest knocked. No matter how many times I looked at her, her kindness, sweetness, and the gentle light around her struck me. She was exactly what a heroine was meant to be…

Unlike me.

I couldn’t help thinking that no matter how much sway I held over Zane’s heart at the moment, such was her appeal that eventually, he would turn to her.

My gaze dropped. My hand went to my chest, pressing against the ache that always bloomed there when I allowed myself to think that.

I shook it off. That pain had never been mine to feel in the first place, so I shouldn’t pay it any mind. I drew in a breath, lifted my head, and met Lanhart’s eyes. “Here’s where you come in. Will you help me?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Naturally. Where do you plan on absconding to?”

“That’s exactly the problem—I don’t know.” I exhaled. “Because of the amnesia, I hardly know anything about this kingdom, much less where I could disappear to. I need recommendations.”

“Ah.” He tapped a finger lightly against his chin, thoughtful in a very Lanhart sort of way. “In that case, I’ll compile a shortlist of my favorite secret rendezvous locations. Choose whichever suits your purposes.”

“S-Secret rendezvous?” I echoed weakly.

“Yes. For liaisons with individuals I cannot be seen in public with.” He lifted a finger to his lips in a soft shushing gesture and smiled. The gesture was so sensual that I nearly lost my balance while sitting.

That brought to mind the rumor about him messing around with married noblewomen. I didn’t condone it—goodness, no—but given my current needs, the fact that he was experienced in disappearing neatly and discreetly was undeniably useful.

“Any conditions, requirements, or preferences to help me narrow my search?” Lanhart asked.

I thought for a moment. “Well, somewhere far from his dukedom. A place the good duke would never think to look.”

“Mm. I believe that can be arranged.”

I felt relief. If he already had places in mind, then that was one less thing to panic over. I opened my mouth only for another, slightly terrifying question to escape instead.

“Also, I would like to ask…how long does it usually take for someone to get over a love and move on?”

“Me? About five minutes.”

I stared at him. Utterly, painfully unamused.

“For everyone else,” he amended, “I’d say a good three months.”

“Three months…” I repeated, rolling the number uneasily around in my head. Three months was a long time to disappear, especially when I was supposed to be opening a restaurant. But this wasn’t the moment for priorities like “business plans” and “stability.” Hard times, hard measures.

I looked back up. “All right. Then I’ll need somewhere I can stay for three months.”

“Understood. And when would you like to leave?”

“As soon as possible, though I’ll need a bit of time to prepare…” I tapped my lip. “Four days from now?”

“Of course. I’ll have everything arranged so you can leave as early as tomorrow night.”

“T-Tomorrow? You’re the best, Lord Lanhart!”

He must have thought the earlier I vanished, the better—and honestly, I could see the logic. Against all odds, a warm wave of gratitude welled in my chest. For him, of all people. The man most likely to treat life as a glittering pastime was, at this moment, the most reliable person in mine.

Wait a second. I’m still supposed to grant him a favor after all this is said and done, aren’t I? I shook off that thought and the shiver that it brought and focused on the bigger picture. Priorities. No matter what he might ask for later, it would be a small price to pay to keep everyone alive.

“Though,” Lanhart said lightly, “I do wonder if that alone will be enough to throw him.”

“What?” I snapped out of my thoughts to look at him.

“Nothing,” he said, too casually. “Just thinking I may need to accompany you.”

“And I’m thinking I’d hate it if you did!” I blurted, horrified.

“So cold,” he sighed, hand to chest in dramatic lament. “Yet another thing I adore about you.”

Absolutely not. My appearing someplace else alone would already draw attention. If he appeared alongside me, it’d be like walking around with spotlights fixed to our heads.

Luckily, he relented. “Then I’ll be seeing you around, my lovely little ‘mistress.’”

“Yes. Thank you, Lanhart.”

✶✶✶

WE talked a little longer and ironed out a few more details before I saw him out the front door. Before he clambered into this carriage, he planted a kiss on the back of my hand. Once upon a time, that would have discombobulated me. Now, I barely blinked. That kind of behavior was just par for the course for someone like Lanhart.

I was watching his carriage rattle away when another figure appeared from the direction of the rear gardens.

“Al, it’s you,” I greeted. “You were here?”

“Maybe. What’s it to you?” he shot back, prickly as ever.

My stalker-slash-handsome-young-man-slash-teatime-regular had taken to showing up around the estate so often that his presence no longer felt intrusive. It was more like we’d accidentally adopted a feral cat who only sometimes remembered he lived outdoors.

“You still hanging around that guy?” he asked, eyes narrowed toward the road Lanhart had vanished down.

“I am,” I replied. “He’s very helpful, actually.”

“Is he now…” Al muttered, squinting harder. He didn’t seem to think very highly of Lanhart, did he? Well, I suppose the difference in their dispositions was that of night and day.

I invited Al to join me, Evan, and Yanna for tea; he accepted, and we headed inside together. At this point, he’d come over so often the staff didn’t even look twice when he walked in.

“Ah, right,” I said as we passed down the hallway. “I’m actually leaving the capital for a while. In four days. I’ll be gone for about three months. We can hang out when I’m back.”

“…Where?” he asked.

“I don’t know yet. And I’m not telling anyone when I do.”

He let out a weary sigh. “Great. More work,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

I had no idea what that meant. Maybe he was sad. Or annoyed. Or both. With Al, the emotional weather was always cloudy with a chance of tsundere.

“It’ll only be three months,” I said lightly. “The blink of an eye.”

He went bright red, shoulders hunching up like a startled cat. “H-Huh?! Who’s gonna miss you, you dumb woman?!”

I ignored him and continued walking.

In four days, I would be gone. Far from the capital. Far from this estate. Far from Zane.

Someplace he would never think to look.

✶✶✶

TWO days after my meeting with Lanhart, I found myself standing on the doorstep of Duke Winslet’s manor—nerves, cold sweat, and a deep desire to evaporate into mist all happening at once.

I know what you’re thinking. Why was I here, of all places, when I’d literally just decided to vanish from Zane’s life without a trace?

Well. It was the third Sunday of the month.

The day I always came to cook lunch with Mariabelle.

I’d agonized over whether to skip it. Truly. But then her letter had arrived—full of excitement and giddiness and “I can’t wait to see you!”—and, well…here we are.

But I wasn’t caving completely. This would be the last time. Which was why I’d come armed with stacks of recipes and step-by-step notes so she could keep cooking without me.

The door swung open, and sunlight in human form launched herself at me.

“Big Sister Grace! Oh, how I’ve missed you!” Mariabelle shouted, barreling into me and wrapping me in a hug.

“Mariabelle, hello,” I said, smiling despite my nerves.

It was hard to believe we’d been total strangers just months ago. Now, I could swear she was the little sister I’d never had. Just as adorable as one. Just as important as one.

My arms found their own way around her back when another voice interrupted us.

“Grace.”

I looked up, and there he was.

“Zane…” I breathed.

I don’t know if denial made me forget about him coming to greet me at the door, but I hadn’t. Seeing the man for the first time since the ball, and remembering everything that had transpired between us there, sent an impulse to my legs to just drop everything and run.

But also, an impulse to just swoon and fall in his arms.

He was beautiful. So unfairly, achingly beautiful that I nearly cried.

“We appreciate your time, as always,” Zane said, voice steady—far too steady—pulling me back to reality.

“O-Of course!” I replied, too brightly. “I’m happy to come, as always.”

Right. Normal. We were being normal.

If he wanted to pretend nothing had happened, I was more than happy to aggressively pretend right along with him.

I put on my best Grace-the-perfect-lady smile, and the three of us stepped into the estate together.

✶✶✶

AS we walked, Mariabelle happily chattered about this and that—today’s topic was a story about her brother, which, blessedly, spared us from the immediate awkwardness. I nodded along, grateful she existed and was currently functioning as a tiny, radiant social shield, when she stopped in front of the salon we always used.

“Actually! I have a gift for you, Big Sister!” she said, cheeks pink. “I’ll go get it. You and my brother go right ahead! I’ll be back in a flash!”

“Huh? Wait, Mariabelle? Mariabelle?!”

No use. She was already scampering down the hall.

Yup. I had absolutely jinxed it. Of course I did.

The silence that followed was thick.

Because of the aforementioned denial, I had made exactly zero plans for how to handle seeing Zane. I stood in front of the salon door. He was a few steps behind. Maybe, since I’d be disappearing in two days, I should just act normal?

But then footsteps.

I barely turned—

When arms slid around me.

“I thought I’d never see you here again,” he murmured.

His warmth pressed along my back. The faint brush of his silver hair grazed the nape of my neck. His breath pooled against my ear—soft, intimate, unguarded.

“I missed you,” he whispered. “So very much.”

My entire body went still. Even my fingertips forgot how to move. My heart beat so violently I thought it might shake me apart—so loud he had to hear it.

After a long, suspended moment, I drew a breath, just enough to attempt to pull away.

His arm tightened. Not painful. Just inescapable.

“Wh-Why are you…” The words scraped out, faint.

“I need a reason to embrace my beloved now?”

“I-I told you,” I stammered, “I don’t want anything to do with you anymore!”

“But I,” he said softly, “want everything to do with you.”

Each word was quiet, precise, and far too close. That deep, hushed voice made something inside me shiver violently. Why did he have to sound like that? Why did he have to be like this, the fairy tale prince, perfect in every way? My thoughts dissolved into static.

“Release me,” I managed to stammer from the brink.

“No,” came the immediate reply.

I froze again.

Before, he had always let me go. Always stepped back the moment I asked. But now, when I made the simplest request, he refused.

“This isn’t like you,” I said, breath trembling. “You’ve always been…kind.”

A soft exhale brushed my cheek, like a quiet laugh with no humor in it. “Some would say too kind,” he murmured. “I’ve respected your wishes.” His hold eased only enough to draw me closer to his chest, not away. “But tell me, Grace, when have you ever considered mine?”

What on not-Earth is happening?!

It was as if the moment I’d said I wanted to break up, something inside him had flipped. The gentle, considerate Zane I knew—gone. In his place stood someone who had already decided he would not let me run. Someone who had reached a limit I hadn’t known existed.

“Besides,” he continued, “it seems kindness alone is not what wins your heart. So…” his breath ghosted near my ear, “I simply have to work harder to learn what does.”

If only he knew the irony of that statement. If only he knew the truth of how he made me feel… I might have laughed. Or cried.

Now, I didn’t know much about relationships. But if one began with mutual consent…did that mean it couldn’t end unless both parties agreed, too? That didn’t quite feel right. But again, I didn’t know enough about relationships to say otherwise.

“O-Okay,” I managed. “Do that if you must, but—for now—just let go of me. It’s… It’s bad for my heart.”

“Bad for your heart?” I was nearly certain I heard him laugh. “But I thought you hated me.”

“What?” I froze.

“You hate me, don’t you, Grace?”

The way he said “hate” sent a jolt straight through me.

And suddenly, I remembered. The night of the ball. The cool wind as we stood out in the garden. My voice raised and shaking as I shouted:

“I…am no longer in love with you, Your Grace! In fact…I think I h-hate you! So let us be done with it!”

Harsh words, sure. Thrown in desperation when begging hadn’t worked. But compared to the venomous things the old Grace would say without so much as a second thought, it shouldn’t have even registered, so why was he so…?

“That was, well,” I began, reaching clumsily for an explanation, when I realized what had happened.

The word “hate” had gotten under his skin.

The always-composed Duke Winslet…actually held onto things. He sulked. Brooded. And—oh no—there was a tiny part of me swooning at the discovery that someone so perfect could have such an achingly petty, embarrassingly human side to him.

Which was NOT ALLOWED. I slapped my cheeks firmly to snap myself out of it.

I took a moment. Drew in a slow breath. Then another. And forced my voice to work again. “I… I hate you. So being near you puts my heart under a lot of strain.”

He laughed. “My, that sounds serious.”

That low, glib, knowing little chuckle told me everything.

He didn’t believe me.

Of course he didn’t.

If I truly hated him, if I truly wanted nothing to do with him, I wouldn’t have come here today. I wouldn’t have ever come back. Breaking up would have been as simple as walking away.

He knew this.

I knew this.

And it was what made this simple game of breakup so maddeningly difficult.

“I’m back! What are you two doing standing out— Kyaaah!”

Mariabelle chose that moment to stumble back into the scene. Zane’s grasp loosened, and I quickly took that opportunity to free myself. To the continued hammering of my tired, weary heart.

“Come, Grace,” Zane said gently, extending a hand.

“Oh. Yes. Wait—”

And then, before I even processed the motion, I had already placed my hand in his.

Zane caught that, smiled immediately, and my heart tripped over itself again.

Bad.

Bad, bad, bad, bad!

Mariabelle, blissfully unaware, held out a wrapped gift and told me to open it only when I got home.

“What is it? Now I’m so curious,” I said, unable to stop the laugh that bubbled out.

“It’s nothing much… Hopefully you’ll like it,” she said, cheeks rosy.

So adorable. I swore then and there I’d treasure it like a family heirloom, no matter what it turned out to be.

✶✶✶

AFTER that, we spent our Sunday the way we always did, with Mariabelle and me cooking together before sitting down to eat with Zane. I cherished every moment of that wonderful time spent together, where we were able to act as if nothing had changed… and I could act as if nothing would.

When the sun began its slow descent, I rose to leave. Zane, of course, offered to escort me home. I declined.

So naturally, he came along anyway.

The carriage ride to the Saintsbury Estate was quiet. Not quite awkward, but close. I could feel his gaze like warm fingertips against my cheek, and I spent the entire trip staring out the window like the scenery might somehow save me.

When we arrived, and I stood up to alight the carriage, an arm slid out to halt me.

“Your Grace?” I asked, brow furrowing.

“Oh, how I loathe to let you get away like this,” he murmured.

Get away? But… I’m only going home. The phrasing tugged at something inside me, but I didn’t pull on the thread.

He brushed off my confusion with a small smile. “It’s nothing. Come.” He stepped down from the carriage first and turned, offering his hand. Without thinking, without even meaning to, I placed mine in his and let him help me down.

When my feet touched the ground, the thought, “This is where we say goodbye,” struck me with a sudden pang of loneliness.

“Well, see you,” I said, knowing perfectly well what a lie that was. I tried to gently pull my hand back—

“Grace.”

—when his fingers tightened, firmer than they’d ever been, locking me in place.

At the sound of my name, I lifted my head to meet his gaze and was caught. His honey-gold eyes held an intensity I had never seen before. Warmth and longing and something far, far deeper.

“I love you,” he said quietly. “Far more than you know.”

Words refused to leave my throat.

“For you, who turned everything in my life on its head,” he went on, “I carry so much affection, so much want, it aches.”

Another confession. Out of the blue, and it stole my breath away.

I couldn’t speak. So he did.

“But, it seems,” he murmured, “that only a fraction of that has reached you.” He lifted my hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. Then smiled beautifully. Dangerously. “So I intend, from now on,” he said, “to spend however long it takes for you to understand.”

This wasn’t the cool, composed duke I knew. His voice held an impatient edge; his gaze, a sudden sharpness. My heart lurched in response to both, much to my chagrin.

“You should know that I hate losing. I have never once lost in my life. And I do not intend to start now.”

He said it quietly, yet it landed with force. It was a direct answer to the challenge I’d thrown at him the night of the ball, that I wasn’t giving up. The confidence in him was overwhelming. The certainty almost blinding. For a moment, I truly believed that if Zane Winslet decided he wanted to touch the sun, the sun itself would move closer, just to make it easier for him.

Then again, this was to be expected. He was the literal main character of the story, perfect in all the ways that mattered and then some. Someone like me, who had always lived on the losing side of life, could hardly begin to understand what it meant to be him.

I finally broke my silence, though what came out was hardly coherent. “I… Wow. I… Understood…”

“Yes. So you best prepare yourself,” he replied, without missing a beat, as if he’d already expected nonsense to be the best I could manage.

He stepped back into the carriage. The moment he was gone, I fled.

I ran all the way back to my room, shut the door behind me, and collapsed face-first onto my bed. My hand found its way to my chest—the part that ached most.

“I… Oh, Zane… You’re so unfair…”

He said he would take whatever time was necessary for me to understand. But the truth was, he could rewind all the time he had already spent on me, start over from the very beginning, and I would still fall for him all the same.

I had to get away. Even one second earlier. If I didn’t, I was certain I would break.

It was fortunate, then, that the plan for my disappearance was already in place. Today would be the last day I saw him. My only regret was Mariabelle. I had wanted to steal even a brief moment today to tell her goodbye—to explain, or at least reassure her—but Zane had never left my side.

“But… I feel sad after all,” I whispered.

The thought of losing these quiet, warm Sundays, these easy moments laughing and cooking together, tightened around my heart like a cord.

Even so, despite what I had chosen to do, I closed my eyes and uttered a quiet prayer for his happiness.

Chapter 2: The (First) Disappearance of Grace Saintsbury

Chapter 2: The (First) Disappearance of Grace Saintsbury

“IS that really all you’re bringing, milady? That’s less luggage than me.”

“I think that says more about you than it does about me, Evan. Why do you need that much?”

“For starters, I can’t sleep unless it’s my pillow.”

“And why is that the only delicate thing about you?”

I sighed. Two days since the Winslet Estate visit. Now I was slipping out before dawn, being rocked along in a carriage to my destination. Trasmina was the name of the hideaway Lanhart chose for my vanishing act. “Far from the capital” didn’t cover it. You needed carriages and magical means of teleportation known as “gates,” and even then, it was three days’ travel at minimum.

For us, five. Out of caution, we were detouring, doubling back, looping in lazy figure eights—anything to shake would-be followers.

Trasmina was small but said to be beautiful and delicious in equal measure. The perfect place for a quiet little getaway. The ocean alone was supposed to be worth the trip. Lanhart was quite taken with it, apparently.

“Are you cold, my lady? Here.”

Yanna draped a blanket over my lap. I thanked her. I’d told them they didn’t need to come, but they insisted. So here they were—Yanna, Evan, and Little Haniwa, of course. I was incredibly grateful. With them, even some unknown town would feel close enough to home.

All that remained was for Zane to find Charlotte and for the two of them to sort themselves out. Once that was done, every lingering worry would finally be crossed off. And I could get on with my quiet, leisurely life as a noblewoman.

“I hope Trasmina has something I can throw myself into,” I murmured.

With the way Zane was occupying my thoughts 24/7, I had a feeling this would be the status quo for a long time to come. Even if news were to reach me of him and Charlotte’s getting together, I doubted I’d manage anything close to genuine happiness. Which is why, instead of being idle and letting my thoughts eat me alive, I wanted to find a project I could absorb myself in (mentally). Since this was a seaside town, the prospect of developing some seafood recipes for my restaurant seemed promising.

“Something you can throw yourself into? Like…a new love?” Yanna asked.

“Love, huh?” I stared out the window. “I wonder if that’ll even be possible for me. How would I know? I’ve never done it before.”

“‘Never,’ she says,” Evan muttered. “If that’s how you want to frame it, milady. Yes, let’s go with that.”

I tore my gaze from the scenery and leveled a glare at him. Having interpreted my displeasure, Little Haniwa hopped off my shoulder, bulged out a hilariously overbuilt clay arm, and socked Evan right in his smug face.

“Ow! Hey! Milady! Control your gremlin! He punched me! Fire him!”

“Wow, you really thought I’d pick you over him for even a second. Stunning confidence. Very inspiring.”

I had been continuing my magic practice in the meantime; Little Haniwa was evolving fast. Exhibit A: that arm morph and punch. Far better suited for combat now—which, incidentally, made me feel very safe.

“Who’s a good little clay familiar? You are,” I cooed, patting his tiny head. Magic really was useful. I wanted more utility, more sparkle. “If only I had water or fire,” I mused. “Both would be amazing for cooking. But wielding multiple schools is rare, right?”

“Right,” Evan said, recovering his dignity and exactly none of his pride. “Among mages, maybe one in ten thousand.”

Mages were already only a third of the population. So one in ten thousand among them was…what, unicorn rarity?

Oh, well, I could never be so lucky.Better to just focus on honing my earth magic.

“Though,” Evan went on, “I heard the previous Saint could use several schools of magic, in addition to holy magic.”

“…What?” I snapped my head around to look at him.

In the novel, it had only ever been stated that Charlotte had become the Saint. Full stop. No mention of a previous one. No mention of anything before that point.

“There was another Saint? What was she like?”

Evan gave me a knowing little smile. “Forgot about that, too, did we? I would’ve thought someone might have filled you in by now, all things considered.”

“What?” Again, I said.

All things considered? What is that supposed to mean?

Yanna answered instead. “The previous Saint was Lady Rosalie Winslet. Former Duchess of Winslet. Zane and Mariabelle’s mother.”

My eyes went wide. Something cold and bright shot through me. The novel had never covered it. I hadn’t thought so much as to ask Zane and Mariabelle about their dead parents, either.

“She was the kindest soul,” Yanna said softly. “Born into a marquess family, married into the dukedom. But instead of basking in status, she poured herself wholly into charity and Saintly duties. The people loved her, they did.”

“I… I see.”

I believed it. Just seeing how gently Zane and Mariabelle held their memories said enough. Losing parents so young must have carved something deep into them. I could only begin to imagine the depths of their sorrow.

“Say…what exactly is a Saint?” I asked. “How does someone become one?”

“If you can use holy magic,” Yanna said simply, “you are the Saint. By definition, the Saint is someone who can use holy magic.”

“Holy magic…” I repeated, letting the words settle.

“That’s right,” Yanna nodded. “To put it in even simpler terms, a Saint is one who can cleanse Corruption. They can heal wounds, also, but light magic can also do that, so the cleansing is what sets them apart.”

So that was why Charlotte could heal Grace and cleanse Corruption in the novel. Holy magic. Saint. Matching neatly together.

I then went on to learn that Saints were so rare that entire centuries passed without one. And there had never been more than one at a time.

“Then, how is a bearer of such power chosen? Is it something people are born with?” I asked.

“No one knows for sure,” Evan replied. “Though no Saint has ever been a commoner, so people assume it’s hereditary. But take that with some salt—I only learned the basics in school.”

“Hereditary…” I murmured.

Something about that tugged at me. Charlotte was the daughter of a viscount, but only by adoption. The novel had glossed over her origin with a single line saying she was the stepchild the viscount gained through his second wife, but that already seemed to leave no room for ambiguity—no noble blood. But Evan had said to take the hereditary theory with a grain of salt, so perhaps I shall…

“Well,” I said, sounding absolutely unconvinced, “there’s nothing to gain from me worrying about it now.”

As long as Zane and Charlotte ended up together, everything else would follow. The story would right itself. The future would fall back into place.

I leaned into the window again, watching trees blur past, trying not to think about the sharp little ache under my ribs.

✶✶✶

A full week in Trasmina passed without incident.

A whole week in Lanhart’s absurdly luxurious seaside cottage—ocean in front, warm sand below, good company at hand. The view alone could scrub my soul clean. Early autumn meant no crowds, no tourists, no noisy families splashing around—just us, the sea, and air so crisp it tasted drinkable. Peace was simply…there. Built into the scenery.

Trasmina sat on the opposite end of the country from the Winslet dukedom, geographically, politically, and spiritually. Perfect for vanishing. Every time I remembered that, I found myself quietly thanking Lanhart.

“This…is inner peace,” I declared to no one in particular. I stretched out on a reclining chair, book in hand, and went boneless. The sea breeze brushed through my hair and over my face, light and cool. My eyes drifted closed.

Ah, freedom.

Half a year of acting as Grace Saintsbury, the villainess. Half a year of posturing, pretending, manipulating, planning. Of always being on. Always performing. The only time I’d gotten to breathe had been in the company of my co-conspirators.

But now, now I had hours. Days. Time to simply be. For the first time since I’d woken up as this character, I could just exist. Just be me.

“But milady,” Evan said, “you study magic from dawn to dusk and cook every meal in between. From where I’m sitting, you haven’t taken a single break.”

Eyes still closed, I mentally reviewed my schedule.

Wake with the sunrise.

Cook breakfast. Eat.

Study and practice magic until lunch.

Cook lunch. Eat.

Read at the library all afternoon—mostly world history and everything they had on Saints.

Cook dinner. Eat.

Sleep at the bedtime of a disciplined six-year-old.

Rinse. Repeat.

“I suppose I’m just not someone who can do nothing,” I said, finally opening my eyes.

“Speak for yourself. I could keep up this vacation lifestyle for another fifty years, easy.”

“Hate to burst your little vacation bubble, Evan, but you are, in fact, on duty.”

Even here, in paradise, Evan was still on my father’s (quite considerable) payroll. Which meant he was supposed to be alert, vigilant, proactive, etc. And sure, I couldn’t deny there was little to be vigilant about out here, but did he really have to make Little Haniwa duel a crab in the sand just to keep himself entertained?

“But I know what you mean,” I said. “I could live here forever.”

The townspeople were warm, the seafood borderline life-altering…

Yanna and I were making simple peasant dishes one meal, experimental seafood recipes the next, and baking with local herb-foraging in between. All in the name of coming up with some new recipes for my soon-to-be-opened restaurant.

Sure, with Grace’s personal fortune and the handsome sum I made land speculating, I could technically run the restaurant for free and feed every hungry child I wanted; the only problem was…

That wasn’t the dream, was it?

What was that place that stuck in my mind—that wonderful, warm place from a previous life that sustained itself, helping the needy not because it was charitable to do so (although it was), but because the food was so good that regular customers chose to spend money there, enough to cover the cost of every extra meal given away?

If I wanted to make that dream a reality, there was no room to coast. Not even here.

“That said, today is really quiet, huh?” I said.

“Quiet,” Evan agreed. “Suspiciously so. Yesterday, fish and wildlife were everywhere. Now it’s just this crab guy.”

We looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders, when—

“Eep!” Little Haniwa let out a sharp, squeaky noise.

We both froze. That was the first time it’d ever made any noise.

“Haniwa?” I asked, leaning in. “What’s wrong?”

“Eep-aah! Eep-aaaah! Eep!”

“…It can talk,” Evan observed.

“I have no idea how that’s happening, but it’s adorable,” I said, already melting.

We crouched down to meet the little clay doll, watching with curiosity and endearment as it bounced around, making frantic little eeps and aahs.

Aww, it’s so cute. Even when it’s acting like it’s trying to warn us of some impending, mortal danger.

Wait.

SPLASH.

Something tore from the sea. Thinking perhaps an extra-large wave had crashed onto the beach, I turned toward the sound and screamed. A giant, glistening, horrifying jellyfish rose from the water, drifting straight toward us.

“What IS THAT?!” I shrieked.

“That,” Evan said, calm as a monk in winter, “is a venomous jellyfish monster. If it stings you, first you get violent vertigo, then unimaginable pain, and then you die.”

“That is possibly the worst order of symptoms I have ever heard!”

Top five worst deaths. Easily. Possibly top three.

My entire spine converted itself to cold sweat on the spot.

Apparently, because the monster had been underwater, its magical signature had been too obscured for Evan to notice. But not for Haniwa.

“Here’s another question!” I yelled. “Why is there a monster here at all?!”

“Yeah, that’s a good one,” Evan admitted. “It is kind of weird.”

But despite my outward panic, I was actually strangely calm. Evan was here. Evan was strong. I scooped Little Haniwa up into my arms and nodded grimly at Evan.

Evan reached for his sword—then froze.

“Oh.”

“…Oh what?”

He patted his waist. Then looked at me. Then at the sand.

“Right,” he said calmly. “My sword is…over there.”

I followed his gaze down the beach, where his sword was stabbed dramatically into a sand mound like a child’s favorite stick.

“I was kinda…using it to knock down that mound of sand over there.”

“That’s it! You’re done being a knight! You’re fired!”

That’s right. He’d been using his sword as a stick to play with earlier. Meanwhile, the jellyfish was drifting toward us fast. Far faster than a jellyfish should be on land. It rose up, blotting out the sun, making noon look like night.

“E-Evan! Do something!”

“Well, it’s just one of these. I’m sure I could wrestle it down with my bare—”

An enormous spear of ice suddenly shot past us, punching through the jellyfish’s core. It toppled with a heavy, frozen thud and slid back into the sea.

I stared. Not at the monster, but at the ice.

Such speed, force, and precision. Only so many people in this world could wield ice magic like that. Which meant there was absolutely no way—

Absolutely not—

No—

My heart was already betraying me before I even turned around.

“How…”

“What a coincidence, seeing you here,” came that voice.

Zane.

He stood there in full knight’s uniform, that utterly bewitching smile tugging at his lips. He looked…delighted. Delighted at the way Evan and I had both turned into stunned, blinking goldfish before him.

Zane? Here?

In Trasmina?

In this tiny, peaceful, middle-of-nowhere seaside town that was supposed to be my perfect, untraceable hiding place?

I wanted to think that this was a dream, some hallucination cooked up by my lovesick brain. But then, a whole squad of knights crested the terrain behind him and assembled at his back.

“Ah, Duke, there you are,” one knight said, saluting.

“Yes,” Zane replied smoothly. “Have you contained the remaining threat?”

“Yes, sir. All contained. Perimeter is clear now.”

They talked among themselves while Zane issued a few orders. At last, the knights bowed and withdrew. Then, Zane turned back to me.

“I’m here on official duty,” he said, voice mild. “And you?”

My mind spun. Such coincidences did not exist in this world. Truly, there was some hard limit on the amount of bad luck one could have, and I had just shattered that limit. I hadn’t predicted this happening. Not in a million years.

“I’m here…to…uh…” I said, scrambling for the first excuse that didn’t sound like I came here to escape you and force you into romantic proximity with another woman. “…beat the heat?”

“In autumn?” he replied without missing a beat.

Yep…

I glanced over at Evan for backup, but he was gone. Apparently, now was the time he decided to trot off to retrieve his sword. Fantastic.

Zane’s expression softened, and somehow, that was worse. “Next time you disappear on a trip like this,” he said quietly, “I would at least like to be informed.”

“Sorry,” I murmured. “I must have…forgotten.”

It was painful to look at him.

Two weeks of silence.

Two weeks of him waiting for a letter, a word, anything.

We’d always kept in touch before. So if he felt abandoned, or doubted, or was just plain hurt… I understood. And it stung. But this was the path I chose, wasn’t it?

“So,” he asked, still terribly gentle, “when do you plan on returning to the capital?”

“S-Soon,” I lied.

“I see.” He nodded once. “If your return is not imminent, I have also been considering taking leave. In that case…” He met my gaze, steady and unhurried. “I may as well accompany you here. And return with you when you do.”

“Um…”

Okay.

Let’s press pause for a moment.

Really take a moment to just step outside this situation and look from the outside in for a sec.

I’d come alllllll (and I mean allllll) the way here to avoid Zane, didn’t I?

I planned to be here for three months, didn’t I?

So if he stayed with me for all that time, that would completely, utterly, devastatingly defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?!

As I stood there, frozen, Zane’s face broke into this quiet, radiant smile, and he stepped in close. “Is there a problem?” he murmured. “I’m not…intruding on a long-term getaway you had no intention of telling me about, am I?”

“D-Don’t be silly.” I flashed him an unconvincing smile, the cold sweat just rolling off my back. I felt like a kid caught with their whole arm in the cookie jar. But if these past six months had taught me anything, it was that Zane never wavered once he’d made up his mind. If he decided to stay here, he would.

He’d leave Mariabelle alone in the capital and walk away from the mountain of duties waiting to crush him the moment he returned—he’d do all of that without hesitation if it meant staying by my side.

He would see it through.

And that was the problem.

This wasn’t a place for him to idle away three months of his life for my sake. The moment he found me, the whole plan was already in shambles, so the sensible thing—the mature thing—was to just give up and go back.

“The truth is, I was already planning on returning tomorrow!” I forced cheer into my voice. “Would you join me on the trip back to the capital?”

“Of course.” He didn’t even think about it. Then, almost as an afterthought, “Ah, though—one thing, Grace.”

“Yes?”

“I don’t have lodgings for tonight.” His tone was mild, but his eyes stayed fixed on me. “I searched the town for something suitable, but it seems everything is fully booked.”

I blinked. Yes. Even someone as clueless as I could tell what he was doing. This was his roundabout way of asking if he could stay with me. And what was I supposed to say? Tell him to go sleep under a boat? While I curled up in a warm cottage with a full pantry and a fireplace?

No. Absolutely not. So I made peace with it. Today and tomorrow, we’d simply…pretend nothing had changed.

“I’m staying in a small cottage nearby,” I said. “Would you like to join me?”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Though now that I thought about it, what kind of twist of fate was this? I ghosted him for two weeks, fled the capital, disappeared off the map, and somehow the end result was…our first romantic getaway.

Was this actually happening?

Was I truly this incompetent?

Evan returned just then, sandy sword in hand. “Ah! So His Grace will be lodging with us? I’ll have you know the lady’s cooking is divine, even out here.”

“Is it now? I look forward to it then,” Zane said.

To my shock, Evan, miraculously, seemed to have correctly read the room (or read the room at all, actually) and did not speak any further. A small mercy.

“Then let’s not dawdle,” I said. “It’s nearly lunchtime.”

“Let’s.” Zane nodded, falling into step beside me without hesitation.

I tried hard not to think too deeply about the absurd chain of events that led to this. I tried even harder not to think about the fact that tomorrow, we’d be returning to the capital. Together.

Side by side.

As if I’d never left at all.

✶✶✶

AS we returned to the cottage, we ran into Yanna, who’d been doing a spot of shopping in town. The moment she saw us and Zane, her usual professional calm gave way to a look of surprise I’d never imagined on her face.

Well, of course. If you run away with all your might from someone, only to come home with that very someone trailing beside you to your “secret” hideaway…anyone would look like that.

“It was all a coincidence?” Yanna asked later, cutting vegetables beside me. “I find that hard to believe.”

“I feel the same way,” I said, cleaning a fish. “If I hadn’t seen those other knights myself, I might not have believed it either.”

I explained everything as we worked, but she didn’t seem convinced.

Then what? That this wasn’t a coincidence at all, but that Zane had found out I disappeared, hunted down where I’d gone, come all the way here, and then pretended it was a coincidence just to drag me back?

No. No way. …Right?

I laughed, a little too thinly. “When we get back to the capital, we’ll need a new hiding spot. One that’s actually airtight this time.”

I could already imagine Lanhart’s cackle when he heard about this. But for all the amusement he’d get out of it, I was certain he’d be even more motivated to help me next time.

✶✶✶

WE busied ourselves with lunch, and before long, the table was full, and everyone gathered.

“This is wonderful,” Zane said again for what felt like the umpteenth time. “You really are a remarkable cook.”

“Thank you,” I answered, trying for modest. “The ingredients here are so fresh… It’s been a nice change.”

Compliment after compliment. I could feel myself getting…itchy. Too warm. Too seen. But that wasn’t even the main reason I was so discomfited.

“Would you like some too?” Zane asked, voice soft.

“Eep-ahp! Eep-ahp!”

Asked, not to me, but to the tiny clay familiar clinging to him, nuzzling him like it couldn’t bear to be separated for even a breath.

Zane’s words during the kidnapping rescue echoed in my mind:

“A familiar doesn’t just borrow its master’s magic. It inherits part of their will. Their memories. Their heart.”

And heat shot straight to my face. Because seeing it so madly enamored with Zane… It was almost like seeing a reflection of my feelings made manifest. And no doubt Zane knew it. He didn’t push it away—he just let it cling and even played with it, doting on it.

“Still, I wonder how it started talking like that,” I said. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s adorable, but…”

“A familiar grows with its master,” Zane replied. “Or, when its master is in mortal danger, it may awaken powers it never had before. In this case, I’d assume the latter.”

“In other words,” Evan cut in, “this was all thanks to me forgetting where I put my sword.”

“Too soon, Evan Hale. Too soon…” I shot him a venomous look.

But for Little Haniwa, I felt only joy. If it meant we were becoming closer—our wills, our hearts intertwining—I was happy. I scooped up the little clay golem and vigorously petted its head. It chirped back with delighted little “eep-ahp!” cries. I had no idea what it was actually saying, but I hoped that would only be a matter of time.

“Also, this little guy was the first to react to the monster,” Evan added. “Before any of us.”

“That’s true! Haniwa, who’s an incredible little dirt golem? You are!” I cheered.

Back when I’d been kidnapped, it had crossed an enormous distance on foot to alert Zane and lead him to my rescue. Cute, dependable, and capable. I could not have asked for a better familiar.

“By the way,” Evan said. “What business brought you all the way out here, Your Grace?”

“Reports of an abundance of hydras in the nearby forest,” Zane answered. “I took a job to cull them.”

I listened closely to this part of their conversation. Again, it sounded as though Zane had simply come here on assignment. But Evan’s tone said he didn’t buy that at all.

“Hm… hydras? And you came all the way out here to deal with them personally? I suppose stranger things have happened.”

“What?” I looked at Evan.

“If it were me, hydras are the sort of job my name wouldn’t even make the shortlist for. And even if it did, I’d turn it down for being beneath me, let alone the duke.”

A tight, uneasy smile tugged at my face. Slowly, I looked at Zane. He didn’t actually fake a coincidence and come all this way just to find me, did he?

“Please. You hold me in too high esteem,” he said, easily.

Another gentle smile. Another casual deflection. And another slow, affectionate rub on Little Haniwa’s head, like it were mine.

✶✶✶

“—WHICH means tomorrow, we’ll be heading back to the capital ahead of schedule. All of us. The plan to ghost and flee from Duke Zane…has failed,” I announced solemnly.

“In quite spectacular fashion, if I might add,” Yanna said.

“That’s a shame. I rather liked this town,” Evan added.

“I did as well,” I said. “But it can’t be helped.”

That night, the four of us—Yanna, Evan, Haniwa, and I—gathered in the cottage living room to go over the new plan.

In short, we would return to the capital and immediately think of another place to disappear to. Which meant our trip, originally meant to last three months, was now being cut down to a two-week jaunt (five days traveling here, one week staying, three days back).

Two weeks I thought I’d been spending correcting the book’s plot, wasted. When I thought about how fast the story had already begun to diverge and how those two weeks were simply gone, anxiety pooled cold in my stomach.

“We shouldn’t think of it that way,” Evan said. “Once a monster showed up on the beach, we couldn’t have stayed anyway.”

“That’s… You’re right.” I nodded, a little solemn.

Monsters only appeared where Corruption was thick. Those places were few, mapped, and regularly culled by knights. Light mages also built wards to keep monsters contained within those areas. So one appearing this close to a town was alarming.

Not to mention familiar…

It suddenly occurred to me.

“Wait. Is the Corrupting…already starting?”

In the novel, the war—the very war I was trying to prevent—began with what was called the Corrupting. Across the Kingdom of Sewell and the neighboring lands, Corruption spread, monsters multiplied, crops failed, and, most critically, a vital resource known as aqua arcana began to dry up.

Aqua arcana—or arcane water—was the lifeblood of civilization here. Like electricity, it powered the countless magical tools that made daily life possible. Its increasing scarcity and the desperate struggle to control what remained sparked the war. In the original timeline, this shouldn’t have begun for some time yet. But, as with everything else…the clock seemed to be moving faster.

I’d already told Evan and Yanna about all this, so they understood immediately where my thoughts were headed.

“It’s not as though a single monster wandering into human lands has never happened before,” Yanna said. “I don’t think we need to panic just yet.”

I gave her a look that was more hope than belief. “I hope you’re right…”

“And I’ll use my connections to look into it,” Evan added. “Check monster activity; see if there’s been any uptick.” He flashed a carefree grin. “And if the numbers have gone up, I’ll just cut them back down!”

His confidence was absurd but somehow reassuring. For that, I’d forgive the whole sword-forgetting blunder this morning.

“All right then,” I said. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll have a quick breakfast and head back to the capital.”

“Very well,” Yanna said. “I’ll start packing.”

“Thanks, Yanna. You’ll help too, won’t you, Haniwa?”

“Eep!” it chirped, toddling off after her.

“So cuuute! I’m counting on you, little buddy.”

Carrying things had become something of its specialty lately, and it had been a surprisingly great help to just about everyone.

Thinking I might turn in early, with tomorrow’s schedule being likewise early, I left the living room ahead of everyone and made my way down the hall.

“Grace?”

A voice stopped me. I turned to see Zane Winslet.

In a bathrobe. Hair damp and slicked back. The loose robe was opened just enough to reveal the line of his chest—toned, defined, and warm from the bath. I immediately whipped my head away.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“N-N-N-N-Nothing, Your Grace. Nothing at all,” I squeaked. I kept my gaze fixed on a very interesting wall sconce. If I saw even one more droplet roll down that unfairly sculpted torso, I might’ve started touching up blood.

This was the first time I’d ever seen him without immaculate tailoring and that meticulous composure. He must have come to the main house to bathe. There were no bathing facilities in the guesthouse.

“Why won’t you look at me?” he pressed, voice low.

“You know exactly why,” I muttered through gritted teeth.

He gave a quiet, amused laugh. “I do enjoy seeing you flustered.”

Perhaps it bears repeating at this point, but this infuriating, smug man had been my favorite character in my past life. If there exists any otaku in the world who could witness their husbando in such a state and remain composed, I would very much like to meet them.

I took a deep, steadying breath, telling myself this was simply…an act of God. An unavoidable force of nature.

“Allow me to walk you to your room,” he said, offering his hand.

“Th-Thank you,” I managed, taking it.

The fact that the gesture had happened so naturally and seamlessly sent my heart pounding hard enough that I could feel it in my fingertips.

We started down the hallway together.

“A shame we’re leaving tomorrow,” he said. “I would’ve liked a few more days here with you.”

“Yes. A shame,” I managed.

“Next time,” he continued, “I’ll invite you to see some of the countryside in my dukedom. I know a place you’ll love.”

“I-It’s a promise.”

Not.

But for whatever reason, it felt like we were walking slower than usual—like he was deliberately lingering, drawing out each step toward my room, as if this brief walk itself had become something to savor.

We were nearly there when I suddenly stopped. Zane stopped beside me. My breath caught. Outside the tall balcony window, the sky was strewn with more stars than I had ever seen. More than I ever thought possible.

“Your Grace—look!” I gasped. “Look how many there are. It’s…beautiful.”

I’d heard the stars here were supposed to be extraordinary, that on clear nights the sky would be overflowing with them, but most of our stay had been overcast. This was the first night the sky had opened. And that I got to see it now, on the very night before we were to leave… It felt like a gift.

The moment lingered between us, quiet and bright. But Zane said nothing. Curious, I pulled my gaze from the sky and looked his way.

Zane wasn’t looking at the stars at all.

He was looking up at them, yes, but his attention was distant, pulled somewhere deep inside. The moonlight traced the line of his jaw, the steady bridge of his nose, and the gentle furrow in his brow. His profile, lit silver, was so striking it felt almost unreal.

Little by little, I found myself watching him instead of the sky. So radiant. So dazzling. For a moment, I could understand why the original Grace had coveted him so fiercely.

“I used to love stargazing,” he murmured. “When Mariabelle and I were children, our parents often took us out to see them.”

The words came quietly, almost as if they’d slipped out by accident. Just like that, an unguarded fragment of a past I had never dared to ask about.

I paused, hesitating, but that only seemed to make the silence stretch out longer. Sensing, perhaps, that he was waiting for some kind of acknowledgement from me, I gave a small hum of encouragement.

“When they died,” he went on, “and I found myself responsible for the dukedom, I lost the capacity to look at anything except what was in front of me.”

“…Right,” I murmured, the word thin but earnest.

He exhaled, just barely. “I can’t remember the last time I just…looked up.”

Something warm, soft, yet aching unfurled in my chest.

For all of his poise and perfection, there was always something hard behind his composure—an invisible weight I had never really touched before. And now, here he was, revealing the quiet pain beneath it, the closest thing he had to a vulnerability.

“I’d almost forgotten how beautiful it was,” he said.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” I replied. I gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and his golden eyes softened, narrowing just slightly.

“Thank you, Grace.”

The moment he said it, something inside me clicked back into place. Everything I had done up to now—every choice, every consequence—suddenly felt justified. Not a mistake. Not foolishness. I felt…vindicated. And in that feeling, something long-dormant stirred awake.

Make Zane happy.

That was what I had been working toward. What I had lost sight of. All this running around, all this panic, had happened because I forgot why I was trying so hard in the first place. I forgot because being loved and treasured by someone like Zane made me feel so warm, safe, and seen.

But I wasn’t going to lose sight of that again.

With that resolve steadying me, I lifted my head and smiled at him.

“Thank you, My Lord Duke.”

“For what? I very much doubt I’ve earned your thanks.”

“That’s not true at all. Today makes the second time you’ve saved my life.”

“It’s what I do,” he said simply. “I am a knight.” With that, he returned my smile and said softly, “Let’s get you back to your room. It wouldn’t do to catch a cold.”

We walked the rest of the way in companionable silence. At my door, he brushed a hand over my head, a soft good night. I echoed it, and the door closed between us.

I went straight to the bed, flopped forward, and wrapped my pillow in a full-bodied embrace.

“Those stars really were beautiful…” I whispered.

I closed my eyes, and the memory of the night sky—bright, endless, shared—unfolded against the backs of my eyelids. A warm smile spread across my face. If I could hold onto that image, I thought…

Then whenever I needed to remember my purpose—

All I’d need to do was close my eyes.

✶✶✶

LANHART doubled over, clutching his stomach, laughter spilling out of him. “Aha ha ha! Oh, what I wouldn’t give to see the look on your face the moment the duke showed up! No, what I wouldn’t give to frame it and hang it on my walls! Aha ha ha ha!”

I stared at him, expression flat. Yes, the situation was amusing. But tears-in-his-eyes, full-body-convulsion amusing? Hardly.

It was the day after we’d returned to the capital. I had come to the Gardner Estate to report the situation and, of course, to thank him. The Gardners were an influential marquessate on par with the Saintsburys, and their estate reflected it.

Despite the suddenness of my visit, I’d been escorted not to a drawing room but straight to Lanhart’s personal bedroom. Which…said quite a bit about how this household handled “unexpected female callers.” On the way there, I had run into Priscilla, Lanhart’s younger sister.

“Lady Grace! What a delightful surprise!” she’d said cheerfully. “Here to see my brother? How lovely. He’ll be thrilled.”

Her warmth hadn’t changed at all. So open, so unconcerned (to a slightly reckless degree) even while facing someone of such ill repute as I. Quite the, um, special disposition. I think I want to be friends with her.

The siblings couldn’t have been more different, but that didn’t stop them from adoring each other. Lanhart himself had told me he wanted us to get along and that Priscilla had looked up to me for years, which, naturally, made me a little nervous. She admired Grace’s imperiousness?

“Come now, don’t pout like that,” Lanhart drawled, finally catching his breath, still wearing that infuriating grin. “Anyone would’ve found it just as hilarious as I did.”

“I didn’t exactly see this coming either, you know?” I seethed.

Lanhart’s room glittered in gold and crystal. Like mine, though a shade more restrained. In any case, utterly unlike Zane’s quiet, immaculate minimalism.

“All jokes aside, I really must apologize,” I said. “To return so soon, after you went through the trouble of finding such a wonderful place for me…”

“Not at all. If you enjoyed it, then I’ve nothing to complain about.”

The cottage had been paid for three full months. The magical gate travel alone had cost a small fortune. Thinking of all that money evaporating in two weeks made my stomach twist.

A lesson, then. An expensive reminder not to fail again.

Lanhart finally composed himself, lifting his teacup for a slow, appreciative sip. “So. What’s your next move?”

“I want to find another place to disappear to,” I said without hesitation.

His amethyst eyes blinked once. Then, with exquisite dryness, “Already? Wait. Have you any idea why your plan failed in the first place?”

I mirrored his blink. “It was bad luck. Obviously.”

He let out a low, amused laugh. “Oh yes. Bad luck. I’m sure that was all it was.” He set his teacup down and crossed one elegant leg over the other, wearing a smile that said he knew something and enjoyed knowing it. “Well then, perhaps next time you should tuck yourself away deep in the mountains. No monsters, no roads, no visitors. Somewhere so remote that no one in their right mind would even consider looking.”

“The mountains…” I murmured. “True. If we went far enough in, no one would find us.”

“That’s right,” he said with a lazy, catlike grin. “I’m already looking forward to your next field report.”

Ignoring his smug look—whatever he meant by that—I considered the mountains seriously. Sure, it would be remote and likely uncomfortable, but I had lived my previous life closer to the peasantry than the nobility. As long as I had some basic food, clothing, and shelter, I could manage.

We could go somewhere isolated. Somewhere no noble would ever think to run. Evan might complain, but he was on payroll. Three months in the mountains would be his problem to swallow.

“All right then. Should I start scouting locations again?” Lanhart asked.

“No,” I said. “I think I’ll handle this one myself.”

Truthfully, I doubted he knew any more about remote mountain hideaways than I did. For this, I’d rely on Yanna and Evan.

“I see,” he said, languidly tipping his head. “Then feel free to call on me if you need anything.”

“Thank you. Truly.”

I was just about to excuse myself, eager to get home and start mapping out mountain terrain, when Lanhart suddenly stood, crossed the room, and opened a drawer of his desk.

“I wanted to give you this. A charm that grants any wish.”

In his hand was a beautiful bracelet, and before I could protest, he pressed it into mine. It was elegant. Likely expensive. Not something I could accept, considering all I had done so far was take from him.

“I can’t possibly accept this,” I said, looking up at him.

“Oh? You sure?” His smile turned sly. “It’s what every noble lady is wearing right now. Rumor says if you don’t have one, people will assume you grew up in a barn. And if there’s one thing Grace Saintsbury is not, surely, it’s provincial.”

“O-Oh. Well… When you put it like that…”

I had no real friends—no one to tell me these kinds of things. If it was just going to sit uselessly in his drawer, then yes, it was better that I wear it.

I fastened it carefully around my right wrist.

The moment I did, Lanhart brightened again, as if remembering something. “I almost forgot. I saw her the other night, you know?”

“…Saw who?”

“You know. That girl you were so curiously interested in at the opera. The, um, viscount’s daughter.”

“…Oh.”

At that, I finally clued into the fact that he was talking about Charlotte.

“It seems she’s never moved in high society before,” he continued, “but now she’s suddenly attending every gathering she can. And despite her rather modest background, both gentlemen and ladies seem quite taken with her.”

The storyline had reached the point covered in the novel, so it made sense. The heroine would begin to draw attention. With Charlotte’s looks and her effortless, gentle charm, the latter of which Grace lacked, it was only natural that she’d win people over instantly.

Lanhart himself sounded indifferent. But Zane… Zane would be different. He would fall for her the moment he saw her.

“Why are you so interested in her, anyway?” Lanhart asked, brows raised. “She hardly seems like someone who should draw even an ounce of your attention.”

I realized I’d gone silent, lost in my thoughts. “Because…that’s what I’ve been working toward,” I said quietly. “To get her and the duke together.”

That made him perk up, eyes sharpening with interest. “Oh? That’s news to me.”

True enough. He only knew I planned to end things with Zane. Not why.

He looked away, thinking for a moment, then said, “If you ask me, those two hardly suit each other. Starting with the rather glaring difference in status.”

“Charlotte is wonderful enough that status should be the first thing overlooked,” I replied. “And besides, the power of love will see them through.”

Lanhart pressed his lips together in a failing attempt not to laugh. “The power of what, now?”

He could scoff all he liked, but I knew. Their difference in status was only the first, and frankly, the smallest hurdle the power of love would help them overcome.

“I’ve never been in love myself, so I can’t say for certain,” I admitted. “But perhaps someone as…experienced as you might know?”

“I wonder,” he murmured, expression shifting. A thin, self-deprecating smile tugged at his mouth. “I’ve loved plenty. But I’ve never fallen in love.”

“What?” I said, surprised.

“It’s all just fun and games,” he said lightly. “Everyone I go out with understands that.”

He said it with the easy grace of someone who’d made peace with it, but something in me twinged. A life full of brief, glittering connections that never went deep…sounded lonely in its own way.

He must have caught the thought crossing my face, because his gaze softened, and his smile turned small and rueful. “I wouldn’t pity me. I enjoy it.”

“…I see.”

“Well,” he added with an airy shrug, “I wouldn’t mind falling in love someday. Just to see what the fuss is about. It certainly seems to have set the duke ablaze.” With another one of those dazzling smiles, he reclined back into the sofa cushions. “Maybe…I wouldn’t mind falling in love with you,” he drawled, half-joking, wholly unserious, exactly as always.

Chapter 3: The (Second) Disappearance of Grace Saintsbury

Chapter 3: The (Second) Disappearance of Grace Saintsbury

THREE days after my meeting with Lanhart, I was already tucked away in the second venue for my disappearance: a rundown mountain cabin.

“Wow. The bed is literally as hard as the floor,” Evan intoned, staring down at his “mattress”—a plank of wood with a thin sheet tossed over it.

“Please. You’re being dramatic,” I replied. “Commoners sleep like this all the time.”

Which, indeed, for me, wasn’t even a lie. This wasn’t so different from what I’d slept on in my previous life. But for a former noble-turned-elite-knight like Evan, this was almost certainly his first encounter with such rustic charm.

Yanna, meanwhile, had already begun sweeping out the dust-heavy corners. The place was decrepit, yes, but surprisingly spacious. Which meant the three of us could live here without constantly stepping on each other. Luxury, in its own way.

“But truth be told, I didn’t expect it to be quite this shabby,” I admitted.

We chose this place because it was somewhere no noble would ever think to look and because it was still close enough to the capital. The abandoned, eerie, lonely part wasn’t exactly part of the plan. That’s just how it happened to be. But it worked in our favor. In a place this forgotten, no one would imagine anyone living here at all, let alone the daughter of a marquess. For a second attempt at disappearing where failure was not an option, this was absolutely the ideal environment.

“Will you two find yourselves at home here?” I asked Evan and Yanna. “I’d ask Haniwa too, but…I think I already know the answer.”

Perhaps it was the wild air, the abundance of soil, or simply the fact that the whole place smelled of earth, but Haniwa was practically vibrating with joy. It hopped in little excited circles, as if the entire mountain was its personal paradise. Very cute.

“I’ll be fine,” Yanna said. “This isn’t so different from home.”

“I’ll manage as well,” Evan added. “I’ve slept under the stars on expeditions before.”

“Good.” I smiled. “Thank you—both of you—for coming with me again.”

Now came the part of making the most of our time here. Just like before, I intended to practice magic. This mountain was free of monsters, and its hillsides were rich with magical herbs. The thought of foraging and gathering ingredients set my heart fluttering a little.

“Here’s hoping I can disappear properly this time,” I whispered, half prayer, half determination, to the notebook in my hands.

I had filled its pages during the carriage ride here, scribbling down everything I could remember from the novel before I forgot it—every scene, every consequence, every detail. Naturally, I’d also written down the details of Grace’s near-death. I’d kept the memory pushed to the back of my mind, partly because I was determined to avoid that fate, and partly because it was so grisly I simply didn’t want to think about it.

Her almost-death had been presented as her narrative “comeuppance”—the villainess who finally paid for her cruelty. The enemy army invaded. She was slashed across the face and stabbed in the abdomen, clinging to life until Charlotte healed her at the last possible moment.

One chilling detail I remembered with vivid clarity: even at death’s door, Grace had been more concerned about the scar left on her face than the sword in her stomach. And the time she endured in that state—alive, conscious, suffering—was…unrealistic, if not grotesque. I forced myself not to dwell on how she managed it.

“If it’s as painful as it sounds,” I muttered, “I definitely do not want to go out like that.”

No matter what it took, Charlotte needed to awaken her saintly powers and heal me. I had to make that happen.

I clenched my fists, the mountain air cool and sharp in my lungs.

✶✶✶

“JUST look at that sun! I think I’ll go foraging today. Evan, will you come with me?”

“Of course, milady.”

“Great! Then, Haniwa, stay here and guard Yanna, okay?”

“Eep-ahp!”

Three days into mountain life, I had become nearly as bouncy and spirited as Little Haniwa itself.

“You know, milady,” Evan said as we stepped outside, “for a marquess’s daughter, you’ve got the grit to live out your days in the mountains if you wanted.”

“You think so?” I asked, thoroughly pleased. “I think so too.”

We wandered up the hillside. Almost immediately, I found a mushroom that smelled incredible when roasted. My heart soared. Lunch: secured.

“The air’s so fresh; nothing here costs a single coin. It’s just the best,” I sighed contentedly.

The cabin cost almost nothing. We ate what I foraged or whatever mystery meat Evan hunted or fished. It was nearly a fully self-sufficient lifestyle. Of course, I didn’t dislike the comforts of noble life, but if I was being honest, this way of living fulfilled me in a way nothing else could. There was joy in finding, gathering, and making. And the fact that I wasn’t spending money? Mwah. Chef’s kiss.

I was saving. I was being frugal. The little broke girl inside me was radiant with pride.

Thinking I could live like this forever, I spotted a cluster of greens at my feet. Perfect for a salad. I plucked them and dropped them into the basket on my back.

“I feel like something more carnivorous for dinner,” Evan said. “I’ll go kill something. Be right back.”

“Could you have phrased it any more savagely?” I sighed.

But even he seemed to be enjoying this life, always more than happy to provide Yanna and me with a little more food on the table. He reminded me to scream if I was in any danger, then headed off into the trees.

“La la la la~ ♪ Ah! There’s more over here!”

I spotted another patch of wild herbs and practically skipped toward it, bubbling with excitement. This truly was the ideal kind of slow, mountain life.

I picked up the pace.

And the earth vanished under me.

I shrieked as the ground gave way and I slid down the slope. The rain from last night must have loosened the soil, making it prone to mudslides.

Mud smeared across my clothes and face. A cold sweat broke out across my back. It felt more like I’d stumbled into a scene from a third-rate comedy manga, rather than this potentially being a matter of life and death.

A tree trunk loomed ahead. I was headed straight for it.

“W-Wait! What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?!”

Use magic, earth magic, to make a cushion! Something! I tried to force my panicking brain to produce a spell when suddenly, an arm hooked tightly around my waist.

I lifted off the ground. The world spun. And just before I would’ve hit, I was pulled cleanly out of danger.

“Oh, geez, thanks, Evan. If you hadn’t been here, I would’ve—”

But then I remembered. Evan had gone the opposite way. He couldn’t have possibly made it here in time.

Which meant…someone else was holding me.

Someone whose arms felt far too familiar.

Then, I caught a whiff of that rich scent. The one I couldn’t get enough of, and my breath caught.

“I really do need to stop underestimating you, Grace,” said a voice at my ear.

I didn’t need to look.

But I did.

Zane was smiling down at me. Softly. Fondly. Like he didn’t quite know what to do with me.

Coincidences like this didn’t happen twice. Even I had to accept it at this point.

“Are you hurt?” Zane asked as he set me back on my feet.

I couldn’t answer. Only stare at him in stunned disbelief.

“There’s mud on your face,” he murmured.

He pulled an elegant handkerchief from his breast pocket and, with no hesitation, gently wiped my cheeks. As if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. As if we’d simply run into each other along the streets of the capital.

It wasn’t until I noticed the mud smeared across his clothes that I snapped back to myself.

“Y-Your Grace, your clothes! I got you all dirty! I-I’m so sorry—”

“None of that concerns me,” he said, eyes narrowing affectionately. “The only thing that matters is you.”

My heart gave a humiliating flutter. But I balled my hands into fists and looked back up at him. “Why…are you here? In a place like this?”

“Surely, at this point,” he said softly, “you know the answer just as well as I do.” His gaze was so direct it felt like he was seeing straight through me. Then, his lips curved into a slow, devastating smile. “I’ve come to bring you back.”

“But…why?”

“Because I’m not letting you go. Not ever. I told you, didn’t I? I intend to spend however long it takes for you to understand how I feel.”

Right. He had said that during our final carriage ride home. I hadn’t realized he meant it like this.

“And first,” he continued, “I think I’ll begin by removing any assumption you may have that you can run from me.”

A heroic smile accompanied that sinister line. In other words, this had all been a ruse to Zane. A fun little game of cat-and-mouse. One he was playing to show me that I could never get away from him. One he was playing to show me that I was cherished too deeply to lose.

In the end, for all my devotion to the novels and the love I’d held for the characters in them, I’d only ever thought I understood Zane Winslet. The character. All that reading had never brought me anywhere near the truth of the man himself.

Zane was far more formidable, far more relentless, and perhaps loved me far more deeply than I had ever dared to imagine. To think those words he’d spoken the other day carried that sort of dogged meaning… The me from back then would never have even dreamed of it.

Though it did raise another question: how was Zane even finding me? Truly, at the heart of it, I simply couldn’t believe someone like him would go to such lengths—spending time, effort, and resources—just for me.

“Grace?” he said, and I snapped back from my thoughts just in time to see his face draw ever closer to mine.

Once, this would have been the moment I unraveled. But I had sworn it to myself only days ago. I wanted Zane to be happy. That was why I had been trying so hard. Why I had run. Why I had done everything I had. So I steeled my heart. No hesitation. No wavering. I would give Zane no quarter.

“This is more than a little unwanted, Your Grace,” I said evenly. “This isn’t a game for me. I honestly don’t wish to be around you for even one more second.”

Zane didn’t flinch. Instead, he asked, lightly, “Grace, how much do you think this jacket costs?”

I froze. My eyes snapped down to the mud-smudged fabric, trying frantically to estimate the price of what I’d just ruined—

“I’m joking.” His voice cut through my panicked calculations. “I only said it because I knew it’d send you into a panic.”

He smiled devilishly.

I really was dancing in the palm of his hand. But still, he had saved me. I couldn’t exactly send him off filthy and soaked, could I?

“Then allow me to thank you properly,” I said. “I’m staying in a small cabin nearby. You can change into a set of Evan’s clothes. But then, please leave.”

Zane tilted his head just slightly. “Ah. Unfortunately, no one will be coming for me for about three days.”

I narrowed my eyes.

We’d planned to stay here for months, so of course, no one was on standby to pick us up. And we’d chosen this place because it was remote. Carriages almost never passed through. Even if he sent for one right this moment, it would take days to arrive. Walk back on foot? Hardly. The distance was far beyond what anyone could cover in a day or two.

Which meant, naturally, that Zane had said all that while knowing exactly what it implied. He fully intended to stay the remaining three days…with me.

That, I couldn’t have. Three days in close quarters, in a tiny cabin where I couldn’t escape his presence for even a second? Him seeing everything I did, every unguarded moment, every habit and flaw? What kind of time would that—

“Of course…”

The thought derailed and rerouted, and suddenly, I had an idea.

A brilliant one.

And it was only possible because we were in the middle of nowhere.

I would show Zane exactly how much of a commoner I truly was. I’d treat him to the full mountain experience—every inconvenience, every bit of toil and discomfort that came with living out here. He had been born and raised in a duke’s household. If he saw how naturally I lived this stripped-down life, how comfortable I was with it, he’d surely be put off.

If the “affair” strategy hadn’t worked, and the “villainess” strategy hadn’t worked, it was because both had still kept me within the sphere of nobility. But if I stripped all that away and showed him the real difference in class and daily life…

Then maybe I had a chance.

In fact, who was to say it hadn’t already begun? Here I was, hair braided like a country girl, trousers on. Covered in mud. Maybe I’d already chipped away at his image of me. All I had to do was ham it up even more, and he’d trip over himself trying to run away from me.

“All right,” I whispered to myself, a spark of excitement flickering to life.

Over these next three days, I would show Zane that we came from completely different worlds. And that there was no way he could stand living like a penniless commoner for long.

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” I said brightly. “If we don’t wash this mud off before it cakes in, those clothes will never be the same. Let’s go.”

“Lead the way.”

We headed down the slope toward the cabin. Somewhere along the way, I remembered I’d forgotten about Evan, but… Oh, well, he’d manage.

As the cabin came into view, so did Yanna, standing outside with Little Haniwa cradled in her arms.

“Milady! You’re ba—”

Her jaw fell open. I felt a very strong sense of déjà vu. But this time, I truly couldn’t blame her.

While she was still stunned (much like I had been earlier), I asked her to fetch a change of clothes and some tubs. She jolted back to life and hurried inside.

Haniwa wriggled out of her arms and hopped into mine, squeaking an excited “Eh-pi-po!” at Zane in greeting as we moved around to the back of the cabin. Again, clearly delighted to see him more than anyone else.

Before long, Yanna returned with everything. Her yet confused gaze flitted between us. I took the changes of clothes off her hands, thanked her, and turned to Zane.

“Here,” I said, passing him a set of Evan’s clothes. “You can change into these.”

“Thank you,” he said.

And he immediately started to strip.

I slapped my hands over my face. “Change in there! In there!” I pointed blindly with one hand. “The door is over there!”

He gave a low, amused laugh. “You truly are innocent.” Still chuckling, he headed inside.

I tried—tried—to wipe the image of that perfectly toned six-pack from my mind. I failed and sank to the ground like a discarded rag.

“How… How did this happen…?”

Zane finding me here, in the literal middle of nowhere, was so far off my mental bingo card that I was starting to question everything. He was a busy man. He had duties, people to see, and a whole dukedom resting on his shoulders. And yet, instead of all that, he was out here on this wild goose chase just to find me.

Which said… far too much about the depth of his feelings.

“Hey, Haniwa… can you slap me?” I muttered, defeated.

“Ehp-ee,” it chirped.

I needed something to rouse myself. Little Haniwa hopped on my shoulder, seemingly eager to oblige. I squeezed my eyes shut and braced for impact, only to feel a soft, clumsy little hand patting my head instead.

“Haniwa…” I said, heart melting.

“Ehp-eep-oh. Ope-ee?”

I still had no idea what it was saying. But I just knew it was either consoling me or cheering me on. Either way, nothing like the wallop Evan had received.

Overcome with emotion, I scooped my little earth golem into a tight, squishy hug and shot to my feet. “Okay.” I pretended not to notice my heart still pounding in my ears, took a few deep breaths, and stepped into the cabin to change.

✶✶✶

WHEN we were done, we stepped out the back entrance and stood before two tubs filled with clean water.

Zane looked impossibly good even in Evan’s plain clothes. So much so that he seemed to float against the backdrop of the shabby shack and wooden tubs, like he’d stepped in from another world entirely.

But this wasn’t the time to be thinking about that. It was time to put my plan into motion. Silencing my conscience, I told myself it was for Zane’s own good and kicked things off.

“I’m terribly sorry, My Lord Duke,” I said sweetly, “but I’ve got my hands full with my own cleaning. And if we don’t start now, the stains will set, so might I trouble you to wash your own clothes?”

He blinked. “You…always wash your own clothes?”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation. “Well—here, at least.”

Yanna was the only servant I’d brought with me way out here. And because she was here more or less because I asked for her company, I tried not to bother her any more than I needed to. Stuff like laundry was more than fine. Not like I was ever averse to doing chores in the first place.

I picked up a small bottle filled with cloudy liquid and handed it to him. “Here, use this.”

He took it, inspecting it curiously. “What is it?”

“A cleaning liquid I made from fruit with natural antibacterial properties. I soaked it overnight, then boiled it down. Works wonders on stains.”

“Made from fruit, you say?”

“That’s right. Didn’t cost me a single coin!” I said with genuine pride. “Isn’t that just the best?”

I flashed him a smile straight from the soul. He looked momentarily taken aback, and I pumped a fist inwardly. Yes. It’s working. My brilliant plan: make him do menial chores, then dazzle him with my pedestrian, penny-pinching knowledge. It was sure to turn him off. A man like Lanhart would’ve been halfway down the mountain laughing by now. Nobles simply did not come to stark places like this. Not in their worst nightmares.

“What’s that board for?” Zane said, looking at the washboard.

“This? It’s called a washboard,” I said. “It helps scrub out stains.”

Of course he wouldn’t know. A man like Zane had probably never done his own laundry or ever even seen someone do laundry. And now here he was, standing before two tubs of water, forced to wash his own muddy clothes. His dignity would never recover!

As for me, I got right to work—scrubbing, splashing, and grunting. If I showed him how used to this I was, how good I was at this, he’d see I wasn’t lying and be utterly repulsed.

I snuck a sideways glance. Sure enough, his eyes were on me, wide open. No surprise there. How’s that for the first (and likely last) time seeing a marquess’s daughter doing her own laundry?

Yes… Yes! Go on, Zane! Look upon me, and despair! Wait, what is he— Why is he rolling up his sleeves?

“What are you doing?” I blurted, freezing mid-scrub as he began to wash his own jacket.

“Yes?” he said, glancing over. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“N-No, uh… you’re actually doing really well,” I managed.

“Ah. Then that’s great to hear,” he said easily.

I, uh.

Hm.

So…he hadn’t been staring in shock but watching to learn.

Scrub, scrub, scrub.

Scrub, scrub, scrub.

And just like that, we started to scrub together. In silence.

Paint this picture of the Duke of Winslet and a marquess’s daughter crouched side by side, sleeves rolled up, doing laundry in the middle of nowhere, and show it to anybody. They’d probably laugh you out of the room.

“I had no idea laundry was such a laborious affair,” Zane suddenly said. “I must be more grateful to our servants for all they do.”

I nearly jumped. “Oh, um, yes, quite…”

“I have you to thank for that realization, Grace,” he said earnestly. “If you hadn’t asked me to do this, I might’ve gone my whole life yet burdened with ignorance. So, thank you.”

“Y-You’re welcome…?”

This… This couldn’t actually be happening, could it? His heart wasn’t that pure, was it? Instead of feeling slighted or annoyed, he was… grateful? A sudden pit opened in my stomach.

“You really are remarkable,” he went on to say.

“I-I’m not sure what you mean…”

“Whenever I’m with you,” he continued, “you open up my narrow world just a tiny bit more.”

And that was when I realized—he wasn’t just humoring me.

He was sincerely praising me.

The cleaning continued from there. Zane broke the silence now and then to ask for tips, which I dutifully provided, and little by little, his untrained hands actually started to get the stains out.

“Eep-ooh! Ahp-eep!” Haniwa suddenly squeaked.

“Would you like to help?” Zane asked kindly.

The little golem plunged its hands straight into the wash bucket and started scrubbing enthusiastically. Unfortunately, since it was made of the very thing we were trying to get rid of, it dirtied the very spot Zane had just cleaned again.

“That’s all right,” Zane said calmly, unfazed. “I feel like this might be dangerous for you. So why don’t you just sit and watch from over there? Thank you, though.”

“Ohp-ehp. Ohp…” came the dejected little chirp.

But then, Zane used a light breeze of wind magic to dry Haniwa’s softened, muddy fingers. Why, instead of getting angry at the golem for setting him back, he was actually worried for it!

“Ehp-eep-ope! Oop-eep! Oop-eep!” it trilled, delighted this time.

“Um. Sorry about my familiar,” I mumbled sheepishly, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Don’t be,” Zane said with a small smile. “I’m happy it wants to help.”

Poof. And just like that, my face went red.

This was supposed to be the scene where Zane’s affection for me dropped, wasn’t it? So why was mine for him shooting through the roof instead?

As I should’ve known by now, this main love interest of a romance novel was as cool as a cucumber, impossibly handsome, and infuriatingly perfect in every conceivable way.

When we finished washing our clothes, Zane turned to me and asked, “Is there anything else that needs cleaning?” He was even more eager to help than before—enough to almost bring a tear to my eye.

But despite my sense of guilt at troubling him further, I reminded myself of my mission and asked him to take care of the rest of our laundry.

He did so without a single complaint, and I joined in beside him. The two of us washed in companionable silence until at last we were done and it was time to start drying.

“So you see, if you arrange the clothes on the line in this upside-down U shape, you can increase airflow and cut down drying time. The goal is to expose as much surface area to the air as possible,” I explained.

“I see. Very interesting.”

While we were still laying out the laundry, Evan returned with an enormous bear carcass in tow. It seemed we would be having bear for dinner tonight. I was thinking of a hot pot-like stew.

The first time Evan brought back some fearsome predator as his catch, I’d been shocked, too, but it’s surprising how quickly you get used to things like that. Yanna, for her part, had a plucky spirit and could gut and butcher one without so much as flinching. With the two of them by my side, I started to think I could live just about anywhere.

“Oh, there you are, milady,” Evan called as he came into view. “If you’re going to head back early, at least give me a shout! I went around the mountain five times looking for you, you know? And— Oh, the duke is here too? Greetings, Your Grace.”

“Hello,” Zane replied. “As you can see, I’m wearing your clothes. Sorry about that. But given the circumstances…”

“Don’t even sweat it. I don’t mind in the slightest if you don’t. By the way, you like bear?”

What in the world of casual conversation…? I pulled Evan aside and hissed in his ear, “What do you think you’re— Did you really have to bring the bear carcass with you?! Okay, first, I’ll apologize. Sorry for ditching you. But it was an emergency. The truth is,” I glanced around, then leaned in close to his ear, “Zane’s been chasing after me. That’s why he’s here!”

“So it’s confirmed?” Evan said offhandedly, as if it were something everyone already knew.

“Wh-What?” I blinked, stammering.

“I already thought the whole hydra thing was suspicious. Seemed like an excuse to bring you back home.”

“And you didn’t tell me?!”

“It’s not like I had any proof. Besides, it was bound to come out sooner or later if you kept vanishing like this.” He grinned. “Hey, hey, since we’ve done the ocean and now the mountains, why don’t we disappear into a nice big city next?”

With that, he laughed and headed back toward Yanna, dragging the bear carcass behind him.

I could only sigh as I walked back toward Zane, who was still dutifully hanging up the laundry even in my absence. He was just finishing the last shirt when I approached.

“All done,” he said with a smile. “What should I do next?”

“Um…”

His enthusiasm caught me off guard for a moment, but I still had the next stages of my plan to get through, so I quickly moved on.

✶✶✶

CUT to me a few hours later, bone-tired in both body and mind.

Naturally, since I was treating Zane to the full peasant experience, I had to work right alongside him, doing everything I made him do. But while I was just a dainty noblewoman, he was a knight. His stamina was bottomless. Sweeping floors, splitting firewood—he went from one task to the next without so much as pausing for breath.

“How…” I let out in despair.

I’d thought I had it all figured out.

During my six-month crash course in noble culture, it had been drilled into me on more than one occasion just how highly esteemed a duke was—how they must uphold their dignity at all times, how their pride was unshakable. As the very paragon of such lofty creatures, there was no way Zane was any less proud of his station than any of his kind.

And yet here he was, lowering himself to do all these menial chores.

And when I thought about why—because it was for my sake, because he thought the world of me and wanted to stay by my side—what else could I feel but deeply, helplessly moved?

Now we were in the cramped little kitchen of the cabin, preparing dinner together. As with everything else today, it was his first time standing in a cooking space. He looked around with open curiosity, touching and inspecting everything he saw.

“Can one really eat such…plants?” he asked, holding up an assortment of wild vegetables I’d gathered from the mountainside. He looked distinctly uneasy. No doubt this was his first encounter with such humble fare.

“One can,” I replied lightly. “You have to peel off the tough outer layer and remove the bitterness. It takes quite a bit of work to make it edible, but the flavor and texture are like nothing else. This one, for instance, releases a thick, rich substance when cooked, perfect for soups.”

I went on explaining every one of my foraged plants for who knows how long, until I suddenly noticed that Zane’s attention wasn’t on the plants anymore, but on me. His gaze was soft, almost tender, and it made me a little uneasy.

“So that really was the real you, back then,” he murmured wistfully.

“The real…what?”

“I’d always found your presence on Mount Novak that day to be something of a mystery. But now, I feel like I understand a little more.”

He smiled quietly at that and turned back to his work, peeling the plant just as I’d shown him. His knife moved quietly and calmly, his familiarity with blades serving him well. You’d never guess this was his first time.

“May I ask how you came to take such an interest in wild plants?” he asked, his hands not stopping.

“Well, I… I suppose it’s just…fun. Once you start learning things, it’s like the whole world changes before your eyes.”

“Changes? How do you mean?”

“Well, take money—you can buy whatever you want, right? You don’t really have to think much about how the world works. But once you learn a thing or two, suddenly everything looks different. You start to see purpose everywhere. This could make a great meal; that could be turned into soap. Everything has value. And finding that value, making the most of what’s around you…that’s a really wonderful kind of fun, don’t you think?”

My thoughts just tumbled out as they were. Baring my broke-girl soul in front of someone who’d lived his whole life surrounded by wealth and abundance was bound to sound like complete gobbledygook.

Zane nodded along, but I was fairly sure he didn’t understand a word of it.

“Also, I just…sometimes get this squirmy feeling in my stomach whenever I order something expensive…”

At that, something seemed to click for him at last.

“Ah,” he said. “So that’s why whenever we eat out, you get that hesitant look, browsing the menu for ages before settling on the cheapest thing there.”

I winced. That… I thought I had been doing a good job of hiding it, but apparently not. Again, who thought I could pretend to be a heartless, greedy villainess?

“I like living in places like this, where I can make do with what I have. In fact, I’d love to settle down in the countryside someday. Flashy, showy places just aren’t for me.” I went on, almost without thinking, “Three dresses are more than enough for me. And tea’s so expensive. I’d rather keep steeping the same leaves until there isn’t a trace of flavor left.”

Zane just kept listening.

Even as I spoke, I could hear how pitiful it all sounded. But there was no point trying to dress it up. Because this was “me.”

For Zane and me, who came from (literally) different worlds, finding common ground should’ve been impossible. Someone like Charlotte would’ve suited him far better; they could match each other in just about everything.

I finally fell silent, and Zane didn’t say anything either. He just kept quietly working the plants with the knife in his hand. He must’ve been put off.

Perfect. That meant the plan was working. I even pumped an imaginary fist in my head. Even if he tried to get along with me for a while, the sheer difference in where we came from was bound to show itself at the first possible opportunity.

Success. But my heart ached.

Finally, he set down the knife. Here it came—his admission that the woman I truly was wasn’t the one he’d thought.

“Thank you for trusting me with all that. I’m happy you decided to share the real you with me.”

I blinked. “You’re…not put off by it?”

“How could I be? You see the world in ways I could never dream of. I feel like it could only inspire me to become a better version of myself.”

Shocked, I turned fully to look at him. There wasn’t a trace of deceit in his profile. Not that I’d ever believed Zane capable of lying about something like this in the first place.

“B-But we value such different things,” I stammered. “It’s not possible! A relationship between us could never—”

“There’s no such thing as two people who see the world the exact same way,” he said softly. “That’s what being together means, isn’t it? Learning, accepting, and finding beauty in the differences. And, if I’m going to be honest, if it’s with you, I don’t think there’s anything we couldn’t understand or overcome.”

Something in my chest tightened.

Why was Zane always so painfully sincere? So achingly kind? Why did someone like him have to like me this much? I was certain that for the rest of my life, I’d never hear words like those from anyone again.

“However,” Zane said suddenly, “I would like to be invited next time.”

“I-I’m sorry?”

“Like earlier,” he continued, “if danger were to find you again, I don’t know what I would do if I weren’t there to help. But if I were at your side, I could at least do everything in my power to protect you.”

Protect me… If there’s a girl out there who could be earnestly told something like that and not be moved, I’d very much like to meet her. My cheeks flushed—they definitely reddened—especially when the next thing out of Zane’s mouth was:

“Oh, how I wish you’d reserve that face for me, and for me alone.”

Way to mortify me even more…

“All done. What would you like me to do next?” he asked.

“Huh? Um, that’s—that’s enough! I’ll take it from here! Thank you, Your Grace. You can go rest in there.” I pointed toward the common area where Evan and Yanna were waiting. There was no point anymore. My plan had failed.

But instead of heading for the door, Zane pulled up a chair and sat down in the corner. “Can I stay here and watch you?”

“Y-You can do as you wish.”

“You know I always do,” he said, smiling.

That infuriating smile… I’d never be a match for him as long as I lived.

✶✶✶

AFTERWARD, Zane kept volunteering to help, even though I’d long stopped asking him to. I, on the other hand, did my best to avoid being alone with him and spoke as curtly as I could whenever we crossed paths.

“Just look at the duke. You can tell from both his words and actions how much he cares for Lady Grace.”

“Yes. I’m honestly surprised at how well he’s putting up with all this.”

Evan and Yanna didn’t fail to comment or praise him, always loud enough for me to hear. As if I didn’t already know. I knew better than anyone, and that was exactly why my chest hurt so much.

“Ehp-eep-oh! Ahp-ehp-ehp, Oop-ehp-eep-eep!” Haniwa squeaked.

Zane chuckled. “I do wonder what you’re trying so desperately to tell me.”

Little Haniwa looked absolutely delighted that Zane was going to be staying with us, refusing to leave him for even a second.

✶✶✶

THREE days passed in a blink, and at last, a convoy from the duke’s estate arrived to take Zane home. I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking it was finally over, when Zane suddenly took my hand.

“Now, let’s go home, shall we?”

“What? But I’m still going to—”

“Stay here? Then I’ll come by again in a few days to see how you’re getting on.”

“What are we waiting for then? Let’s get going.”

Having seen just how serious Zane could get on more than one occasion by now, I knew that was no joke. There was no telling if he’d actually make a habit of coming all the way out here as long as I stayed. Now that he’d found me, the jig was up. I might as well call it quits.

He seemed to have known in advance that Evan and Yanna would be with me, as he’d arranged a separate carriage for them to return home, while he and I boarded another—just the two of us.

Rocking gently on our way back to the capital, I sat face-to-face with a smugly smiling Zane, his chin resting lazily on one hand. As I stared at him, the one question that had been bothering me all this time finally slipped out.

“How did you know? About all of this?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said lightly. “The power of love, probably.”

A dazzling smile punctuated that glib reply. Great. So he had no intention of telling me. Fine. I’d just take that to mean I shouldn’t underestimate a duke’s intelligence network.

“I’m thinking about lunch,” he said. “Is there anything in particular you’d like?”

“No. And that’s all right. I’m not hungry,” I replied coolly, doing my best to keep some distance and wishing more than anything to get out of this situation as soon as possible.

Zane only smiled. “Such coldness. I’m hurt.”

“It doesn’t look that way to me,” I shot back.

No matter how coldly I treated him, no matter how clearly I tried to make him understand I wanted to end things, nothing I did ever seemed to faze him. Even when he’d caught me in the middle of an affair with another man, he hadn’t uttered a single word of reproach. If he truly loved me, wouldn’t that have been the one thing to make him angrier than anything else?

As I tilted my head, still trying to puzzle out the enigma before me, his gaze suddenly dropped to my wrist.

“That bracelet. Where did you get it?” he asked, his tone a touch sharper than usual, or so I thought.

“What?” I asked in surprise; it was the first time he’d ever remarked on an accessory of mine. “Um, it was a gift from Lanhart.”

The words felt awkward leaving my mouth, but I seized the moment anyway. If this could make him hate me, then so much the better.

As the bracelet was delicate and finely crafted, I’d taken it off during my time in the cabin, afraid I might damage or soil it. I’d only put it back on after changing into a proper dress for the return trip. By this point, I was desperate enough to clutch at any straw that might help me.

“And did he tell you what wearing that bracelet signifies?” he asked.

“He said it was some kind of charm that could grant wishes, or something like that.”

“May I see it up close?”

“S-Sure?”

I hadn’t thought him the type to care about jewelry designs, but I obliged, gingerly extending my right arm. The moment his fingers brushed the bracelet, it froze, then shattered into a thousand glittering fragments.

I flinched, stunned, and looked up at him. Zane was smiling brightly.

“That bracelet,” he said, “was one of a matching pair worn by lovers, meant to symbolize that they’ll always be together. Quite popular among the ladies lately.”

“O-Oh,” was all I managed to say.

That wasn’t what I’d been told at all. And in that instant, I realized—Lanhart had set me up. Whether he’d done it to help me sell the illusion of an affair or simply because he thought it would be amusing, I couldn’t say. Either way, I wished he’d at least warn me before pulling something like that.

The atmosphere in the carriage turned as cold as the shattered bracelet scattered across the floor. All I could do was stare at the countless tiny fragments, my mind drifting off in self-defense—thinking absurdly, how much did that even cost?—just to avoid confronting the reality of what had just happened.

“If it was the design you liked, I’ll send for another.”

“I… You know what? I think I’m… I think I’m good…”

“Is that so?” Zane murmured, voice low and unhurried.

He reached out, taking the arm that still hung awkwardly in midair, and pulled it toward him, bringing me closer in the process. The intensity in his golden eyes left me rooted in place, unable to look away.

“Please don’t ever wear a gift from another man again,” he said quietly. “I find it…deeply unpleasant.”

“I-I won’t…” I stammered.

Breaking up was the plan, so I should’ve met that command with defiance. But something about his aura made resistance impossible. I only nodded, helplessly obedient. If I’d been unsure what had upset Zane before, now I was completely lost.

“And I would like to know,” he continued smoothly, “what wish did you make on your little ‘charm’?”

I wished you would break up with me, was the answer, but that was one confession you couldn’t torture from me in the moment.

“I-I don’t remember…” I stammered instead.

Oh, how I wished this carriage ride would just end already. Fighting back the sting in my eyes, I tore my gaze away from him and fixed it on the blur of scenery passing outside.

✶✶✶

THE day after my forced return to the capital, I took Evan with me to a bustling café in the city. It was the kind of place frequented by people from all walks of life, not just the nobility. Yanna had promised it served delicious food at a bargain, making it exactly the sort of shop I liked. Stepping inside for the first time, I found it already packed to the brim with customers.

“So?” Evan asked. “Why are we holding a meeting here, of all places?”

“With the way Zane’s sniffed out my hiding spot not once but twice, something strange is definitely afoot. I’m starting to think we might have a leak.”

“Ah, I see. That does make sense.”

“Exactly. That’s why I wanted to talk somewhere we don’t usually go.”

Of course, I didn’t doubt Yanna or Evan’s loyalty, nor did I want to suspect the estate’s servants. This was purely a precaution. Unlike a luxury café, the noise and crowd here made it the perfect place for a discreet conversation.

Evan nodded, approving of my logic, then promptly ordered the most expensive tea and cake set on the menu, as if it were his due.

“I’m planning to disappear again tomorrow,” I said. “This time without a destination.”

“You want to disappear tomorrow?” Evan gasped. “That’s rather sudden.”

“That’s right. Sudden is the name of the game. If I move before Zane can even prepare, he won’t have time to track me down. And if even I don’t know where I’m headed, how could he possibly follow?”

As I vowed this would be the last time I’d have to vanish, I cut a piece of strawberry cake, lifted it with my fork, and was just about to take a bite when a young man squeezing past behind me bumped into my chair, sending the forkful of cake tumbling straight down onto my dress.

I immediately pulled out my purse to look for a handkerchief, only for a beautiful green one to be thrust right up against my face.

“Are you all right? I’m so sorry about that. Please, use this.”

“Th-Thank you,” I mumbled, taking it from him before glancing up.

I froze, momentarily taken aback by how handsome he was—black hair, dark eyes, about Evan’s age. In the brief moment I looked at him, several women nearby had also turned their heads to stare. Judging by his clothes and bearing, I would’ve pegged him as a lower-ranking noble or a wealthy commoner. But as I quickly came to my senses and tried to refuse, thinking I couldn’t possibly stain a stranger’s handkerchief, he simply shook his head and pressed it gently back into my hands.

“It’s yours now. If you don’t want to use it, you can just throw it away. Good day.”

He gave me a dazzling smile, said his piece, and vanished back into the crowd.

Left holding his handkerchief, I turned to Evan with a look that all but asked, What am I supposed to do with this?

“Just take it,” he said. “It’s only a handkerchief. Men tend to put on a bit of airs when a woman catches our eye.”

“If…you say so.”

“If something like that happens, just accept the goodwill for what it is, I say. Otherwise, you’d be making light of their gesture, wouldn’t you?”

Sometimes, Evan said the darndest things. But then again, he always knew more about noble etiquette than I did for some reason, so I decided to take his advice.

“That said, he was quite the handsome young man, wasn’t he?” I remarked.

“Eh, he was all right, I suppose. I’m handsomer, though.”

I gave him a flat, unamused look.

Feeling a sort of quiet despair at living in a world so unfairly overrun with men like Zane, Lanhart, and Evan, I finished cleaning my dress and turned my attention back to my cake.

✶✶✶

THE next morning at dawn, I left the estate alone and boarded the first carriage I came across. Evan followed at a distance in another, careful not to draw attention.

As the saying goes, the third time’s the charm. And this time, I was determined to make it.

I let out a long breath. After spending the better part of the day hopping from one carriage to another, I’d finally ended up somewhere completely unfamiliar. Perfect. If even I didn’t know where I was, there was no way Zane could.

Eager to rest my weary bones after the long journey, I ducked into a café at random. Inside, the place was bustling. Bright and spotless, all done up in white. I slipped into the only open table I could find.

“What? 1,200 mia for a single cup of black tea?”

It seemed I’d accidentally waltzed into a place for the well-to-do. As I’d already sat down, I ordered a cup of the absurdly expensive black tea and waited, gazing out the window at the scenery outside.

“Excuse me. Is this seat taken?”

“Oh! Uh, no,” I answered reflexively, still gazing out the window. “Please, go ahead and—”

An alarm bell rang in my head.

“Thank you,” the voice said again.

I froze before I even turned. That beautiful voice… It can’t be…

And yet, as the man casually took the seat across from me, my worst fear was confirmed. How he’d found me again, I had no idea. It defied every bit of logic I had left. All I knew was that he was here and that, at this rate, things were truly about to go downhill.

“My Lord Duke, I’m serious. Won’t you please just break up with—”

“Grace.” He shushed me with nothing more than my name. “My feelings for you will never change. Not for as long as I live. You could run to the ends of the earth, and I’d still be right behind you. So you may as well give up.”

So calm. So composed. The very picture of perfection. I had no idea how I’d ever thought I could outmaneuver him.

I fell silent, and Zane gave the most devastating kind of smile.

“Grace,” he said softly, “I will never, ever break up with you.”

✶✶✶

“AHA HA HA HA! I can’t—my stomach—oh, I think I’m as much in love with the duke as I am with you now! Aha ha ha ha!”

The day after my third (attempted) disappearance, I visited the Gardner Estate again and recounted everything to Lanhart, who, true to form, was doubled over in absolute stitches.

Yesterday, I’d given up on resisting Zane and joined him for dinner, stayed the night at a hotel (in separate rooms), and returned to the capital this morning.

Well… I tried resisting. But when he hit me with this, you’ll see why I caved almost instantly:

“I don’t want dinner or your hotel. I’ll just go back to the capital, so please—just leave me be.”

“Is that so? What a shame. Canceling now would mean the food goes to waste, and I’d still have to pay in full. But that’s nothing you need to worry about.”

This was one game of cat-and-mouse with mortal stakes I no longer felt capable of winning. Honestly, it hardly seemed fair. Zane had to be able to see the future or something.

After returning home and collapsing onto my bed, I’d received a message from Lanhart asking for an update, so here I was. He was clutching his stomach the entire way through the retelling of my story. Zane’s reaction to the bracelet had exceeded even his wildest expectations; he looked positively delighted.

“Oh, that was a good laugh. So? What’s next for little old Grace?”

“I’m giving up on the disappearing act. It’s just been a waste of money.”

All that coin spent on travel and lodgings only for Zane to find me within a day every time was beyond pointless. Besides, I had my cafeteria project to worry about. It was time to change tactics.

Lanhart wiped the tears from his eyes and let out a long breath. “True enough. It’s obvious something like that won’t scare the duke off anymore. But I’ve got to ask—what is it about you that’s got him in such a chokehold?”

At that, I grimaced. “You’re asking me? If only I knew.”

“Then again,” he mused, “maybe that’s the wrong question. Love’s rarely a matter of logic, after all. Once someone decides, ‘This is the one for me,’ it’s over. You fall right into an inescapable pit. Terrifying, really.” He laughed, clearly unbothered by the thought, leaned back in his chair, and gave me a roguish grin. “Any plans tomorrow? If not, how about I take you out?”

“I was thinking I should take care of a few more preparations for my cafeteria. Worst case, it needs to be able to run smoothly even if I’m away for a while.”

“A what-a-teria?”

Lanhart blinked, his long lashes fluttering in confusion as he looked to me for clarification. I could’ve sworn I’d explained it to him before, but apparently not. So I gave him the quick rundown, to which he responded with an appreciative hum.

“Grace, Grace, Grace… You have a knack for defying expectations, don’t you? I think I’ve figured out the answer to my earlier question. You’re nothing like other ladies.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” I shot back.

“The highest kind,” he said with a grin. “So, about those preparations? Mind if I tag along for a look?”

“Sure? But I doubt it’s anything that would interest you.”

Also, wasn’t Lanhart supposed to be heir to his father’s marquessate? I asked about his duties and workload, and he assured me he had everything well in hand. Given how effortlessly he managed to make an appearance at every social event imaginable, I had no trouble believing it. He seemed the resourceful, capable type.

“Speaking of social functions,” I said, “any news about Charlotte? Have you seen her around lately?”

“Ah, yes, the lovely Miss Charlotte Clive? I have. More than once, in fact.”

He went on to say that Charlotte’s natural brightness and straightforward charm had made her a fixture in high society in no time. If I remembered correctly, she had strong backing—people who supported her despite her common background—which explained how she’d managed to rise through the ranks so quickly.

“That reminds me,” Lanhart added casually. “I even saw her talking with the good duke once.”

“What?” No words could have grabbed my attention faster.

Zane and Charlotte…had already met? Of all the things I’d expected to hear today, that was not one of them. My heart started to race. Because…how? Nothing in Zane’s behavior had hinted at anything of the sort.

“I believe it was…the night you left for the mountains,” Lanhart said. “At a gathering hosted by an earl. I only stopped by to make an appearance, but I saw them there.”

My body went cold. The pounding in my chest grew almost painful. It was only when I felt my nails digging into my palms that I realized I’d been clenching my fists, white-knuckled.

Forcing myself to steady my voice, I asked, “H-How did they get on?”

“Not sure, honestly,” Lanhart said. “I only caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye. The duke speaking to another lady alone is a rare sight, you know. That’s probably why it stood out.”

Then maybe there was some hidden force at work—something pulling events back toward their original course, no matter what I did.

But even so, Zane had chased me all the way to the mountains…and to some nameless little town besides. Did that mean his feelings for me hadn’t changed after meeting Charlotte? I’d always assumed their encounter would naturally lead to something, some kind of shift between them, so the fact that it hadn’t… I found myself quickly filling with anxiety.

“What do I do…? At this rate…”

“At this rate, you’re doomed to fail, unless something changes.” Lanhart gave my panic no quarter. He crossed his long legs again and continued, “You’re kind. Too kind, really. You have trouble being cruel to others. And human people such as you and I…we’re not exactly built to fake our feelings—especially affection.”

He paused, then went on, “The duke hasn’t given up on you because you’ve given him no reason to. It’s obvious you still like him. That’s why he won’t let go. Also, I’d suggest avoiding making that face of yours when you’re around him.”

“Face? What face?” I froze, suddenly hyper-aware of my expression.

Lanhart gave an exaggerated sigh, though his smile betrayed his amusement. “Ah, so you really don’t know. What a pair, the two of you.”

I had no idea what he meant by that, but I was still reeling from the fact that he so pointedly called me out in the first half of that statement; I couldn’t even bring myself to ask.

Yes, it was true. I didn’t hate Zane. I probably never could. But something had to change.

I stared down at the floor, my hands clasped tightly in my lap. Then, suddenly, Lanhart stood. With long, effortless strides, he crossed the room and sat beside me, closer than comfort allowed.

Before I could react, his arm slid around my waist in a smooth, practiced motion, as if to say, Don’t run now. I went rigid as a board.

“Say,” he murmured, voice dropping low, “I’ve got a good idea. One that’ll make the duke finally give up on you.”

“What?” I squeaked.

“Fall in love with me, truly, and the good duke will have no choice but to step back. He loves you too much to do otherwise.”

I drew in a sharp breath.

“After all,” Lanhart went on, “nothing makes a heart give up faster than watching the one it loves fall for someone else.”

Lanhart…was right. If I could wound Zane this way, the story might finally return to its original course.

“Rather than faking an affair—something so half-hearted—I’d say this is a far better option, wouldn’t you agree? Now then, Grace…tell me, do you hate me?”

He tilted my chin upward with a finger, forcing my gaze to meet his. For an instant, I was caught in the depths of his beautiful amethyst eyes. Then, realizing just how close we were, I startled and jerked my head away.

“Aha, how unfair,” he said with a soft laugh. “That reaction, paired with that face.”

“I don’t… I don’t hate you,” I said, my gaze still fixed on the floor.

“Good. That means you can learn to love me.”

I couldn’t have said it with the same certainty he did, but he wasn’t wrong. I didn’t hate him. In fact, I liked Lanhart. He’d always been kind and was there when I needed help.

But that was a friendly kind of fondness. Or so I told myself.

“If you’ve no other bright ideas,” he went on lightly, “why not try mine? If you ended up liking me, I certainly wouldn’t complain.”

“You…have a point,” I admitted reluctantly.

“Don’t I always?” His tone turned almost silken. “And really, what faster way to end things than by doing something utterly unlike the current you?”

He punctuated those last three words with a honeyed smile, his fingers brushing gently across my cheek.

Chapter 4: Necessary Distance

Chapter 4: Necessary Distance

I let out what felt like my umpteenth sigh of the day. Curiously, Evan, standing nearby, took in a deep breath for what seemed like the exact same number of times.

“What are you doing?” I asked. Some sort of breathing exercise? I wondered.

“I’ve been feeling unlucky lately, so I thought I’d breathe in some of the happiness you keep letting out.”

“That might be the most unhinged thing you’ve said so far,” I retorted, aghast.

Well, mock aghast. There was just something about the man, Evan Hale. Always managing to make my troubles feel small, even when I didn’t want him to. Maybe he was the reason why I hadn’t sunk completely yet.

“So I guess I should ask,” he went on. “What is weighing on your mind to have you sighing like that?”

“If only I knew the answer to that, Evan. If only I knew…” I murmured, letting the words trail off.

I thought about Zane.

I thought about Charlotte.

I thought about how Zane might be thinking about Charlotte and whether they’d spoken again since that night they met.

“Just being able to be by your side—that is my greatest happiness.”

Whenever I recalled lines like that from the novel or remembered how tenderly the two leads were written, something in my chest twisted painfully when it shouldn’t have. I should be happy, shouldn’t I? Things were finally taking their natural course.

Little Haniwa, as if sensing my inner turmoil, wrapped its short clay arms around one of mine in a worried hug. “Oop-ehp-oop. Ehp-eep-ope. Ahp-ee-ahp-ee?”

“You’re the cutest thing in the world, Haniwa. I love you,” I cooed.

“Oop-eep!”

I rubbed its head, and it responded by nuzzling its cheek against me. My magic had been improving lately, and as a result, Haniwa seemed to be growing more expressive than ever. I still couldn’t decipher exactly what it was trying to say, but I recognized a few familiar patterns.

“Ehp-eep-ope” was its favorite phrase, followed by “oop-ehp-oop” and, of course, its ever-enthusiastic “oop-eep!”

It seemed to understand every word I said, so naturally, I wanted to understand its words too. Hopefully, someday, we’d be able to have a proper conversation.

Yanna stepped into the room just then, carrying a rather large bouquet. “My lady. You’ve received more flowers. And more letters.”

“Th-Thank you.”

My eyes dropped to the pair of envelopes in her hands. Probably from Lanhart. Ever since I’d visited his estate that day, gifts and letters from him had been arriving nonstop.

I’d opened one earlier out of curiosity, only to be met with lines so sweet they made me blush and maybe even squeal in embarrassment.

Zane had been sending his fair share of letters as well, but I hadn’t opened a single one. If I did, the guilt alone would be enough to crush me on the spot and ferry me straight into the next life.

Because I hadn’t run off again, Zane hadn’t made any bold moves either. He was a man with an entire dukedom to manage, after all. It made sense that he wouldn’t add more trouble to his plate than necessary.

“Have you begun your little dalliance with Lord Lanhart?” Evan asked.

“No.” I shook my head. “We’re still just friends.”

“I’m not sure friends usually send each other this many flowers or gifts, but all right,” he said with a shrug.

Especially the flowers… I winced inwardly. Some of the blossoms he’d tucked into those bouquets carried rather…heated meanings, or so I’d heard. I hadn’t dared look them up myself.

As a matter of fact, I had rejected Lanhart’s offer.

There was no assurance I could ever come to love him, and I couldn’t ask him to step so deeply into my mess. What he’d offered—to be my lover—was a different level of involvement than what he’d done so far. So much work, so many hours… It would be a sacrifice I had no right to demand. Not when I had nothing to give him back.

The course of action I’d decided on was to let everything breathe for a little bit. Give Zane and Charlotte some time; see where their first meeting might lead, while I stayed here, anxious and restless. But honestly, what else could I do?

Even in the novel, Zane and Charlotte’s bond had taken time, with Charlotte slowly coaxing the wounded Zane out of his shell. And in this version, where Zane had no wound to coax out at all, it made sense their closeness would take even longer to form. With Zane making no moves, there was no reason for me to make any either. Their meeting alone was already a major divergence. I would wait and see where that led.

But while Zane wasn’t moving an inch… Lanhart was doing all that and then some.

“I see. That’s a shame. But you should know, I’m the kind of man who wants what he can’t have even more,” he’d told me when I turned him down.

At first, I’d assumed he was offering to help simply because he enjoyed my reactions and the sheer comedy of the situation. But the more I thought about the way he’d pulled me out of trouble the first time we met, then asked me out the next time, weird as it was, it really did seem like he had a thing for my face. Well, Grace’s face, but still.

“Also, my lady, you have a letter from Lady Mariabelle as well,” Yanna added.

“Ugh…” I groaned, half-awkward, half-guilty.

The truth was, Mariabelle’s sweet little letters had been arriving steadily, and she was the one person in this whole mess I absolutely couldn’t bring myself to ignore. We’d always written to each other about once a month, but ever since I stopped visiting her house, the letters had started coming far more often.

Zane, for his part, had only told Mariabelle I was “busy,” so I couldn’t visit like before. He’d said nothing about my trying to break things off with him.

It was really the kind of thing for me to explain not in a letter, but in person, so instead, I’d been replying with the safest, most harmless topics I could manage, carefully avoiding any mention of Zane, but I could only keep that up for so long.

I opened the cute pink envelope and read her cheerful letter—pages of the dishes she’d been trying lately, updates on how Zane was doing, and sweet lines about how much she missed me and wanted to see me soon. By the end, it felt like my heart had been pinned under a stone block.

One line in particular didn’t help: she mentioned Zane seemed even busier these days. Which was, at least in part, my fault…

“This is so hard,” I murmured, folding over my desk and burying my face in my arms. Having to put distance between myself and the people I loved, deliberately treating them coldly and withholding every bit of warmth, was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do.

Why, oh, why did I have to be reborn as Grace? I lamented. Cursed the gods, rather. And I was sure this wasn’t the first time, either.

But then again… It was only through this life as Grace that I’d met the very people I claimed to love so much, so maybe I didn’t have the right to complain.

“No. That’s it. No more whining.” I gave my cheeks a firm clap.

I knew how easily I sank into my thoughts whenever I sat still for too long, so I pushed myself upright. Enough brooding. Time to start thinking up a new plan.

✶✶✶

THE next day, the gang and I headed to Myriel to see, of course, my restaurant. It was almost ready to open now. From the outside, it looked exactly like the modest, everyday little eatery I’d always wanted it to be.

Since I was keeping my role as the owner and founder under wraps, hiring staff hadn’t been a problem. Today, I was mostly helping train them—in disguise—for the quickly approaching opening day. At this rate, we could be ready as soon as next month.

Buoyed by that thought, I was happily prepping in the kitchen when Lanhart’s face peeked around the doorway.

“Well, how about that,” he said, watching my hands move. “You really can cook.”

Oh, did I forget to mention? By “the gang,” I meant Lanhart as well. All day, he’d been drifting from station to station, observing everything with keen interest, looking for all the world like he was genuinely enjoying himself. A man of his stature probably didn’t often get the chance to wander around a humble eatery meant for the masses, much less slip behind the scenes to see how one came together.

“I wouldn’t lie about something like that,” I replied offhandedly.

“Yes, well, can you blame me for taking the idea that any noblewoman, let alone Grace Saintsbury, can cook with just a pinch of salt?”

“Touché.”

Lanhart sidled up to me, his arm already drifting toward my waist, only for little Haniwa to swoop in and smack it away.

“Ahp-ehp! Ahp-ehp! Ehp-eep-ope-ope!” it squeaked angrily.

“Ow,” Lanhart winced. “It really doesn’t like me, does it?”

I giggled, then turned to my tiny earth golem and cooed, “Thank you, Haniwa.”

Today, on their first time meeting, Little Haniwa had taken an instant dislike to Lanhart. It played the part of a tiny bouncer, swatting away every attempt at physical contact, just like it had now. It had never reacted even remotely like this when Zane touched me. I couldn’t help wondering what Little Haniwa’s internal criteria were.

Just then, the door chime rang, announcing a potential customer. I turned and spotted a familiar face. “Oh, Al. Welcome. Long time no see.”

“Uh-huh,” he grunted, as unfriendly as ever.

I’d missed him and all his standoffish charm. I watched him lumber inside, claim the seat closest to me, and drop into it with a heavy thump.

Evan and Yanna greeted him with a casual little “Hey.” His habit of drifting in and out of places like a phantom was something we’d all grown used to by now.

Al launched straight into saying he’d been incredibly busy these last few weeks, right around the time I kept vanishing—and that it had been a total downer. For some reason, he glared at me the entire time he complained, as if any of that had been my fault. Completely unreasonable, if you asked me.

Meanwhile, Lanhart, meeting Al for the first time, shot him an appraising look. “You know this child?” he asked me.

“Yes. He’s a fan of mine,” I replied.

“He’s a stalker of milady’s,” Evan said at the exact same moment.

“Wrong, you idiots, I swear—!” Al snapped, clicking his tongue in irritation. “Unbelievable. Someone of my standing shouldn’t have to deal with this nonsense. For starters, it’s you two who…” He trailed off into a disgruntled mutter.

For all his arrogance and those barely audible complaints, I just couldn’t take that cute, boyish face of his seriously. All I could do was look at him with the same indulgent “oh, you” affection one gives a wayward cat.

“To have admirers this young,” Lanhart mused. “Truly, Grace, you are the belle of the ball.”

“Were you even listening?!” Al snapped back. “I just said that wasn’t the case.” He turned to me, scowling. “Who is this guy, anyway?”

“Grace’s next fling in all matters of love and pleasure. Nice to meet you,” Lanhart replied smoothly.

“He’s not,” I cut in immediately.

Al narrowed his eyes at Lanhart, then gave a noncommittal hum and propped his chin in his hand. “This guy, huh? You really have no taste in men. At some point, you’re going to have to think about where your life is heading.”

“Wha—?!”

Delivered in that unexpectedly serious tone, it hit harder than I wanted to admit. I blinked, startled.

Seeing my reaction, Al let out a sharp snort. “Oh, man. I feel better already.” Then he just stood up, pushed his chair in, and walked out.

That was odd. Almost like he’d stopped by solely to settle some vague, unspoken grudge. I had no idea what that had been about.

I took a moment to process what had just happened, pulled myself back together, and went about my work for a while longer. When I was nearly finished and about ready to head out, Lanhart stepped away from where he’d been quietly watching and caught the hem of my clothes.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I’d like to eat something made by your hand. I’ll pay whatever it’s worth, so…what do you say?”

“Of course,” I replied. “I’d love to. And I wouldn’t dream of charging you! I’m still a bit lean on ingredients, though, so whatever I make will have to be pretty simple. Is that all right?”

“Yes. Anything’s fine by me.”

Really? Anything? I hadn’t expected that answer from him. But I pushed my surprise aside and got to work. A simple pasta dish might do.

Since this was a special occasion, I wanted to make something with a touch of novelty that he’d never be able to taste anywhere but here. So I decided to season it with a bit of Japanese flavor from my old life. Thankfully, after plenty of trial-and-error tinkering with the ingredients in this world, I already knew a few decent analogues.

I flitted around the kitchen for a while, and finally, the dish was done. I set it down in front of Lanhart, nerves jangling, then took the seat across from him.

“Thank you,” he said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll dig in.”

“B-By all means!” I stammered.

He chuckled. “Nervous, aren’t you?”

Then he lifted his fork. Even something as simple as Lanhart sitting down to a meal carried a certain…sensuality. I swallowed hard, watching him quietly, waiting for that first verdict.

His eyes widened just a touch. “Color me surprised. This is delicious.”

“I-Is it really?”

“Really. I’ve never tasted anything like it. But I like it.”

The faint surprise in his expression told me he wasn’t saying that out of politeness.

“Great.” I let out a breath I’d been holding. “Great! Thank you! I’m so happy to hear that.”

If this dish could impress someone with a palate as refined as Lanhart Gardner’s, then maybe the rest of the populace would enjoy it too. And honestly, being complimented so frankly for my cooking always sent my heart soaring. I couldn’t help but grin.

I was still basking in that relief when Lanhart set his fork down and simply…looked at me.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Just now…that smile of yours,” he said quietly. “It caught me off guard. I hardly ever see that side of you when you’re with me.”

“I…what?”

My heart kicked up at the compliment. I wasn’t even sure why. It wasn’t the first time he’d called me cute or pretty or tried to make a move, but somehow, this time, it felt different.

Then I thought back to how every time Lanhart was with me, it was when I was drowning in guilt over the fake affair or wallowing in some fresh failure. Of course, he’d never seen me smile. All he ever got was the gloomy, downtrodden version of me.

For a moment, I almost felt sorry for him. But more than that… What I felt was gratitude.

I watched as Lanhart finished his meal, down to the very last bits, then thanked me, along with another compliment on how delicious it had been.

“Expect to see me around again when you open,” he added.

“Right. Thank you,” I murmured, still a little dazed.

When I’d first met Lanhart, I’d been overwhelmed by the sheer opulence he carried—a noble of the bluest blood—and I’d written him off as someone out of reach. A creature of a different world.

But seeing him now, talking to him, getting to know him bit by bit… I’d learned that wasn’t true at all. He was easy to talk to. Kind where it mattered. Childish when it counted. And he didn’t turn his nose up at places or food like this, which was so different from the version of him I had built up in my head at the start.

“Ah, right, before I forget,” he went on. “I’ll be making the rounds at various social functions starting tomorrow. I’ll be sure to inquire about our little secret.”

“O-Oh! Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

He meant Charlotte, obviously. I’d been dying to know how she was getting on, but the thought of facing her directly terrified me a little. So his offer was honestly a lifesaver.

Though that did bring another question to mind.

“Why…do you go out of your way to help me so much?” I asked. “I haven’t done anything for you in return.”

In all the time we’d known each other, he’d never asked me for a single favor. Not one. And with how busy he already was, the guilt was starting to pile up.

He let out a quiet “ah,” as if the answer were the simplest thing in the world. “Because I…like you, I suppose. That…duality of yours. The one between the terror you pretend to be and the sweetheart you actually are. It’s ridiculous. And I like it. Ah, suppose you’d usually call that a ‘gap,’ wouldn’t you?”

“Wha—?”

“At first, I just thought you were pretty, and that was the whole of it. But that day at the opera, when you were sitting there alone, crying your eyes out, something changed, and I went to you.”

So it hadn’t just been chance… That first day out with Zane at the opera, when Lanhart came over to me.

“I like you, Grace. That purity of yours, the scatterbrained charm, the way you keep trying even when you’re at your limit. It makes my heart do annoying things.” He waved a hand carelessly. “Not that any of this matters. Obviously, it’s just me trying to seduce you a little harder. Please pretend I didn’t say a word.”

“And besides,” he added, leaning in with that maddening, irrepressible smile, “you’re fun. Too fun. I can’t help myself.”

Realizing he hadn’t just been amused by me—that he genuinely liked me—made heat slowly creep up my cheeks. How was I not supposed to think about it?

Still, he had said romance was a game to him. I tried not to let the flutter in my chest get any ideas.

“And now you cook like this on top of everything?” He leaned back with a helpless sigh. “The gap’s getting out of hand.”

His dazzling grin hit me square in the heart again, like he had no idea what it did to me. Or worse, like he did know.

✶✶✶

“WOW, look at all these letters. Someone’s popular,” Evan said.

“Aren’t you usually supposed to say something like that with a touch more emotion?” I quipped.

There he and I were, gazing up at Mount Correspondence. The way he flatly delivered that line hinted at some mild displeasure. But what could I do? The social season was in full swing, and invitations had been flooding in day after day.

Even with Grace being as willful as she’d been, there was never any shortage of people eager to cozy up to her, which only happened because she was the marquess’s only child. And she’d enjoyed the attention, too. She made frequent appearances, taking partner after partner, sometimes more than one at a time. But the absence of even a single real friend told the truth behind it all: every one of those relationships had been paper-thin.

“Soirée, soirée, ball…” Yanna murmured as she helped me sort through the avalanche of letters.

“Ahp-eep! Ope-oop-ope!” Little Haniwa chimed in, helping out, being the most impossibly diligent earth familiar in existence.

Watching Yanna now, it was almost funny to remember that I’d originally hired her as a paid actor to endure my staged bouts of fake harassment, all to maintain my villainess persona. Somewhere along the way, she’d become a lady’s maid I could hardly imagine living without. The same went for Little Haniwa, needless to say, who held my undying affection, always and forever.

I hadn’t shown my face in public for a while, so I supposed it was time to do what a noblewoman was expected to do and attend at least one of these gatherings.

“Here, my lady,” Yanna said once they’d finished sorting. “These are the invitations, and these are the personal letters.”

“Thanks, Yanna,” I said, giving her a smile.

I looked at her two categories. Out of that entire mountain of correspondence, only two were truly private: one from my father, away in the countryside of our marquessate, and one from Lanhart.

“Now that I think about it,” Evan murmured, leaning over my shoulder, “you haven’t gotten a single letter from the duke in a while, have you?”

I breathed in sharply.

“Finally, a bit of luck, eh?” he went on. “You ignored him for so long, I was starting to wonder if he’d ever take the hint.”

“…Right.”

It was what I wanted—what I’d orchestrated myself. Yet his words still slid between my ribs like a blade.

Evan was absolutely right. When had I last received anything from Zane? Yes, I’d been ignoring his letters, but for the man who’d chased me into the deep mountains, surely something as trivial as being left on read wouldn’t have slowed him down.

Maybe it’s because he’s met Charlotte.

My heart sank again, heavy as lead. And yet, I couldn’t deny the quiet curl of relief in my chest.

Yesterday, while I was spacing out on an errand, a carriage had nearly run me over.

“If I hadn’t been there, you’d be dead right now.”

Evan had yanked me out of the way in an instant, but in that split second, I’d felt death brush right past me. And the fear that I might someday meet the same end as the Grace in the novel clamped down hard.

Now, though… knowing I might actually escape that fate, I couldn’t help the rush of relief that followed.

“Evan, don’t you dare leave my side. Please.”

“Yes, milady. I’ll protect you with my own life if I must.”

“I should feel reassured hearing that, shouldn’t I?

I clutched Evan’s hand like a lifeline, and he squeezed back, giving me that bright, dashing smile of his. The fact that it didn’t ease my nerves in the slightest only made my anxiety spike all the more.

Then, cutting straight through the mood in the room, came a sudden knock at the door. I told them to enter, and another maid stepped in, clutching a freshly delivered letter. The way it all seemed terribly urgent made my stomach drop even before I opened it. I skimmed the contents, felt my chest sink further, and my fears clicked into place.

“You’re kidding…” I breathed.

The supplier I’d arranged to buy ingredients from for my restaurant’s signature dessert had written to say they could no longer honor our agreement. And with my grand opening only days away, at that.

The dessert itself was a kind of sherbet. Nothing like it existed in this world, so I’d planned to market it as a novelty, the dish my restaurant would be known for. I’d poured so much work into it: creating the recipe, refining it, running trials, finally discovering that a rare variety of orange had exactly the flavor I needed. I’d placed a large order.

And now they were canceling on me?

This was all so sudden. A familiar prickle broke out on my back.

“I have to go see them myself. Yanna, can you get us ready to leave?”

“At once, milady.”

The letter offered no explanation. If I wanted answers, I’d have to hear them directly from the supplier. Once we’d prepared, the three of us set out from the estate.

✶✶✶

A few hours later, we found ourselves crammed into a bustling café in the city. The place was packed to the rafters, and we barely squeezed into the last open table. Not that the crowd mattered with everything else weighing on my mind.

“What do we do now?” I muttered, feeling thoroughly rejected. “They refused us outright.”

“Well, this is trouble,” Evan said.

I let out a weary groan. “Is my only option now to go to Father?”

I’d wanted to handle everything about the restaurant on my own, but at this point, maybe I didn’t have a choice. The last time I met the supplier, they’d been perfectly hospitable, even eager to do business. But this time, for reasons I couldn’t begin to guess, they wouldn’t so much as let us through the door. Finding a different supplier wouldn’t be easy, and even if it were, I didn’t have the time.

I slumped forward onto the table.

“Wait. Are you the…” came a new, but not entirely unfamiliar, voice.

I looked up to see the dark-haired, dark-eyed young man I’d met here last time, who’d handed me his handkerchief. He took in the sight of me sprawled over the table in utter defeat and gave me a small, apologetic smile.

I straightened up at once. “You! Thank you so much for the other day.”

“Not at all,” he said with an amiable shake of his head. “You’re very welcome.”

His gaze drifted from the four-person table we were sitting at to the three of us occupying it. “Is that seat open? Would you mind sharing the table? This place is full right now.”

“Oh!” I replied immediately. “No, nobody’s sitting here. Please be our guest!”

“Thank you very much!” he said, pulling out the chair next to me and sitting.

Without missing a beat, he waved down a server and asked for a cup of their cheapest black tea. When he glanced at my cup and realized we’d chosen the same thing, he gave a sheepish little smile.

“Their black tea is absurdly good for how cheap it is, isn’t it?” he said.

“I know, right?” I said. “And their fresh fruitcake…” I gave a pointed glance at my plate. “Ridiculously good.”

“Oh!” His face lit up. “Funny you should say that. I actually know the guy who grows the fruits this café uses. He’s a friend of mine.”

“Seriously? That’s so cool. Wait—an orchard?”

He nodded, a touch proud. “Mm. Just outside the capital. Their family’s been running it for generations.”

My mind was already going there. But surely luck like that didn’t exist in this world…did it?

“Um, just out of curiosity, might that orchard by chance…”

✶✶✶

AN hour later, we walked out of the café. Toward my savior, I had my head bowed low.

“Th-Thank you so very much! You have no idea how much you just helped me!”

“Not at all. I’m just glad I happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

I could hardly believe my luck. The orchard that his friend’s family owned grew the exact orange I needed. They only sold to clients who came with a referral, so he’d promised to put in a word for me right away. It was such a perfectly timed miracle that I simply accepted it without question.

The negotiations went quickly and smoothly, and the problem I’d been agonizing over all day… vanished just like that.

“I’d like to thank you somehow, if possible,” I said.

“No need. Considering my friend owes me one now, I’d say we’re all square.”

The smiley young gentleman introduced himself as Isaac. When I asked for his family name, he brushed it off with an easy laugh, saying a lady like me didn’t need to trouble herself remembering the name of a low-ranking family like his.

When I told him my name, he was a bit taken aback. He’d heard of Grace Saintsbury, of course, but never imagined someone like that would be sitting in a café like this. He’d honestly thought I was a doppelganger.

My disappointment at not being able to thank him properly must have shown, because a moment later, his face brightened. “Oh, but there is something.”

“Yes?” I lit up as well.

“When your restaurant opens, I’d love to stop by for a spot of lunch.”

“Of course! Although…would you mind keeping my involvement a secret? It’s not exactly something I want made public.”

“All right. If that’s what you wish,” he said, smiling just as brightly as before.

Isaac seemed like such a genuinely good person. If I ever run into him again, I’m treating him to a full course—everything on the menu, on the house.

“Oh, right! Your handkerchief!” I blurted, suddenly remembering. “I washed it and kept it safe at home. Next time we meet, I’ll be sure to return it to you.”

Isaac’s eyes widened for a heartbeat, his smile flickering out in surprise before settling back into place, this time softer, almost fondly.

“You really are a wondrous human being, aren’t you?” he said gently.

“Pardon?”

“Which is why,” his smile deepened, “you’re giving me so much trouble.”

I barely had time to register his words before everything lurched sideways. His hand lifted to my cheek—caressed it—and he leaned in.

Somewhere at the edge of my awareness, Evan said, almost casually, “Oh, hey, it’s the duke.”

My head whipped in that direction on instinct.

And at the exact same moment, something soft brushed against my cheek.

Realizing it was Isaac’s lips, I jerked back so fast.

“I-I’m so sorry! That was my fault for turning like that, wasn’t it?!” I yelped.

“No, that was my fault. I lost my head.”

“B-Bit of column A, bit of column B, then?!”

Oh, dear god, what in the romantic comedy clichés is this? I turn my head for one second, and his lips end up on my cheek? Shock, embarrassment, and an apology crashed together in my head, and for some reason, it felt like I was forgetting something crucial…

A tug on my arms from behind.

I was being pulled.

I looked up and back and saw, “My Lord Duke…”

Of all the timing in the world, it had to be now. Running into Zane here, of all places. I stared at him. He stared at me. I opened my mouth to speak.

But another hand slid around my head and guided me forward, pressing me straight into him. In an instant, I was pulled flush against his chest, locked in a point-blank embrace, his hand cradling me as if shielding me from something only he could see.

I mean.

After not seeing me (technically his lover) for the first time in ages, only to find me getting kissed on the cheek by some stranger? I supposed I could forgive that reaction.

Shame flickered through me, tangled with a strange, fragile thread of hope that this might finally nudge things toward the breakup I’d been aiming for. But above everything else was the crushing awkwardness. My brain short-circuited on the spot.

Which was why it took me a second too long to register the second soft touch against my cheek—this time, unmistakably, Zane’s lips.

“Long time no see, Grace,” he whispered, a smile blooming across his face.

I couldn’t get a single word out. My heartbeat was too loud, my mind too stunned—did he just kiss me? All I could do was stare as he let me go just enough to slide his hands to my waist.

“So?” he asked lightly. “Who’s this? And what business do you have with him?”

“That there is Lord Isaac,” Evan answered for me. “And if I’m not mistaken, their business just now was his lips touching her cheek.”

Thank you, Evan, for shining a spotlight on the exact part that absolutely didn’t need to be spotlighted. But again, my fault for having lost my voice in this incredibly outrageous moment.

“I see,” Zane just said softly.

At last, my voice crawled back to me. “I was in a bit of a pinch, and he was helping me out of it…”

“That’s right,” Isaac said. “It is an honor to meet you, Duke Winslet.”

Zane inclined his head politely. “You have my thanks for assisting Grace, but I’ll ask that you keep your distance from my lover. Closer than necessary doesn’t sit well with me.”

He said “Lover” without a hint of hesitation. Still smiling. Still pleasant. And somehow that smile felt heavier on my shoulders than any scolding ever could. Isaac held it with a steady smile of his own, neither cowed nor foolish.

“Is that so?” Isaac replied. “Then I owe you an apology, good sir. If you’ll excuse me.” He bowed and turned to leave.

“Th-Thank you again!” I called after him, my voice jumping out of me before I could stop it.

I felt bad that this was how things were ending. He’d just saved my rear, and now we were parting on this weird, stilted note. But then I heard a low murmur at my ear, more to himself than to anyone else.

“That magic… Where have I…?”

Zane’s eyes were locked on Isaac’s retreating back. When Isaac finally disappeared around the corner, those eyes turned to me instead. The polite smile he’d been wearing earlier was gone. What replaced it made every instinct in me want to take a step back.

He didn’t give me the chance.

He turned to Evan and Yanna. “I’ll be borrowing your mistress for a moment. Come fetch her in five minutes.”

“Sure thing,” Evan replied without missing a beat.

“W-Wait!” I yelped.

Too late. I couldn’t even begin to question whose orders Evan thought he was obeying. Zane’s authority had steamrolled any hope of that. Evan gave me a jaunty little wave, grinning as if this were all very amusing. Yanna, bless her, gave me a look full of apology before quickly following him.

I was yanked by the arm out of the café and into a narrow, empty alleyway. Before I could get my bearings, Zane pressed me back against the wall. The brick behind me was cold. His glare, leveled straight at me, was colder. Goosebumps shot up my arms.

“You really can’t keep your hands to yourself, can you?” he said roughly.

He touched my cheek with one gloved finger, brushing the exact spot Isaac’s lips had grazed. The feather-light, almost tender pressure, in contrast to his brusque tone and actions, only made me flinch harder.

“Let me explain,” I whispered. “That just now wasn’t intentional.”

“Yes, I’m sure it never is with you,” he said, slicing clean through my explanation. That faintly annoyed look of his paired with the sharp, almost mocking curl of his mouth told me everything. He was livid. Even his breath felt tense against my skin.

“It sits in the pit of my stomach,” he went on. “The way you’re so painfully oblivious when men look at you with interest. It infuriates me.”

“…”

“It’s like you don’t understand men at all.”

And the moment he said that, something settled in my gut.

Whether Isaac had meant anything by approaching me, I honestly couldn’t tell. But Zane was right about one thing: I didn’t understand. I’d never had any real experience with love in this life or in the last. I’d never let any man get close enough for it. So here I was, completely out of my depth, flailing in waters I’d never learned to swim in.

So, no. I didn’t understand Isaac.

Nor Zane, either.

“But at this point,” he said, “I have to ask—why do you keep trying to keep your distance from me? What exactly are you so afraid of?”

At that, my heart lurched. The steady beat turned clumsy and frantic. He was starting to suspect something. Starting to see that my attempts to break up with him weren’t rooted in dislike, or boredom, or some petty whim. There was something else twisting me up inside that I couldn’t let him know.

But how could I say it? Tell him that unless he ended up with Charlotte, I was doomed? Of course, I couldn’t.

“B-Because surely there is someone better for you out there, Your Grace!” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

“I believe I already told you that isn’t your decision to make,” he replied, his voice a shade too even. “And tell me, do you truly take me for the sort of man whose heart wavers that easily?”

The moment the words left me, I remembered—too late—the last time I’d said something similar. The way it had ignited something fierce in him then. Now, those honey-gold eyes glared down at me with a cold, simmering anger that made my throat tighten.

He leaned in without warning and pressed another kiss to my cheek. Harder this time, the sound of it echoing through the quiet alley.

“What are you— What do you think you’re doing?!” I squeaked.

“Wiping away whatever trace that man might’ve left on your soul.”

“W-Wait. Don’t—!”

“I’m done waiting.”

He didn’t stop. He kept kissing me. Light, insistent pecks marched from my cheek down the line of my jaw toward my neck, each one loud on purpose, like he wanted the sound itself to brand me. Heat flooded my face. Shame, mortification—whatever it was, it made me want to scream.

I tried to twist away, tried to protest, but his hands caught mine and held them against the wall, pinning me. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. This was the first time he’d ever touched me like this when I was telling him not to, and yes, fear flared sharply in my chest.

But louder than that, louder than the unease coiling tight inside me, was the wild, impossible pounding of my heart. The traitorous warmth surging through me. The thought I didn’t want, the one I couldn’t admit.

“I don’t believe for a second you understand how I feel,” Zane hissed.

“Your Grace, please…”

“For every ounce of love I hold for you, you vex me in equal measure.”

A terrifying intensity swirled in his eyes. From it alone, the raw magnitude of his feelings pressed against me. And if he hated me just as fiercely in the other direction… I couldn’t blame him.

From where he stood, I was a woman who’d told him I loved him first. Who’d begged him to pretend to be my lover. Then, when he finally felt something real for me, I shoved him out into the cold with no warning, insisting I wanted nothing to do with him.

But then, a shift. A crack opened in that anger, but what slipped through wasn’t rage.

“You find me that undeserving of your trust?” he asked, his voice small and wounded like a hurt puppy.

The sound of it squeezed my chest tight. For him to feel this…and still not hate me. For him to sense, somehow, that something was wrong, and yet never force me to explain, never corner me with questions… He was so impossibly, painfully kind, I felt tears threaten me.

“N-No, My Lord Duke! That’s not it. That’s not—!”

“Grace.”

My name left him in a low murmur as his face moved closer, so close it stole the breath from my lungs. Our noses nearly brushed. His breath washed over my skin, dizzying, like something enchanted tugging me under. This was it. We were going to kiss. Our lips were right there. My eyes fluttered shut, bracing for the inevitable…but it never came.

Gingerly, I opened my eyes. His were the first thing I saw, honey-gold and impossibly close. His nose hovered just a breath from mine, not a hair closer, not a hair farther. He’d stopped himself right there, holding that tiny sliver of distance like it was deliberate. Like he wanted me to feel every bit of what had almost happened.

In the reflection of his eyes, I saw myself, wide-eyed, trembling, on the verge of tears.

“Is it done?” he asked quietly. “Is he gone?”

Then a slow, satisfied smile unfurled across his face, and my cheeks went up in flames. He didn’t need my answer. He could feel how rattled I was, how it was his closeness undoing me and not Isaac’s. He’d known the moment he asked.

In truth, his question was one that had missed the mark from the start. I’d never felt anything from Isaac. That first brush had been an accident. And even if there had been something there, Zane’s first kiss had scrubbed it out of existence. Ever since that peck, my mind had been a useless, frantic mess of him and nothing else.

So I just nodded. Anything to end this. Anything to get even a sliver of distance back.

Zane’s lips curled almost maliciously. “Your knight in shining armor should be arriving any moment now.”

He let me go. My knees nearly buckled, but I locked them in place at the last second. Zane, meanwhile, looked perfectly immaculate and composed, filling me with that impotent frustration again.

“How… I mean— Why, were you…” I began.

“Here?” he finished for me. “Today was a coincidence, nothing more. I return from a long stretch of work, ride back into the capital, and what do I find?” His gaze dipped pointedly to my cheek. “My love being pecked by a man I’ve never seen before.”

The smile he flashed me was dazzling…ly pointed. An apology tumbled out of me before I even knew I’d spoken.

He went on, saying he’d been tied up with matters in his dukedom and a series of knightly assignments, so much so that he hadn’t even been present at any social gatherings. In other words, he hadn’t seen Charlotte once since their first meeting. Meaning nothing was falling into place the way I’d so foolishly convinced myself it would.

Maybe these past few weeks I’d spent rooted in place had been the perfect time for me to disappear, with him so occupied. But Zane, with impeccable timing, hit me with a pointed little “By the way.”

“No matter how busy I am, I will always find the time to come and fetch you. So, if you feel like traveling, by all means.”

Was I really that transparent? How did he see straight through me every single time? I was so stunned that I actually thanked him. For what, I had no idea.

“You were busy…” I muttered. “I see.”

“Yes. Did you miss me since I couldn’t write?”

“N-No! Not at all!”

“That so?” he said lightly. “You’ve never written me back. Not even a single line. And I haven’t seen you in far too long. So I’ve missed you very much.”

His straightforwardness struck me, sending my heart into frantic overdrive all over again. If this interaction had proven anything, it was that all the hope I’d clung to, the delusion that maybe Zane’s feelings had cooled in my absence, had been wildly, laughably misplaced.

“Now then. I’m meant to be on my way to an appointment. If you’ll excuse me.”

“…Right.”

“And one last thing,” he added, turning just enough for his eyes to catch mine. “You’d do well to be careful around that man. Isaac, was it?”

Before I could respond, Evan appeared at the mouth of the alley behind him. Relief loosened something tight in my chest. Finally, someone sane.

“I love you,” Zane whispered, low and warm against my ear as he brushed past me.

And just like that, every bit of relief wound itself right back into a knot.

He walked away with that effortless, unhurried stride of his. The moment he was gone, my legs gave out, and I sank into a squat, trying and failing to steady myself.

Evan strode over leisurely, hand outstretched. “Are you all right, milady?”

“I’m not all right… I’m not all right at all…” I breathed, my voice trembling.

The frantic beating of my heart refused to settle. Nor did the lingering ghost of Zane’s touch or the echo of his voice threading through me, impossible to shake.

✶✶✶

CONVINCED that running into Zane again would be the death of me, I stopped going out altogether, aside from the trips to my restaurant.

One day, while I was holed up in my room, Yanna came in carrying an armful of things. “More letters, gifts, and flowers from Duke Winslet and Lord Lanhart.”

I let out a sigh and shot the pile a tired glance. “Just…put them over there.” I nodded toward the pile of other such letters and presents. All, of course, yet unopened.

I only ended up putting the flowers in various places around my room, since letting them wither felt like such a waste. Unfortunately, every last bouquet happened to be made of blooms I’d once offhandedly said I liked, which was just awful for my heart.

The days dragged on like that until, at last, the day of my restaurant’s soft opening arrived. The situation with Zane was nowhere near sorted, but I couldn’t keep putting off the restaurant forever on the faint hope that everything would magically resolve itself. Besides, having something else to work toward that demanded my full attention helped steady me a little in these turbulent times.

“Oh, I’m so nervous,” I muttered, pacing around the restaurant interior. “What if nobody shows up? Nobody’s going to show up, are they? Oh, God. I’m going to throw up.”

“Relax, milady. Everything will be fine,” Evan said.

“Oop-ope! Oop-ope!” Haniwa chirped.

They were right. My little cheering squad. I’d worked myself ragged this final stretch, sleeping late, waking early, making sure every t was crossed and every i perfectly dotted. But nerves are as nerves are, and they refused to let up. Still, it’d be all the worse if I didn’t have my friends here, rooting for me.

I gave my cheeks a slight slap. “You’re right, everyone. Thank you.”

For the all-important first stretch of the restaurant’s opening, I planned to work alongside my staff full-time. With a bit of magic, my hair was now a soft brown, and thick-lensed glasses hid most of my features. Just like that, my whole vibe flipped on its head. Even with Grace Saintsbury’s lingering infamy, the common folk would have a far harder time recognizing me like this.

Today, the restaurant would be staffed by Yanna, Evan, and me, along with the three regular employees I’d hired: Agnes, Jasper, and Rona. All three were born-and-raised Myriel locals. Agnes and Rona were bright, bubbly sixteen-year-old girls, and Jasper was a handsome, quiet, diligent seventeen-year-old boy. Agnes and Evan would handle the front of the house; Yanna and Jasper would take the kitchen, and I would hover wherever help was needed. Once things settled down, the idea was for the three of them to run the place full-time on their own.

“Milady, looks like customers are already gathering at the door,” someone called.

“Ah! Welcome!”

The door chime rang, and I put on my game face.

Showtime.

✶✶✶

CUSTOMERS trickled in bit by bit since opening, with no sign it would let up, no doubt thanks to all the advertising and word-of-mouth we’d spread around town.

Each time the door swung open and the chime rang, a little droplet of joy and relief slipped into my chest, adding to a rapidly growing pool. My steps felt lighter. The whole world looked brighter.

“Thanks for waiting. Here’s your lunch,” I said, setting down yet another armful of dishes.

“Wow, that looks amazing!” the customer exclaimed.

I smiled. “Thank you. Enjoy!”

I was helping out in the kitchen, taking orders, running food, and chatting with customers. A busy little bee, and I couldn’t be happier.

“Agnes, could you take the order from the back table over there?” I asked.

“Of course! On my way,” she chirped, already heading off.

Back in high school, I used to work part-time at a family restaurant on Saturdays. I found myself drawing on that experience now, more than I ever expected to.

“Hey, milady.” Evan slipped back through the door. “Brought along some more customers for you.”

“Evan!” I gasped. “Thank you!”

Every so often, he’d step outside and flag down people passing by, and I was endlessly grateful for it. As it happened, most of the customers he reeled in were women.

It was worth repeating: ever since I’d mentally reclassified Evan from a human male to a mysterious fantastical beast, I kept forgetting that, by normal standards, he was an incredibly attractive man.

“Mmm! This is so good!” a guest exclaimed.

“Wow, you’re right! Hey, let me get a bite of that!”

It was just the latest in a string of praises from our female guests, who had nothing but kind words for our light, beautifully arranged lunch set. My heart practically took flight. I was sure that if we could just get someone through those doors once, they’d come back again and again.

Just then, the door chime rang again, and I turned to see a familiar face.

“Hey. We’re here, as promised,” Al said, sounding as sullen as ever.

We? I blinked, and sure enough, another man I didn’t recognize stood beside Al.

“Huh?” I snapped out of it. “Al! Thanks so much for coming!”

“Do you have to be so loud?” he snapped.

Then I remembered: when I’d asked Al to bring a friend, he’d grumbled that he’d bring “acquaintances” instead.

Sure enough, the man he’d brought looked older than I was, which only made their age gap more striking. Definitely not someone I’d classify as a “friend.” He carried a quiet, mature air—beautiful in a way—but judging from his manner and his clothes, I pegged him as a commoner. If a commoner could be so tall and slender and elegant, that is.

“Right here, if you would, please!”

I led them to their table and handed over the menus. While Al grumbled that he was starving, the other man looked over the options with genuine curiosity, studying each line as though he didn’t eat out very often.

Al glanced up at me, then did a double-take. “Nice grin on your face, stupid.”

“Oh, but I can’t help it. I’m just so happy!”

I mean, how could I not be? Seeing the ever-prickly Al show up with someone in tow warmed me more than I expected. All that rough talk and rude bluster he usually threw around… Well, that was just the tsundere in him talking after all, wasn’t it?

After taking their orders, I tried making small talk with Al’s acquaintance, who had shifted from the menu to quietly studying the interior of my restaurant. “So, are you Al’s, um…?”

“His friend,” he said, crisp and to the point.

“Ah! A friend! So little Al here does have friends! Good for you, Al!”

“Stop that!” Al snapped. “I’m not some weirdo with no friends, so quit making me sound like one!”

Such cute, boyish annoyance. And right on cue, Evan stepped in and handed Al one of the toys we kept for child customers. Al did not appreciate that either.

Truth be told, I’d always loved the way Evan and Al interacted—the constant sibling-like poking and prodding that somehow never crossed a line. And it certainly didn’t hurt that both of them were easy on the eyes.

“Is Al as rude to you as he is to me?” I asked the man. “Last time, do you know what he told me? That I have no taste in men and that I should think seriously about my future. Honestly, can you believe that?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Hmm? You said that, did you?” he asked Al.

“N-No!” Al sputtered, whipping toward me. “Hey! Who said you could go around telling people that?” He immediately turned back to his friend, desperately trying to defend himself, insisting he’d never said anything of the sort.

Al was much more flustered than the situation called for. I wasn’t sure what that was about, but maybe it was just some dynamic between the two of them.

I had hardly any time to think about it further when another chime rang. But not the one for the main restaurant door. This one was sprightlier, brighter, and almost melodic.

The door to the children’s cafeteria.

I hurried over.

Indeed, I’d made sure the children’s space was separate from the main café and adult dining area. Kids could eat for free there, and I wanted them to have their own room where they could relax without feeling overshadowed by adults. And, in the same vein, adults deserved a refined, peaceful space not bustling with children. So the two areas were entirely divided.

I arrived to find the door cracked open, with three young kids peeking in from outside.

“Hello there,” I said, putting on my kindest smile. “Have you come to eat?”

They traded glances, and the one in front asked, a little wary, “Is it true we don’t have to pay any money?”

“That’s right!” I answered right away. “Anything you like is free—even dessert.”

Their faces lit up. With a gentle “Come on in,” I pulled the door open wider and guided them to their seats.

I’d set aside toys and books in the space so the kids would have something to enjoy while they waited. I told them to pick anything they liked. They were shy at first, but soon enough they were looking through all the fun little things, searching for their favorite.

After that, I asked each of them what they wanted to eat, took down their orders, and headed back to the kitchen, leaving Evan and the others to manage the front of the house on their own.

Now, I wouldn’t be able to do this every day, but since they were my very first customers on this very first day, I wanted to make their meals myself.

“Yanna, could you take this bowl, mix it well, and once it’s combined, pour the sauce over the salad?”

“Sure thing, milady.”

We worked side by side: me as the main cook, her as my extra hands, assembling the children’s orders on the fly. Like Evan, Yanna had long since stopped feeling like “just” a maid to me, and I couldn’t have been more grateful. For her sake, and for the sake of all her younger siblings, I was going to have to raise her pay to something that actually reflected her worth.

“And…done!”

I was a little nervous carrying the three kids’ meals out to their table, but the sight of them absorbed in their toys chased the nerves away and brought a smile to my face.

“Here we are,” I said as I set down the plates. “Enjoy!”

“Wow!” one of them gasped. “This looks so yummy!”

“And there’s plenty more where that came from,” I said with a grin. “Just let me know if you want seconds.”

I’d tried my best to mimic the fun, playful plating that family restaurants used for kids’ meals back in my old life. From their delighted reactions, it was clear every bit of that effort had paid off. Once I made sure they were happily digging in, I hurried back to the main restaurant, which was growing more crowded by the second. That familiar prickle ran down my spine. In no time at all, every seat in the place had filled up.

This was beyond anything I’d expected. I hadn’t thought nearly this many people would show up on the first day, and it left me feeling like I’d underprepared. With just the six of us, we were barely keeping pace.

This did strike me as a little strange. Myriel, on top of being a sizable town to begin with, had been experiencing a bit of a boom recently, and as a result, had no shortage of restaurants. A new one opening now shouldn’t have been such a momentous event, certainly not enough to draw a crowd like this.

“And here is your change,” I said, settling up with a male customer.

“Thank you,” he said. “That was the best meal I’d had in years.” He glanced around the restaurant, then toward the hallway leading to the children’s cafeteria. “It’s true, then. You really are feeding kids for free?”

“Yes,” I said. “That’s the whole idea behind why I wanted to open this place.”

The man’s face softened into a warm smile. He looked down for a moment, then back up at me with a quiet kindness. “Fine work for someone so young,” he said. “Plenty of us might’ve had the same idea, but you’re the only one who actually made it real.”

“Please,” I said, a little bashful. “That’s not…”

“Count me as one of those people,” he went on. “I’ve always wanted to do something for the children, but actually taking action—that’s the hard part, isn’t it? But now, thanks to this place, I get to feel like I’m helping just by eating here. Something tells me I’ll be back soon.”

He took another look around the bustling room.

“And I suspect I’m not the only one who feels that way.” He tipped his hat to me. “Thank you, and keep up the good work. I’ll be seeing you around.”

As he turned to leave, I dipped my head in a rush and thanked him for coming. I stayed like that until he’d disappeared from sight, then straightened, only to find Evan watching me. He let out a laugh.

“Did you eat something bitter there, milady? Your face is all scrunched up something fierce.”

“I’m just… Just trying not to cry,” I said, biting my bottom lip, fighting to keep everything in.

He could laugh all he wanted. It didn’t change a thing. I was happy—so happy that if I loosened my grip for even a second, the tears would spill right out.

“I’m going to go turn that table around,” Evan said. “Milady, could you take the order at that one over there? Should be about time.”

“S-Sure!” I said, snapping back to myself.

Look at Evan—crisp and efficient, giving out directions like it was second nature. This kind of work suited him far too well. If anyone saw us in that moment, they’d be hard-pressed to tell which one of us was supposed to be the boss.

I took the next table’s order, dropped it off in the kitchen, then slipped around to check on the children’s area again. The three kids were just about finished. When they saw me, their faces lit up.

“Thanks for the food, miss!” one of them said.

Their plates were spotless. They’d even put the toys and books back where they belonged. I crouched down to meet them at eye level, took a small hand in mine, and smiled.

“Thank you. Did you eat your fill?”

“Yep! It was real good! And so sparkly and fun! I’ve never had anything like it!”

“Oh, that’s so good to hear.”

My gaze softened. My chest swelled. That innocent, glowing smile was surely the same one I’d once given to my own benefactors.

As I walked them to the door, the red-haired boy paused, looking like he had something he wanted to say.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Is it…really okay?” he mumbled. “That we didn’t pay?”

That anxious, apologetic look was almost a perfect mirror of my former, younger self. So I did the only thing I needed to do and told him exactly what had been told to me back then.

“Of course it’s okay. In exchange, I expect all of you to come back when you’re grown and eat proper meals here like all the other grownups.”

As expected, the boy’s face lit up.

“Thanks, miss! We’ll be back!”

“You’re very welcome. Come whenever you like.”

That pure, innocent smile was enough to move a grown woman to tears. And it did. My vision blurred.

This was what started it all. That smile. The one I wanted to see on every child’s face, everywhere. I wanted every child to grow up safe and warm, never having to worry about whether they’d have anything to eat.

I saw the kids out, waved them off, then slipped around to the detached storehouse where we kept our extra ingredients. In the shadow of the building, I crouched down.

And cried.

The happiness surged up without warning, sharp and heavy, almost suffocating all at once, and I had to clench my fists just to keep from being swept under by it.

Any more than I already had, that is, because all the tears I’d held back earlier, and then some, came spilling out. Everything I felt—gratitude, relief, fear, salvation, joy—had tangled together into one huge, impossible knot in my chest, and I no longer knew how to hold any of it in. Wipe away the tears as I might, they just kept coming back, until my sleeves were a soaked, sloppy mess.

Because a restaurant like this—this idea—had never been tried in this world. And I was just an amateur doing my best. There had never been any guarantee people would accept it, or that things would go this well. My anxiety leading up to today had been enormous. More than once, I’d feared it would all amount to nothing more than some exercise in self-indulgence, but now I knew it wasn’t. Now I felt it—deeply, completely. My hard work had paid off. And more than that, I had the sudden, quiet certainty that this would be the first of many days when I’d look at myself and think the same thing.

Along with all of that, there was the distinct realization that I never would’ve reached this moment, never would’ve felt any of this, if I hadn’t been reincarnated as the villainess, Grace Saintsbury.

“Are you all right?”

A calm, grounding voice cut through my sobbing, and I jerked my head up.

It was the man who’d come with Al earlier. He held out a handkerchief.

“Th-Thank you,” I said, taking it. “Please…pardon me.”

“Not at all,” he replied gently.

Apparently, he and Al had just finished their meal, and he’d come looking for me to thank me before heading out. That only made guilt twist in my chest. He’d come here for a pleasant lunch, and instead, he’d stumbled across me, crying like a child behind a storehouse.

At least, that was how I saw it.

He, on the other hand, simply crouched down nearby and stayed quiet. Not staring, not judging. Just…being there. Watching over me. He really did seem like a kind person. I could tell that much from the few brief words we’d shared.

Beginning to feel a little calmer, I drew in a breath. “I’m sorry you had to see that. But you’ll excuse me if I say it was quite an idea to come looking for me back here.”

“Searching for you is one of the things I’m most experienced in, after all,” he said.

I… Hm? A strange thing to say to someone you’d only just met. But I let it pass, assuming he meant he was simply good at finding people in general.

Evan appeared then, right in the middle of our exchange, likely to grab more ingredients from the storehouse. He took in the sight of the man beside me and me, then assured me the restaurant was completely under control. I could stay here as long as I needed.

Oh, Evan. When he chose to be considerate, he really could be.

Deciding to take him up on his offer, I allowed myself another five minutes of respite and used the man’s handkerchief to wipe away the last of my tears. He didn’t move. Just stayed crouched beside me, watching quietly.

“Why were you crying?” he asked at last.

“To be honest…” I hesitated. It was strange, feeling this urge to confide in someone I’d only just met. But the words came anyway. “Opening a restaurant like this has always been my dream. Ever since I was a child.”

And once I started, I couldn’t stop. I told him everything: why I’d wanted to open a place like this, what it meant to me, the idea behind it all. The only thing I held back was the part about growing up poor. Maybe out of some instinctive courtesy, since he was Al’s friend, and I didn’t want to make him feel sorry for me.

I rambled on and on until, at some point, I snapped back to myself. “I’m so sorry, I— You didn’t want to hear all that, did you?”

“No.” He lifted a hand lightly. “That’s quite all right.”

“Ah… Well, anyway.” I ducked my head sheepishly. “I saw the smiles on those children’s faces, and it made me so happy I couldn’t help crying.”

Saying it out loud made it real all over again. It had happened. And with that realization, a second wave of joy rose in my chest, bright and overwhelming. I smiled without thinking.

The man saw it, and for a moment, he looked taken aback. Then he smiled too, soft and unguarded, as though he might be on the verge of tears now, too.

“You never cease to amaze, do you?” he said.

“What?” I stared at him, but he didn’t offer an explanation. Instead, he simply stood and held out his hand. Realizing we’d been talking for quite some time and that I needed to get back to work, I took it quickly and let him help me to my feet. “Um…thank you so much for listening.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied with a gentle smile. “Thank you for sharing.”

That smile, those words—they felt so genuine that it warmed my heart all over again. And I couldn’t help wondering why I felt so at ease with him. Why he felt so strangely familiar, as though we’d known each other far longer than a single day.

Finally, we stepped out from under the eaves, and Al spotted us, clearly having been searching for his friend.

“There you are,” he huffed. “I’ve been looking all over. I asked that idiot knight, but all he said was, ‘It’s a secret,’ and put a finger to his mouth.”

Again, confirming that Evan had gone out of his way to be considerate.

Al, meanwhile, didn’t seem nearly as irritated as I expected. Probably thanks to the full belly of excellent food he’d just polished off.

“The food was really good,” he muttered, a little sullen. “I guess I could come back, or whatever.”

“Aw, really? Thanks, Al. You’re the best!” I said.

Al was nothing if not brutally frank, all the time. Hearing that from him gave me another shot of joy, another little surge of confidence.

Though I’d planned to treat friends and family for free during the soft open, Al’s friend insisted on paying to show his appreciation, covering both meals. I walked them out as they prepared to leave.

“That really was a delightful experience. Thank you,” Al’s friend said.

“Thank you for coming,” I replied. “Um…might I have your name?”

“That, we’ll save for the next time we meet,” he said.

Was it fashionable now for men to be mysterious about their names?

“All right then,” I said. “Oh, your handkerchief! I’ll wash it and return it to you next time.”

He paused, then gave a small, rueful smile. “Right.” His golden eyes softened. “I’ll be praying for you and your dream. I hope it all continues to go well.”

“Th-Thank you!” I stammered, pulled off balance by the sheer kindness in his expression.

I watched the two of them go until they vanished from sight.

“All right! Keep at it, me!”

Turning back toward the restaurant, I gave my cheeks a firm slap to snap myself back into gear.

✶✶✶

THE restaurant stayed packed right up until closing. The soft open was a clear, resounding success.

And yet, for some reason, that was also the last day I heard anything from Zane.

Chapter 5: A Future Unraveling

Chapter 5: A Future Unraveling

HALF a month since the opening of my restaurant passed in the blink of an eye. Despite the constant, ongoing duties that kept me occupied every waking hour, one thought kept coming back to mind.

“Just how are those two getting along?”

Not knowing how things were progressing between Zane and Charlotte only made me more anxious. My only “eyes in the sky” was Lanhart, and according to him, he’d seen the two of them speaking together several times since. For the duke to talk with a noblewoman alone was rare enough on its own, but combined with the fact that his former haunt (me) had vanished from his side, it had led to rumors that the duke had tossed Grace Saintsbury out along with last week’s trash.

Even though Zane had been in the capital the past two weeks and had been making appearances at social events, he hadn’t written to me. Not a single letter. That alone made me think that this time, for real, Charlotte had gotten to him.

At any rate, this wasn’t a bad situation for me at all. At this pace, I let myself nurture a tiny, fragile hope that I might simply fade into the background, slip off into the sunset, and live the rest of my life the way I want.

However.

“I don’t believe for a second you understand how I feel.”

“For every ounce of love I hold for you, you vex me in equal measure.”

A much larger part of me knew that someone bold enough to say things like that wasn’t going to have a change of heart so easily. Heat rushed to my face. Remembering those words meant remembering everything else from that day—especially the string of kisses he’d pressed on me.

I shook my head hard, as if I could rattle the memories straight out of it.

“Ahp-ehp-oop?” Little Haniwa chirped, tilting its head as it waddled over.

I scooped it into my arms and looked down at it fondly. “Hey, Haniwa. What do you think? Does Zane still love me?”

“Oop-ope! Ahp-eep, oop-eep!” it squeaked, much more insistently this time.

“Adorable,” I laughed softly. “I really wonder what ‘oop-ope’ means.”

It kept repeating “Oop-eep!” over and over, throwing its whole tiny body into each little sound. So cute it almost dragged me right out of my slump by force.

Though…thinking about Haniwa in the context of Zane, the little clay golem really did like him, didn’t it? Was it feeling a little hurt that it hadn’t seen him in so long? The thought made my heart ache.

But then Evan, sipping his coffee, made a small “ah” sound, as if something had just come to him. “I’ve requested two days off from your protection starting tomorrow,” he said. “So make sure you surround yourself with the marquess’s knights when you go out.”

“I will,” I replied. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yes. Going to go beat back some monsters.”

Oh. I was a little surprised to learn that. If Evan had been called in, then these weren’t ordinary monsters. I asked for more details, and he explained the location was a small distance from the capital where a swarm of a particularly strong type had appeared.

“It’s confirmed then?” I asked. “There really has been some kind of change with the monsters?”

He nodded. “They’re appearing more frequently than before. But we don’t yet know why.”

I might’ve. This could very well be the beginning of the Corruption, just as it had unfolded in the novel.

“Yanna,” I called. “How’s the price of aqua arcana lately?”

“No change yet,” she said.

“That’s good, at least…”

Though, should I really have been relieved? The loss of aqua arcana was pretty much the last portent of doom before full-on war broke out.

Feeling an anxious pounding in my chest, I flipped open the notebook where I’d written everything I could remember about the story. But with how much had already changed, I wasn’t sure any of it was still useful.

“What’s that?” Evan asked, peeking over my shoulder. “Looks like a timeline of sorts.”

I answered honestly. After all, I’d already told Evan and Yanna so much of the truth. “It’s everything that happens to Charlotte and Zane in the future from this point on. Or…as much as I can remember.”

“Hmm,” Evan said, nodding as he looked over the pages. “But that’s all you know, huh? Nothing about what’ll happen to you? Or to me and Yanna?”

“That’s right, unfortunately.”

“I see… Well, that’s already plenty impressive on its own.”

A soft warmth unfurled in my chest. The fact that the two of them trusted me so completely and believed a story that unbelievable without hesitation was honestly the strongest reassurance I could have hoped for.

“Hey,” Evan said. “What’s this kidnapping incident?”

“Ah. That’s when a man with a rather unsavory interest in Charlotte kidnaps her, and by chance, Zane is able to save her.”

“And this ‘magical tool incident’ here?”

“That’s when Zane is the one in danger, and this time Charlotte comes to his rescue.”

Charlotte hadn’t even awakened her Saintly powers at that point. But even without them, she sensed Zane was in danger and rushed to save him, getting hurt in the process. It had always been one of my favorite parts of the novel. I’d read it over and over, moved to bits every time.

“It’s just one life-threatening event after another,” Evan observed. “They sure have it rough.”

“Don’t they?” I murmured, then glanced down. “But…that’s just how it is.”

Being the heroine and the male lead meant being hurled into danger again and again and forced to weather hardships no normal person could handle. But surviving those trials together set their love ablaze, growing hotter, brighter, and impossible to extinguish.

That said, no matter how terrible their situations got, Charlotte and Zane always pulled through. Unlike me, where the only thing waiting for me at the end of every ordeal was nearly dying. I let out a long sigh.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. A maid stepped in, looking a little winded. “Milady, you have a visitor.”

“That’s odd.” I set Haniwa down on the table. “Who could it possibly be?”

“It’s Lady Mariabelle Winslet, milady.”

“I’m sorry—did you say Lady Mariabelle Winslet?”

✶✶✶

CUT to me a few days later, at the Winslet Estate, sitting next to Mariabelle.

“I’m sorry for calling on you so suddenly. I know it was rude. But I had to ask you myself—did I do something to make you hate me, Big Sister?” she’d said at my doorstep, looking so forlorn, trembling with worry.

“Of course not! I still love you, and I always will, Mariabelle!” I’d replied, because how could I turn her away after that?

The last time we’d met was before my grand disappearance scheme, so quite a while ago. It couldn’t be helped, I tried telling myself, but when I thought about how lonely she must have felt during that time, how worried and hurt…my chest ached just the same.

She’d told me that day that she wanted to speak with me alone, and so here we were. She’d assured me Zane was out and wouldn’t be back until the next day, and with that reassurance, I’d agreed to come.

“Oh, I missed being with you, Big Sister. This just feels right,” she said, clinging to my arm.

“Oh, Mariabelle…”

Something in me loosened at her touch. She was so warm and earnest. I’d missed her, too, enough that having her near again made me want to hold on and never let her go.

We stayed like that for a while in silence, until at last, her long silver lashes dipped, and she gave my hands a small squeeze. “Tell me, did you have a fight with my brother?”

“I…wouldn’t exactly put it like that,” I said, hedging.

Given how often I used to drop by to see her and how suddenly I’d stopped, it was only natural she’d think something had happened.

As for my part, I’d planned to tell Mariabelle and Zane everything after I broke things off, after the dust had settled. I’d wanted to reassure them that even if we weren’t romantically connected anymore, they were still important to me. That we were still…something. But because the breakup hadn’t happened, this strange limbo just kept dragging on, stretching itself into an awkward, miserable knot of a situation.

“Then…why?” Mariabelle pleaded.

With those big, pleading doe eyes fixed on me, any desire to soften the truth evaporated. I had no room left to dodge or dress it up. I gritted my teeth and told her straight.

“I’m sorry, Mariabelle. The truth is…I want to break things off with your brother.”

Her golden eyes, so like Zane’s, went wide, and then they filled, trembling with tears. “But…why? Did my brother do something to earn your displeasure, or, or, or…!”

Faced with those watering eyes, it took everything in me not to blurt out, I don’t want to have to break up with him either!

“No, that’s not it,” I said, slowly shaking my head. “He was, and still is, very important to me. But we’re walking different paths. He has to take a different road from me.”

“Th-That can’t be.” Mariabelle’s voice wavered. “Please, Big Sister Grace, I beg you, just speak with my brother once. I’m sure he’ll understand! He loves you so much; I know it! You two should be together forever. Forever, for the rest of your lives!”

The force of her hope hit me so hard that my eyes stung. I was just about to pull her into my arms when—

“Mariabelle? Do we have a—”

Zane stepped into the drawing room.

My breath left me in an instant.

I froze.

Zane himself looked just as unprepared, his long lashes lifting as his eyes widened the moment he registered me in the room.

I turned to Mariabelle. Through her tears, she choked out, “I’m sorry,” and then broke into harder sobs. “I just…wanted you two to meet.”

She confessed everything. That she’d lied about Zane being out. That this had all been a setup, a desperate little ploy to get the two of us in the same room again.

And what was I supposed to do? Blame her? Scold her for lying when she was already crumbling under the weight of her own guilt? She was crying so hard she looked like she might fold in on herself. And the more I thought about it, the more the guilt shifted onto me, because the root of all of this, every bit of her anguish, was me.

“You two should be together. Forever and ever,” she choked.

I winced. Coming from Mariabelle, someone who felt as close as a blood sister, those words couldn’t help but sway me. Zane, too, had gone still, his face tightening with something close to pain.

And seeing the two of them like that—two of the people I loved most—something small and ugly twisted inside me. Doubt. Self-disgust. The thought that I was needlessly causing the people dearest to me so much pain. The thought had no place here. I didn’t want it. But it lodged itself in my chest all the same.

“I’m sorry,” Mariabelle whispered as she stood. “I’ll go back to my room. Please… just talk to each other.”

She wiped at her eyes, forced a smile, and hurried out. Her footsteps faded down the hall—light, quick, and full of all the care she carried for us, heavy enough that I felt it echoing long after she’d gone.

In the room, a suffocating silence reigned. Until Zane finally broke it.

“I apologize on Mariabelle’s behalf. I truly had no idea you were coming today.”

“No, that’s all right,” I murmured. “I should apologize too.”

He studied me for a beat. “Can we talk?”

I nodded. He crossed the room and took the seat beside me, but not as close as usual. So something with Charlotte had happened after all? There was some change in his heart that meant I had fallen out of his favor, else why would he sit so far away? I anxiously awaited his next words.

“I’ll ask you this one more time,” he said. “Why do you want to break things off with me?”

Ah. Straight to the heart of it. My stomach dropped, but I smoothed it over, forced myself to meet his gaze as if nothing had buckled inside me.

“I want to break things off with you because I’ve fallen out of love with you. And if we stayed together like this, neither of us would be happy. It’s as simple as that.”

This was the cleanest way to go about it. Zane would hurt. Mariabelle would hurt. But that hurt would pass. Time would move on, and once Charlotte stepped into my place, it would be as if I’d never been here at all.

Correction: this was the only way to go about it. If I let my emotions get the better of me now and set off the chain of events I knew were waiting… A war would start. People would die, me included. The consequences didn’t even compare.

I clenched my fists and lifted my head, forcing the last of my resolve into my voice. This was it. The final time I would tell him we needed to end this.

“So do you understand now? There’s no other reason for wanting to break up with you other than I don’t—”

I never finished.

In the next breath, I was on my back. Zane had pushed me into the cushions, his hands closing over mine, pinning me easily. His face hovered above me, close enough that I felt the warmth of his breath, and my thoughts scattered.

“Wh-What are you…” I whispered.

“Grace,” he said, and that was all it took for my heart to kick into gear. He realized it—of course he did—and the faint, knowing curl of his lips told me he was enjoying every second of it. “Look at you, turning all red,” he murmured. “Clearly, I’m the only thing on your mind, yet you still insist you don’t want me? That that’s why you’re leaving?”

I flinched and turned my face away.

“You really are a terrible liar.”

His fingers slid between mine, locking our hands together more tightly than they’d ever been. His palms were broad and warm, swallowing my hands whole, and it sent a rush straight through me. I’d held his hands countless times. But never like this. Never with this heat, this certainty, this helpless thrum in my chest.

“What will it take to keep you from running?” he crooned. “What must I do to make you stay right here…obediently by my side?”

His eyes trained on me, his hands holding mine in place, I could only manage a thin whisper. “Why? Why would you…go so far for…me?”

But before I could brace for an answer, something in his expression crumpled. A quiet, aching sadness.

“Who knows?” he muttered. “The gods know I don’t anymore. I’ve never loved anyone before you. I don’t even know what this feeling is supposed to be.” He drew in a breath, then looked straight at me with a fervor that made my pulse stumble. “All I know is this: if I let you go, I will regret it for the rest of my life.”

The words pierced straight through me, so hard my throat tightened.

Here was the male lead of my favorite novel. The kind, beautiful man I’d dreamed about. The one I used to imagine at my side, imagining how sweet life would be if someone like him loved me. I’d lived in that fantasy for so long. Now here he was in the flesh, saying everything I used to wish he’d say. How could my heart not leap? How could I not feel joy so sharp it almost hurt?

“I… I…!”

The resolve I’d thought I’d forged into steel wavered.

But, in the end, duty won out. Barely. Just a sliver more than my heart.

I drew in a small breath, let it out slowly, and lifted my eyes to him.

“Stay away from me. For three months.”

His response was immediate and sharp. “For what purpose?”

“For my sake…and yours,” I said, matching his firmness.

Yes. That was the only card I had left. If he wouldn’t let me go now, then I needed distance—time for him and Charlotte to grow closer, to solidify the bond the story demanded.

More than anything, I needed that distance. If I stayed near him any longer, if I kept letting myself feel everything he made me feel… I was terrified I’d lose myself to him completely. I knew full well the futility of my request. I was fully prepared for Zane to reject it outright. Still, I held his gaze, pleading without a word. I couldn’t read whatever was shown on his face as he stared back at me until he finally spoke.

“Very well.”

“Very— Very well?” I blinked at him.

“If that’s what you want.” He released my hands and rose from the sofa.

It had been a desperate play, a wild gamble. I expected him to shut down immediately. For him to accept it, just like that, without protest or pushback, left me more confused than relieved.

I mean, there was no way, based on everything he’d ever done, that he would simply accept a condition like that, right? And hadn’t he just said he wanted me by his side? For a moment, I’d thought I understood Zane’s thoughts, his intentions. But now? I wasn’t sure I understood anything at all.

I’d gotten what I wanted. No resistance, no compromise. And yet my chest twinged painfully. I pretended not to notice and rose to a sitting position as well.

“You won’t hear from me. And I won’t approach you, even if I see you. Will that be acceptable?” he asked.

“I… Sure.”

“Good. Then I’ll walk you out. After you.”

He stood, offering his hand. But the moment he helped me up, he let go.

Those were the last words exchanged between me and Zane.

✶✶✶

“MY, has it been peaceful!” Evan said. “Almost makes me nostalgic for when we went to the beach and the mountains.”

“Ahp-ahp! Eep-eep! Ahp-eep!”

“And look at that. Little Haniwa wants to go to the mountains, too.”

I laughed under my breath. “Maybe we really should go again. A proper vacation this time. Once the restaurant doesn’t need me glued to it anymore.”

I stroked Haniwa’s clay head, and it let out a delighted “Oop-eep!”

Lately, I’d begun to suspect that sound meant something like “like” or maybe even “love.” Evan had been trying his hand at interpreting Haniwa, too, though whether he was ever right was anyone’s guess.

“Ehp-eep-ope! Ahp-eep, Ahp-eep!”

“Ah. It’s saying it wants to see the duke as well,” Evan said.

A thin breath slipped out of me as I looked down, that familiar ache stirring in my chest.

It’d been two months since then. In all that time, Zane hadn’t sent me a single letter. He’d kept his distance, exactly as he’d said he would. And because of that, my days had become almost unnervingly peaceful. A little too peaceful, honestly. For a man who had once chased me to the ends of the earth to suddenly give up so cleanly… Something about it didn’t sit right with me.

“But then again…” I murmured. “This is for the best.”

World peace, and my life, hinged on this invisible, intangible thing called “the power of love.” As a reader, I’d taken it as what it was: a narrative flourish that moved me every time. But now that I actually needed it, depended on it, I realized I had no idea when such a power was supposed to bloom, or even what it truly was.

So I’d just been living as usual, because what else could I do when I didn’t understand any of it? If someone could come and explain it all to me, I’d gladly welcome them.

My restaurant, which I still swung by what felt like every day, was going swimmingly. I’d braced myself for a few months of losses at the start, yet we’d turned a healthy profit in the very first month. Children drifted in and out of the place like it was their own little playground, utterly at home. It was something that never failed to lift my spirits.

“But it does make you wonder, doesn’t it?” Lanhart said. “Maybe this is the duke finally starting to move on.”

“Eep-ahp-oop! Eep-ahp-oop!” Haniwa launched itself across the room and started smacking Lanhart with its tiny clay fists.

“Ow—ow—I said ‘ow!’ Is anyone going to help me out here?”

I watched the scene unfold, thoughtful. “Haniwa really doesn’t seem to like you, Lanhart. I can’t imagine why.”

“No idea,” he said, still enduring the steady stream of taps. “All I did was introduce myself as its new father a second ago.”

“Ope-oop! Ope-ope!” came the furious squeaks.

“All right, all right. I was just joking; relax. Hey, stop! That actually kind of hurts now.”

Lanhart had dropped by today just to loiter around, much to Haniwa’s displeasure. I’d already filled him in, of course; my ever-helpful partner-in-breaking-up was up to speed on everything that had happened since.

“That reminds me,” he said. “Word’s been going around that our little secret has been spotted with Lady Mariabelle, too.”

That snapped me right out of my lazy haze. “Wait. Charlotte?”

“Aye. Someone saw them at a café in town, apparently. And you know how the rumor mill works. Now it’s turned into talk of her cozying up not just to the duke but to his whole family.”

That was…unexpected. I hadn’t thought Charlotte would reach Mariabelle this quickly. The “good ending” might’ve been moving along faster than even I’d anticipated.

“You look sad, Grace,” Lanhart said quietly.

I lifted my head, startled into awareness, and gave him a small, crooked smile. “Well… I think anyone would be.”

It was that selfish sort of sadness. The sting of having your place taken out from under you. But then I reminded myself I was being foolish. I was the one who’d taken Charlotte’s place first. This was just the world shifting back to how it was meant to be, everything returning to its rightful orbit.

“Well, this is a good thing, isn’t it?” Lanhart said. “Now we can start dating instead.”

“Ahp-ehp! Ahp-ehp!” Haniwa shot to its feet, shaking a tiny, furious fist at him.

I scooped it into my arms and stroked its back. “It’s all right. I’m not going to date him.”

“Oop…” it squeaked, settling down.

“True,” Lanhart hummed. “You haven’t officially broken things off with him yet, have you?”

“Not yet. He only agreed to keep his distance for three months, of which two have passed.”

“I see. Then I’m hoping that when the final month ends…” He lifted his hands and mimed snapping a branch clean in half.

Flippant and uncaring was the name of Lanhart’s game. He lifted his teacup for an elegant sip, then suddenly paused. “Oh, right.” He lowered the cup a little. “Actually… I’m supposed to be at a ball tonight, but my original partner, well… she sort of backed out at the last minute. So now I’m in a bit of a pinch, wondering what to do…”

I gave him a flat look. “I’ll go with you if that’s what you’re angling for.”

I owed Lanhart at least that much. And I did need to show my face in society once in a while anyway.

I glanced at the clock and realized that if I were going, I needed to start getting ready now. I rang for Yanna, then walked Lanhart to the door.

“I believe this’ll be the first time we’re officially seen together at any sort of function,” he said.

“I believe so,” I replied. “It’ll be my first appearance at anything in a while, really.”

And if we were seen together, it would only add more fuel to the rumor that Zane and I had fallen out.

Just as Lanhart was about to step into his carriage, he paused and turned back to me.

“Sorry, Grace—I lied.”

“About?”

“There was no other girl. I meant to ask you from the start.” With a dazzlingly impish smile, he climbed into his carriage, tossed out a “no take-backsies now,” and rode off into the distance.

Really, what was the point of those games? If he’d just asked me straight, I would have agreed. No need for that last-minute “you’re my only hope, or I’m doomed” performance.

“Honestly…” I murmured, smiling as the moment replayed in my mind. Admitting to the lie the second he’d told it—so quintessentially Lanhart that I couldn’t help it.

I returned to my room, where Yanna helped me dress.

✶✶✶

A few hours later, I arrived at the party and was immediately set upon by the usual flock of sycophants.

“Lady Grace! Whatever have you been up to? We’ve simply not seen you in ages!”

“Truly! You vanished without a trace. We were all ever so concerned!”

“Sorry,” I said, arranging a polite, paper-thin smile. “I’ve just been terribly busy; that’s all.”

Draped in ostentatious gowns, painted in heavy makeup, and with their hair teased into towering updos, they looked like caricatures of the villainesses I’d known so well. My attire leaned in the same direction, but far softer—so soft, in fact, that standing beside them made me appear almost modest, an oversight on my part. It seemed my time spent in an apron among the common folk had dulled my palate for this sort of thing. It felt more like a gesture for my own peace of mind than anything truly impactful, but if I wanted the story to follow its original course even a little, I needed to mind details like this. I scolded myself for letting them slip.

“So, anything of note lately? Do indulge us, Lady Grace,” one of my flatterers pressed.

“With you gone, that dreadful girl from House Almen—the earl’s daughter, you know—has been strutting about as though she owns the place. Quite the presumptuous little thing.”

“Truly insufferable. A family with no lineage to speak of, and she carries on like that.”

“I-I see…” I managed.

I was caught off guard for a second there. I’d forgotten how conversations with these women always spiraled into either venomous gossip about someone else or shameless flattery aimed squarely at me. A sudden and keen sense of unease overtook me, and I found myself wanting nothing more than to slip away.

“Oh, that’s right, we’d be positively remiss not to ask,” one of them drawled. “How are matters progressing with Duke Winslet these days?”

“We’ve spotted that upstart viscount’s daughter fluttering around him lately,” another added. “The sheer audacity.”

Charlotte, as expected, found no favor with them. Every time her name surfaced, irritation rippled through the group, building as though they couldn’t help themselves. That alone spoke volumes about how much attention she’d drawn lately. This aligned with what happened in the novel. The difference in status between her and Zane had always been a sore point for high society at large. Criticisms, and many times, straight-up harassment, were constantly hurled at her by the other noblewomen.

Charlotte had a resilient spirit. But even she had her limits. There were times she’d be pushed too far and end up in tears, only for Zane to appear, sweeping in to rescue her in true leading-man fashion. With how invested these girls were in my relationship with Zane, I couldn’t help thinking they were exactly the sort who’d spark the kind of commotion Charlotte had endured. I was turning over how best to navigate the topic—how to handle Zane in front of them—when an arm slipped neatly around my waist.

“Grace, there you are, darling,” Lanhart said. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Cue immediate high-pitched squeals from the peanut gallery. Those same women who’d been gleefully tearing others apart seconds ago transformed into bashful, fluttering maidens as though on cue.

As for why Lanhart and I had ended up separated despite arriving together, right outside the venue, a group of acquaintances had swept him up, leaving me to head in alone.

“As expected of Lady Grace!” one of the sycophants trilled. “From Duke Winslet to Lord Lanhart! Only the most distinguished gentlemen for you.”

“Indeed! I knew there was no way that girl had usurped your place. Naturally, Lady Grace would be the one to move on first.”

They looked at me with something like reverence, which was…deeply unsettling.

But Lanhart, ever the reader of the room, stepped smoothly between us and brought a hand up to my cheek in a soft, practiced stroke. “That’s right,” he said lightly. “And seeing as I’m still in the middle of breaking this coveted, coveted girl, would you all mind giving us a moment?”

Cue another set of squeals, then the suck-ups tottering away like a flock of flamingos, all long legs and bouncing skirts.

As expected of Lanhart… I thought, letting out a quiet breath. Moments like this reminded me how tiring it was just to act “Grace-like” every day and how out of practice I was.

From there, Lanhart led me around, introducing me to this friend and that. To my surprise, they all turned out to be genuinely lovely people, and before I knew it, I was actually enjoying myself. Even with all the rumors clinging to my name, they treated me as if I were something more.

“As I was saying, you won’t meet anyone with a broader view, or wilder ideas, than Lord Lanhart,” one of his friends said. “Working with him is equal parts education and relief.”

“As you can see,” Lanhart said, nudging me, “I slipped each of them a generous sum to praise me in front of you.”

That set off a round of laughter. “Please, ignore him,” another chimed in. “He jokes like this constantly.”

“Yes, I’m well aware,” I said, smiling.

Everyone seemed to have genuine respect for Lanhart, treating him as a real friend and comrade. Just like that, the image I’d had of him as a shallow playboy who only bothered to hit on women flipped on its head. And I felt this small lift of joy at getting to see a different side of him.

Though my impression had shifted, the truth remained: he was still very much a ladies’ man. Each lady we passed swooned and eyed him. “Lord Lanhart! Looking as lovely as always.” “Oh, how I’d love to be the one by your side, if only for once” were some of the things they’d say.

I fully understood that feeling. Even with my sense of beautiful men satiated after being around Evan and Zane for so long, Lanhart still registered on that scale.

He caught me looking up at him. A soft “Hm?” slipped out, followed by a smile and a small, almost lazy tilt of his head, each gesture straight out of some racy novella.

“Just thinking how you’re quite the looker, is all,” I said.

“Oh? You think I’m beautiful? And here I was under the impression you didn’t see me in that light at all,” he teased.

“I think you’ll find that’s rather impossible with someone who looks the way you do.”

“Is that so? Well then, thank you, Grace; you’ve just made my night.” He genuinely brightened at that, which struck me as odd. Surely he’d heard far more extravagant praise than anything I’d just offered. “Since this is a ball and all…care to dance?” he asked.

I pulled a wry face. “I appreciate the offer, but I must refuse.”

The etiquette of a noblewoman lived bone-deep in me, so I knew I could dance okay. But okay wasn’t flawless, and Grace had always danced flawlessly. With so many eyes here, the fear of slipping up in front of everyone made my stomach twist.

“That so? Shame. I always assumed you adored dancing. Back then, the queue of men hoping for just one turn with you stretched halfway across the hall. A few even came to blows over it.”

“I… I see.”

But I still had my reservations. I told Lanhart about my doubts because of my spotty memory, my unease, and all that, only for him to snort right in front of my face.

“The belle of the ball, the woman who used to bask in every eye in the room, afraid to dance? Oh, that’s rich.” Once he’d had his fill of laughing at me, he promised he’d help me practice another time.

Then a ripple of noise rose from the far side of the ballroom. I turned—and froze.

“Charlotte…” I breathed.

My heart jolted. This was the first time I’d seen her in months. She stood at the center of a lively cluster of men and women, and even from a distance, her beauty, her charm, that Charlotte I remembered, radiated as clear as day.

The light happened to hit her just so, and I found myself staring. Lanhart must’ve spotted her, too.

“Oh? Our little secret has made her appearance. Honestly, I’m starting to see her everywhere these days.”

“Those big, doe-like eyes… That small, delicate face. So slender… And so pale…” I muttered.

“Are we talking about you or her?” he asked with a half-amused smirk.

I understood the jab well enough, but she looked like an entirely new creature. More polished, more luminous than the last time I’d seen her. As a fan of the original story, I couldn’t help the thrum of excitement in my chest. It felt like turning a corner on the street and suddenly running into a famous celebrity.

“Oh, she’s so beautiful,” I whispered.

No wonder Zane fell for her. No wonder anyone would. That dull little ache stirred in my chest again, but I pushed it down and forced myself to look away.

✶✶✶

THE night carried on from there, mercifully without me ever needing to set foot on the ballroom floor. With Lanhart beside me, I enjoyed myself far more than I’d expected, and before I knew it, the clock struck twelve.

“Tired?” Lanhart asked. “We can step outside for some air if you’d like.”

“Yes, I’d like that. Thank you.”

Even the way he offered a break was perfectly timed and effortlessly considerate, and it struck me again why he was so universally adored. I took his hand, letting him lead me out onto the terrace and down into the garden beyond.

The cool night wind felt wonderful against my face, and the breeze stirred Lanhart’s impossibly long lashes. His amethyst eyes looked distant, steady, and fixed on the moon where thin clouds drifted lazily across its face.

“I’ve always loved the moon,” he said. “Sometimes I find it, stare for a while…then realize hours have slipped by.”

“How unexpected,” I said. “I would have thought you were more of a sun person.”

He let out a quiet laugh. “If I had a coin for every time I’d heard that.”

I’d always heard that moon-gazers were gentle souls, or people who were hurt easily. And Lanhart, to me, had always shone loud and bright, like the sun itself. But maybe there were still pieces of him I’d never bothered to look for.

We stargazed in silence for a while. Until an interesting star caught my eye.

“Hey, do you see that—”

“Quiet.”

A finger appeared suddenly before my lips, shushing me. Lanhart wasn’t even looking at me—his eyes were locked on something ahead. I followed his gaze toward the fountain.

Zane and Charlotte stood there.

Sharing a kiss.

“What the…?”

The word barely formed. My breath vanished altogether.

It felt as though someone had tipped a bucket of ice water straight over my heart, every bit of warmth draining from my body in an instant.

Why?

How?

Since when were they here?

Earlier, I’d only seen Charlotte; Zane had been nowhere in sight. So what? Had he arrived at the very end just to sweep her home? Pick her up like this, like it was all perfectly natural?

Questions with no answers kept firing through my head as I watched them separate. Charlotte’s arms were still looped loosely around his back, and on her face was that slightly embarrassed, a little flustered, yet unmistakably happy expression—the look of a girl in love.

I couldn’t look away. It felt like watching every illustration from the novel come alive at once. Once, the sight would’ve made my heart soar, but now it hollowed me out instead. As if someone had set my heart in a vise and kept turning the screw until it couldn’t tighten any further, leaving me unable to breathe.

That in just two months they could have come this far—I’d never even considered the possibility. But the gravity between a female lead and her destined partner was evidently stronger than anything I’d imagined. Strong enough to sway the heart of a man who’d sworn unwavering devotion to me.

And all I could think was: if I’d never come here… If I’d bowed out of the story the way I was meant to… How much smoother everything would have gone for them.

A nuisance.

A shackle around Zane’s ankle.

That’s all I had ever been.

“Now this is unexpected,” Lanhart murmured beside me. “But good for you, eh, Grace? Now you can finally put all this behind you and—”

For some reason, he cut himself off. I turned toward him and found him staring at me—surprised, almost stricken. Then his expression softened into something like understanding. He beckoned me closer, took my hand, and guided me away.

We walked in the opposite direction of Zane and Charlotte, slipping deeper into the quiet until we reached the shadow beneath a tree. There, without a word, he gathered me into his arms and held me tight.

“Honestly, what am I supposed to do with you?” he sighed, a touch of exasperation threading through his voice. “Crying when this is exactly what you said you wanted.”

Crying, what did he—

And then it hit me: the tears. They were already streaming unchecked down my cheeks. I felt them soaking into his jacket as he kept me pressed against his chest, steady and warm, while I shook.

“Wh-Why am I…” The words came out of me in a shaky, broken mess.

I was crying, and I didn’t even know why. Charlotte and Zane were finally coming together, just as I’d wanted. I should have been overjoyed. Ever since waking up as Grace, that had been the whole point. Everything I’d done, every painful step, had been to push them toward this ending.

So why, in the face of seeing it happen, did it feel like something was tearing straight through my chest?

Before I knew it, sobs were spilling out of me, loud and uncontrollable. And also, before I knew it, Lanhart’s hand was on my back, stroking slow, soothing lines as if comforting a child.

But the steady weight of his palm, the warmth radiating through the fabric, only made the tears come harder.

“Now why would you do that?” he crooned softly. “Push him away, only to cry yourself sick over it the moment he’s gone?”

“Because I…” The words broke apart between my sobs. “I didn’t have a choice…”

“Right. World peace or fate or prophecy, something along those lines?” he said lightly.

What I wanted had never mattered. Not once. From the moment I reincarnated into the pages of that novel, my wants stopped being relevant. I knew that. I’d known it from the very first day.

And yet—

How selfish could I be? How utterly foolish to be given a second life of comfort and privilege—a marquess’s daughter with every luxury handed to her—only to pine for the one thing I was never meant to have?

I was a minor character. A villainess.

How dare I even think of wanting the perfect, dazzling male lead for myself?

“But if you ask me, Grace,” Lanhart murmured, “the fact that you’d go this far for him—let yourself hurt like this, cry like this—only proves how much you cared.”

He was right. Painfully, undeniably right. His words dropped into my chest like a stone, sinking straight to the bottom.

Of course, I hadn’t wanted war. Of course, I didn’t want to die. But beneath all of that—the real reason I’d done any of this—was my wish. That small, foolish wish that Zane would be happy.

And it wasn’t just because he’d been my favorite character once, in a story I adored. Somewhere along the way, I’d come to love the person known as Zane Winslet.

Far more than he would ever know.

“I’m such a fool,” I breathed.

Because who else but a fool would fall so deeply, so quietly, for a love that was never meant to come back to her? And the truth was, deep down, I’d known from the start.

Maybe I’d always been walking this road. Becoming someone special to him, being treated like I mattered, hearing him say he loved me…

There was never going to be another ending.

Only this one, unfolding right in front of me.

“I’m not as kind as you, Grace,” Lanhart whispered. “I’m selfish. If I were in your place, I’d have put my feelings first.”

“If you only knew,” I murmured. “I’ve already been selfish. More than you could imagine.”

Because even while telling myself I wanted things to work out between him and Charlotte, some small, stubborn part of me must have been hoping. Expecting, even. That Zane might still choose me instead. That words like “All I know is this: if I let you go, I will regret it for the rest of my life” could mean something more than they ever truly could.

I hated it.

Hated myself for it.

The whole unfair shape of things.

The tears kept coming, no matter how hard I tried to stop them.

“I really am quite a wretch, you know,” Lanhart said suddenly.

The confession was so out of place that I jerked my head up, startled. “What’s…that supposed to mean?”

He reached up and brushed a tear from my cheek with his fingertip, a faint, almost self-mocking smile on his lips. “When I tell a woman I’m done and want to end things, she could cry her heart out, and it wouldn’t stir me in the slightest. If anything, having to deal with it annoys me.”

I blinked at him, thrown. It was hard to reconcile with the man who always seemed so gentle with women, but I supposed that was the point—he might think whatever he liked privately, but the fact he kept it hidden said plenty about his kindness. Enough, at least, to disqualify him from being a “wretch.”

“But,” he continued quietly, “for some reason, watching you cry… I can’t stand it.”

The shock of that stole the breath from me and, for a moment, even halted my tears. My heart thudded once, sharp and loud in my chest.

His amethyst eyes held mine, steady and earnest. Lanhart was always teasing, always light, hardly ever serious—

But right now, there wasn’t a trace of play in him, and I couldn’t pretend otherwise.

“I wonder why that is?” he crooned, far too knowingly. Seeing me flustered into silence, Lanhart’s expression softened into a warm smile. “You can just be with me. I’ll treat you right.”

At a moment like this, in a place like this, those words felt like something to cling to—something my scraped-raw heart reached for without hesitation. It took me a long moment to find my voice at all, and even then, all I managed was a faint “You’re impossible…”

“If I had a coin for that as well…” He laughed softly. “Well, just for tonight, I’ll spoil you. Use me as much as you need. Cry to your heart’s content.” He resumed stroking my head, slow and steady.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

There was no denying it—this was a good thing. With Zane and Charlotte finally finding each other, the story was finding its way back to its original path. Soon enough, none of this would be mine to worry about anymore.

But for now… Just for now, I let myself cry, hoping I was at least allowed that much.

I clung to Lanhart’s jacket like it was the only solid thing left to hold on to, and I cried until I couldn’t anymore.

✶✶✶

“YOUR Grace! Thank you so much for joining us tonight!”

“Not at all. If anything, I should apologize for my tardiness.”

I had come at a friend’s behest, asked to make the acquaintance of someone or other, but the moment I crossed the threshold of the ballroom, the crowd descended. Before long, the walls felt too tight around me, and I seized on the first excuse that came to mind to slip away.

Outside, the night breathed easier. I walked until the noise dulled into a distant shimmer and found myself in the garden’s half-lit hush.

“Duke Winslet? Is that you?”

That airy voice floated up from behind me. I turned, already knowing the face I would find. Charlotte Clive. She was so pale that she was visible even in the fading glow of dusk.

Only recently had she become the viscount’s adopted daughter, yet I’d been crossing paths with her more often than seemed likely. Not just at the predictable soirées where one expects such meetings, but in odd corners of town where chance felt a little too deliberate. With each of those encounters piling atop the last, conversation between us had become almost inevitable.

And still, not once had I felt the usual prickle of irritation. I’d already learned why: she always kept a careful, respectful distance.

I recalled a previous conversation we’d shared.

“The other day, I happened to share a table at a café with Lady Mariabelle… She was truly lovely. Such a delightful person. It left me genuinely happy.”

“Is that so?” I’d answered at the time, offering nothing more than the polite response expected of me.

She had been warm that day. Too warm, perhaps. Her manner invited a kind of closeness I couldn’t quite name, yet beneath it lingered something I couldn’t shake.

But right now, something was unmistakably off. Her pallor had struck me first, but now I caught the faint wobble in her step.

“Ah!”

I barely had time to register it before she pitched forward, collapsing straight into me. I caught her at the last moment. She felt so slight in my arms—so thin and weightless that it stirred real worry.

By the way she’d fallen, our faces ended up close. Our noses might not have been a hair’s breadth apart. Instinct told me to draw back, but the moment I shifted, she wavered again, forcing me to abandon the idea and stay right where I was for her sake.

After a breath, I braced her by the shoulders and eased her upright. In a voice so faint it seemed ready to disappear, she murmured an apology.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“Y-Yes… Sorry…” she whispered.

She told me she was made to drink more than she’d intended—perhaps even against her will. She’d stepped outside to clear her head. It wasn’t hard to believe; there were always rumors of unsavory men who got women drunk just to prey on them.

And when the thought crossed my mind that Grace might one day be caught in the same situation, my blood burned hot.

“Can I…stay like this…just for a moment?” she asked, almost pleading.

Clearly, she was struggling. And since carrying her off or leaving her on her own both felt like worse choices, I simply nodded.

Her arms slipped around my back, and she held on, breathing slowly in and out, trying to steady herself.

“Thank you,” she murmured after a while. “I feel better now.”

“I see,” I said quietly.

She said she’d decided to head home for the day, but the thought of leaving her here, only for her to collapse somewhere on her own later, sat badly with me. So I offered to escort her back to the venue myself, if only to ensure she didn’t fall again.

“You’re very kind, aren’t you, Your Grace?”

The words clung to me longer than they should have.

“Hardly,” I muttered.

And yet…she wasn’t entirely wrong, was she? This wasn’t like me. The old me. But I had changed. Because of Grace. Because of the steady warmth and compassion she carried, brushing against me too many times to leave me untouched.

Grace.

The thought rose unbidden—what she might be doing now, at this very moment. I was still turning it over when Lady Charlotte abruptly halted, a faint, startled sound slipping from her lips as she stared off to the side.

I followed her gaze. In the dim light, two figures stood locked in an embrace. It was a man and a woman, pressed close, shadows merging into one. A secret tryst, no doubt. Such things were hardly uncommon. I didn’t give it a second thought. Moved as if to pass by, to treat the scene as what it was—someone else’s trouble, when—

“Is that…Lady Grace Saintsbury and Lord Lanhart Gardner?” Lady Charlotte muttered.

“What?”

I almost dismissed it out of hand. It was some mistaken glance, a trick of the dark. But the instant the names left her lips, my body moved before my mind could catch up. I turned back, this time searching, forcing my eyes to pierce the shadows.

She was right.

There was no mistaking those silhouettes. Grace. And Lanhart.

For a heartbeat, the world seemed to tilt under my feet. I could scarcely make sense of what I was seeing. Grace, here of all places, pressed close in the arms of that man?

“I’ve seen those two together before,” Lady Charlotte said softly. “I must say, they do seem to make a very lovely pair.”

Those words twisted like a knife in my chest. Burning, searing jealousy flared through me. And yet…I couldn’t look away.

There they stood, bodies angled toward one another with an ease that suggested familiarity—affection, even. They looked, unmistakably, like two people inclined toward each other. Like lovers.

But what happened next? What happened that challenged every fiber of what I knew and truly wiped my mind blank?

“You can just be with me. I’ll treat you right,” Lanhart murmured.

And Grace… Grace simply folded into his chest. Softly. Willingly. As though it were the most natural thing in the world.

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

Had she… truly given her heart to another?

The Grace I knew would never bare herself to someone so easily. Never lean into another’s arms without hesitation. And because I knew that, because I was certain of it, the sight before me scraped against something raw inside of me.

“Duke Winslet?” Lady Charlotte’s voice cut in. “Are you all right?”

The sound of my title tugged me back to myself. I managed a thin, dry smile—more perfunctory than anything.

Grace and I were in the middle of a three-month break at her request, but we hadn’t severed ties. Officially, we were still…whatever we were. By all rights, I could have marched straight over and demanded an explanation. Confronted her. Confronted him.

But the fact that I wasn’t. The fact that I was rooted to the ground where I stood, I realized… was because I was afraid.

Afraid that Grace truly had chosen someone else.

Afraid that, if I walked over there, she might look me in the eye and say so.

Such…paralyzing fear.

It crept through my chest and settled into every part of me, a quiet, undeniable truth: I was far weaker than I’d ever allowed myself to believe.

All those times I’d met Grace’s attempts to end things with calm certainty, with defiance, had only been possible because I’d trusted, somewhere deep down, that she didn’t truly mean it. That in her heart of hearts, she still chose me.

But now…

I shook the thought away. Turned myself physically away.

“Lady Charlotte. My apologies. Let us go.”

“Y-Yes…” she replied, still unsteady.

We walked back toward the ballroom. She trailed slightly behind me, her steps careful, her balance not yet restored. The moment we stepped inside, she was swept up by a cluster of anxious friends. They circled around her in a gaggle of worry, scolding themselves for not noticing, apologizing for letting her drink so much, and fretting over where she’d disappeared to.

When the commotion finally eased, she turned to me, dipped her head in thanks, and I gave a simple nod in return before taking my leave.

I immediately ran into my good friend Boris.

“There you are, chum,” he said. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Is that…the woman you’ve been rumored to be getting close to for a while now?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “There are rumors like that going around?”

“Ah, so you didn’t know, after all.” He let out a breath, half amused, half resigned, and went on to explain that apparently, word had spread that I’d ended things with Grace and taken up with Lady Charlotte instead.

Utter nonsense, of course, every bit of it, but the nobility had always been quick to decide their own truths. Ones that pleased them to hear. I’d long since stopped bothering to correct them.

But while I’d learned to tune all that noise out…what about Grace? Had she heard any of this? Had it reached her ears in some twisted, embellished form? And after what I’d just seen—after the way she’d leaned into Lanhart—how much more would the rumor mill spin?

The thought lodged itself in me, and with it came another wave of unwelcome anxiety.

“Now, what’s gotten you looking like the sky’s about to fall?” Boris asked.

So it showed on my face after all. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but the realization still landed harder than I liked. I exhaled and said, “I saw Grace and Lanhart Gardner together in the garden.”

Boris’s brows pulled tight at once. Even without the details, he understood.

“I’d had a bad feeling with how she hasn’t come up in our talks lately, but this…I didn’t expect. Truly. I thought, with how the nastiness around her had died down, she’d found her footing again—been reborn, in a way—after getting to know you.”

I grimaced.

Everything I’d ever heard about the old, infamous Grace Saintsbury had always rung false. They described a woman so far removed from the one I knew that it bordered on caricature. The contradictions were so stark that they only strengthened my belief that gossip and rumor were just that.

Far from being grasping, she was the least entitled person I’d ever met.

Far from some man-devouring temptress, she was, if anything, one of the purest, most unguarded souls I knew.

“Hey. How about using that spy I introduced to you before?” Boris said.

“I’ve been using that spy,” I answered.

“You…what?”

“To keep an eye on her.”

Alfred—the young man I’d charged with the task—had revealed several things. First, that she had some hidden reason for wanting to end things with me. And second, that her supposed affair with Lanhart Gardner had been nothing more than a ruse to make it happen.

Absurd, really. I’d known it was all a ploy. I’d known it. And still, the moment I’d stumbled upon them mid-act, I’d been angry enough to put my fist straight through the nearest wall.

I explained to Boris how I’d had Alfred tailing Grace recently—how the boy had been chasing after her more than once when she tried to slip away—and his jaw practically unhinged. He stared at me as though I’d suddenly grown horns.

“Incredible. And here I thought I’d known you all this time.”

Boris and I had grown up together. He’d seen every version of me. For him to say that meant I truly had stepped outside the bounds of who I used to be.

“Though,” he went on, “I ought to scold you for using him that way. If anyone else pulled something like that, they’d be tried for a crime. Or…wait. Maybe even a duke isn’t that far above the law. In any case, Lady Grace has my sympathies.”

“I know,” I muttered, looking aside. “I know exactly how it sounds. It’s not as if I don’t understand the weight of it. But I just…can’t help it.”

It hadn’t begun with anything ill-intentioned. I’d simply wanted to understand her better. Wanted a clearer picture of the woman who fascinated and confounded me in equal measure. So I’d asked Alfred to look into her, nothing more.

But then her behavior shifted. She grew unpredictable. She began plotting to sever things between us. And that left me no room—no choice, or so I’d told myself. If I hadn’t done what I had… If I hadn’t kept track of her movements, her intentions…

I wasn’t sure I’d still be seeing her at all.

“But now…it’s real, isn’t it?” Boris said.

I had no answer for him. None that would pass my own throat.

“Listen, old friend,” he continued gently, “take this chance to look elsewhere. There are other women. Plenty of them. The one you were just with, she’s beautiful, isn’t she? We can agree on that much, can’t we?”

“We honestly can’t,” I said, flat and immediate.

Boris blinked, caught off guard. “Surely you’re joking. Don’t tell me you’ve only got eyes for Grace or something so hopelessly romantic.”

“But that’s exactly it. No one else even registers. Not in that way. I don’t see anyone but her. I was only with Lady Charlotte because she needed help.”

A sharper flicker of surprise crossed his face before he let out a bark of laughter. “You’re so pure. I’ve underestimated you.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Perish the thought. I’m only wishing the best for my best friend, chasing after the love of his life.”

I didn’t doubt him—not for a heartbeat. His words, lightly spoken though they were, rang as sincere. When my parents died, he’d been the first to stand by me, the one constant in a world that had suddenly tilted. If anyone wished me well without reservation, it was Boris.

“Having that said, it takes two to do the relationship dance,” he went on. “Tell me, what do you plan to do? Surely you’ll talk to Lady Grace about this, yes?”

“I will,” I said. “In a month.”

“In a month? Why a month?”

“I agreed to keep my distance for three. Two have passed.”

He stared at me, incredulous. “Let me get this straight. You push back that hard, refuse to let her go, have her tailed like some fugitive, and this is where you completely and utterly comply with her wishes?”

“I know Grace,” I said after a beat. “She wouldn’t ask for something like that without a reason.”

Always there had been a reason. Some rationale unknown to me pushed her into acting against her nature, asking to break up when the words themselves looked like they hurt her, doing things she knew would wound me, even though she was never the sort to hurt without purpose.

But breaking up…was different.

That was the one line I wouldn’t let her cross. Because if she did, if I let her slip out of my hands like that…

I feared I’d never touch her again.

It came to me then, the memory of the day I’d gone to her restaurant with Alfred, hidden behind that magical tool-wrought disguise I’d borrowed from His Majesty. To her, I had been a stranger. Entirely unremarkable. She hadn’t recognized me, not even when we spoke at length.

She’d talked, eyes shining, about how she’d dreamed since childhood of opening a place like that. And those tears—those quiet tears slipping down her cheeks—hadn’t been from hardship, but from joy. From seeing children smile because of something she had made with her own hands.

I remember walking away afterward, struck to the core. That was who Grace Saintsbury was—kindness and compassion woven into something fundamental, something she didn’t even realize she carried.

And yet I was deceiving her.

Standing there in a borrowed face, letting her speak to me with complete sincerity while I hid the truth…the guilt had settled in deep. Heavy enough that when she asked for that three-month distance, I hadn’t argued. I’d agreed because, after seeing her like that, it felt like the only honest thing left I could give her.

“You really would trust her with your life, wouldn’t you?” Boris said. “Even when you’ve just seen her in the arms of another man.”

He wasn’t wrong. My trust in Grace Saintsbury ran bone-deep. So much so that even catching her held close by someone else, some part of me still believed she must have had a reason, something earnest and selfless behind it. It was absurd, and yet undeniably true.

“But…why three months, I wonder?” he muttered.

“Who knows,” I said. “Perhaps she thinks that’s enough time for me to move on to someone else.”

“How does she figure that?” he asked, genuinely baffled.

I didn’t know either. But everything she’d said, everything she’d done, pointed to one thing: she seemed convinced I would eventually fall for another. Convinced—and strangely, almost hoping—it would happen. And yet, the very same woman would, without realizing it, behave in ways that hinted unmistakably at affection. Even fondness. It was maddening.

She tried to push me away, wearing the face of someone resigned to losing me… Yet, every so often, she’d act in ways that betrayed her guard, her love for me. And the worst part was that she seemingly had no awareness of it at all.

In that one maddening respect, she truly did resemble an evil, scheming villain.

“Three months, though, eh?” Boris hummed. “That’s a heck of a long time. How are you holding up?”

“All right,” I replied. “Three months out of a lifetime is nothing. I can handle it.”

He stared at me for a beat, unconvinced, then sighed and rolled his shoulders. “Out of a lifetime, eh? Sounds an awful lot like you’re planning to spend the rest of your life with Lady Grace.”

“I am,” I said without hesitation.

Once, all of this had begun as a farce—a debt repaid for her saving Mariabelle’s life. I would play the part of her lover until she tired of the game. That had been the plan.

But somewhere along the way, it had stopped being an act. Now, I thought of her constantly and seriously as someone I could stand shoulder to shoulder with for the rest of this mortal coil.

Boris eyed me, something softer slipping into his expression. “You’re trouble. As much as I’d like to warn Lady Grace for her own sake…all the best to you, old friend.” He gave my shoulder a firm, grounding squeeze. “Do what you have to do. Just don’t let yourself regret it.”

✶✶✶

AFTER parting ways with Boris, I climbed into the carriage for the ride back to the estate, where Mariabelle was waiting.

All that time I’d remained at the ball, Grace never once returned to the ballroom. I couldn’t help wondering if she might still be with Lanhart Gardner even now, and the thought sent another sharp jolt through my chest.

“Truly… am I beyond saving?” I muttered into the clatter and sway of the carriage.

If, in a month’s time, I went to her as promised—and the first words out of her mouth were that she’d fallen for Lanhart Gardner, that she wished to end things with me… How would I take it? How was I supposed to take it?

I no longer believed the right answer was to impose my feelings upon her. To insist she stay by my side simply because I wished it. Once, I might have. And I certainly had. But not now.

And yet… I couldn’t help but feel the time had long since passed when I could let her go with any sort of clean, wholehearted blessing.

Interlude

Interlude

TAP, ta-tap, tap, went the light, dance-like click of her heels as the young woman pranced down a dim corridor of the Clive Estate.

A young man trailed after her, hair dark as midnight, eyes glinting like obsidian. He watched her with a narrowed, almost affectionate gaze. “Lady Charlotte. You’re in quite the mood today.”

She let out a lilting giggle, her skirts fluttering as she spun back toward him. “Naturally. I got to touch my beloved Zane so much today. And it’s the first time he’s ever called me by name.”

Her hands rose to her cheeks, as if she could still feel the warmth there. The look on her face was bright, breathless, and giddy—every bit the young girl drunk on her own romance. And the young man, watching that sweetness bloom, couldn’t help but smile too.

But then she frowned. “Oh, but the ‘Lady’ in front of Charlotte still feels so stiff, doesn’t it? One day, truly, I wish he’d just call me Charlotte.”

“Then why not ask him the next time you see him?”

“No, no, no, I can’t do that! Zane isn’t the sort who likes women charging straight at him like that.” She twirled back around and resumed her merry little skip down the corridor. “Oh, how I would’ve adored being Grace instead. Mariabelle kicks the bucket, and poof—Grace gets to snuggle right up to him! But…that’s when everything started going wrong, isn’t it? Because Mariabelle didn’t kick any buckets at all.”

She pressed a thoughtful finger to her lips, head tipped just so.

“Zane was supposed to lose Mariabelle, get dumped by Grace, and then seal his heart away forever to become the Cold-Hearted Duke. But that doesn’t seem to be happening, does it? If anything…it seems he’s gotten even kinder…” Letting out a grand, theatrical sigh, she stopped mid-step, pivoting back toward the young man. “Isaac. I’m tired. Carry me to my room?”

Isaac smiled and stepped toward her, as if she’d merely asked him to take a bag off her hands. “Your wish is my command.”

He gathered her up with careful reverence, as though she were the finest treasure in the world. She slipped her arms around his shoulders without missing a beat, settling into his hold with the ease of someone who’d done it a hundred times before.

“If we go by the novel, this should be the part where Zane and I start having tea dates, but none of that’s happening…”

“Grace Saintsbury’s fault, you think?”

“Most likely. With everything going so bizarrely, she and Zane are still going strong. They were supposed to break up by the princess’s marriage celebration ball, you know?” Her gaze dipped, lashes lowering in genuine, almost tender sadness. “Poor Zane. He’s been completely brainwashed by that woman. It’s up to me to free him!”

“If Grace were to be…removed from the story, would that ease your heart, Lady Charlotte?”

“It would make everything much simpler, honestly. But don’t misunderstand—I don’t hold anything against her. It’s thanks to antagonists like her that true heroines like me get a chance to shine!” She stretched out her hand toward the window, fingertips brushing the moon. With a playful flourish, she curled her hand closed as though she were catching it.

Isaac watched her, a quiet, aching devotion settling into his eyes. “I shall make you shine brighter, milady. Brighter than anyone in this world.”

She let out a soft, tinkling giggle. “Thank you, Isaac. But no doing anything bad, all right?”

“Of course,” he said smoothly. “I’ll see to it…properly. All above board.”

“Good boy!” She reached up to ruffle his hair, gentle as a mother and radiant as a starlet. “When I say, ‘Jump,’ you really do ask, ‘How high?’ don’t you, Isaac?”

Chapter 6: In Search of an Unseen Star

Chapter 6: In Search of an Unseen Star

TWO weeks had passed since I last saw Charlotte and Zane at the ball.

“Thank you for the food, miss.”

“You’re very welcome! Come back anytime.”

I was back in the restaurant, smiling as I waved off the latest group of kids who’d stopped by for a meal.

Word had gotten out: this was a warm, welcoming place. More and more kids had started dropping by, taking full advantage of the space I’d set aside for them. They ate with bright, easy smiles, and every one of those smiles lifted my heart a little.

The gentle Japanese influence in the flavors, the meal-set-style dishes, and the cute arrangements and plating I’d brought over from my old life were all big hits. We already had plenty of repeat customers, and business was booming. Just as that man had predicted on my soft-open day, people came simply because they wanted to help support the kids. I had found salvation—both for the restaurant and for my heart.

“I’ll go ahead and take this to table three.”

“Sure thing. Thanks, Evan.”

The career knight had taken an unexpected liking to restaurant work, and these days he helped out almost entirely of his own accord. He’d been using his sword so rarely lately that it felt as though he might’ve forgotten where he’d left it. Whether that was a problem or not…I decided to shove that thought to the back of my mind.

I watched him set the plates down, only to be flagged down by a table of women. They blushed, batted their eyes, and leaned in as he took their order. It happened often—women coming in just for the chance to flirt with Evan.

“Mr. Evan, what do you like to do on your days off?” one of them asked.

“Days off, huh?” he said. “I usually blow all my money at the casino, drink until sunrise… oh, and beat up anyone who tries to start trouble with me.”

The shift in mood was instant. The women’s faces fell in perfect unison.

That happened often, too. Women coming in just to be thoroughly turned off. But Evan was always here, and that was a good thing. My father had said he’d paid him enough that I could ask for whatever help I needed so long as it kept Evan by my side, and I’d taken him up on that, gladly.

“Excuse me, miss, can we order?” one of my tables called.

“Yes! Just a moment,” I said, hurrying over.

I’d been doing everything I could to help out here, and every day left me feeling genuinely fulfilled. Yanna and Haniwa were always by my side, the three of us working together. And with Father being so indulgent, I’d ended up with far more freedom than any marquess’s daughter ought to have. Sometimes I couldn’t help thinking, Maybe I’ve done it. This is what it feels like when a dream comes true.

But then a thought surfaced, heavy enough to slip out of me as a sigh.

I hadn’t seen Zane since the night of the ball. He’d kept his distance—no letters, no word. It had to mean things were going well with Charlotte. There were still two weeks left of the three-month promise, but I couldn’t say I expected anything to change once that time was up.

A familiar thorn pressed into my chest that pricked me every time I thought of them. Thankfully, it didn’t happen often. By keeping myself busy, I’d managed to forget and ignore more than a few things.

“Hello.”

Just then, the door tinkled open, and in stepped a familiar face.

“Mr. Isaac!” I said, brightening. “It’s good to see you again.”

Despite the little “incident” between him and Zane, he still dropped by from time to time as a customer. Zane had warned me to be careful around him, but nothing remotely concerning had ever happened. He just came in, ate, chatted with me about whatever crossed his mind, and went on his way. Sometimes he even brought toys and books for the kids. They adored him, as did my staff.

I took his order, hugged my notepad to my chest, and smiled. “Someone’s in a good mood today.”

Isaac glanced up, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before his eyes softened. “Is it that obvious? I’ve just received a bit of good news.”

“Oh? Then please, do share your little piece of happiness.”

“Well, let’s just say a nuisance who’d been causing me a fair bit of trouble won’t be troubling me anymore.”

“My. That does sound like good news.”

Isaac was kind. If he called someone a nuisance, they must have truly earned it.

“Yes, I’m very glad,” he said. “And I hope things continue to go well for you here. I’ll support you however I can.”

“Aw, thank you.” I gave him a polite bow before heading back toward the kitchen. “Agnes, I’ll take over from here. You can take your break now.”

“Sure thing, boss. Don’t overdo it yourself now.”

“Thank youuu.”

Agnes, my lovely employee, was a local Myriel girl of sixteen. She was my bright little personality hire, though without any of the negative implications that she wasn’t good at her job. She was excellent in every way. She adored pointing out how handsome Evan was, though she insisted something was a bit off behind those pretty eyes.

Business had gotten so busy that I’d hired two more employees on top of her—both hardworking, good kids.

I picked up a knife and cut vegetables for the salad, my hands moving of their own accord.

The motion was grounding, though a faint weight tugged at me beneath it. The story was finally threading back toward its original path. I’d achieved my dream, and I was living it day by day.

And yet, that hollow ache in my chest refused to fade.

✶✶✶

ON a day when the restaurant was on its usual break, instead of baking treats or enjoying some quiet time alone, I found myself surrounded by people, sipping tea.

“This guy is seriously bad news. You really need to shake him for your own good,” Al said.

“Agreed,” Evan said.

“Ahp-ope! Ahp-eep-ahp-eep!”

“Such an attitude. Especially from you, Haniwa. I just know whatever you said about me wasn’t flattering,” Lanhart muttered.

For some reason, the four of us (and one magical construct) were crammed into my room, hosting the motliest tea party imaginable. It had originally been just the three of us until Lanhart appeared out of nowhere and made himself the fourth.

“Grace, I need you to speak up for me; I’m being killed out here,” Lanhart said. “Am I really that awful?”

“Wh-Who knows…” I managed.

Across from Evan sat Lanhart, and beside him, me. Without warning, he slid an arm around my waist and let it settle there. I peeled it off immediately, scooped up Haniwa, and set the little construct firmly between us.

All the while, the memory of me ugly-crying in the garden kept replaying in my mind, along with those mortifying lines Lanhart had murmured to me:

“But, for some reason, watching you cry… I can’t stand it.”

“You can just be with me. I’ll treat you right.”

And I knew he knew perfectly well those words were still circling in my head. From the moment he’d arrived, he hadn’t stopped trying to touch me or whisper soft little nothings, as if every one of my reactions was just entertainment for him.

“Ahp-eep, eep-ehp!” Haniwa, needless to say, was furious. It bulged out a giant, muscular arm.

Sensing actual danger, Lanhart reacted instantly, creating a shield of some sort with a touch of water magic. “There. Now you can’t touch me,” he announced to Haniwa.

“Oop. Oop-oop…” came the dejected squeaks.

“Wait a second. Lanhart, you can use magic?” I asked.

“A little. As much as I need to, and nothing more.”

“Huh…” The realization struck me at once. “Do I truly know so little about you?”

“Perhaps.” His lips curved into a wickedly lovely smile. “And perhaps you’d like the chance to get to know me better.”

“Um…all right. Then, you introduce yourself first. I’ll go next.”

He let out a soft laugh. “You really are an innocent one. I meant we should go on a date. A real one.”

Sorry to say, but I had no interest in going on one. I could give ample reasons. I wasn’t in the mood, or I had the restaurant to think about. But the truest one was simpler: right now, I couldn’t imagine feeling that way about anyone at all.

I opened my mouth to refuse.

“You owe me one, remember?” Lanhart cut in. “I’m cashing in that favor I’ve been saving for a rainy day.” His smile sharpened, tightening at the edges. “And right now, it is pouring.”

✶✶✶

LONG story short, I ended up agreeing to a “real” date with Lanhart next weekend. With the restaurant eating up every hour of my weekdays, time shot past at a terrifying pace, and before I knew it, the night before the date had arrived.

“What shall we do about your dress, my lady?” Yanna asked.

“I don’t know…” I muttered. “A date… a date… What even is a date?” I frowned. “Feels like I haven’t gone out with a man without the express purpose of deceiving him or running some scheme.”

“Does hearing yourself say that carry with it the faintest feeling of emptiness, or is that just me?” Evan asked dryly.

“Please don’t,” I pleaded.

All my outings with Zane had been to keep the story on track. The ones with Lanhart had been staged to make it look like I was having an affair. Plenty of dates, but none for the actual reason of what a date was for: getting to know someone.

So yes, for Evan to call me out like that, I did feel empty and awful and guilty, and oh god, the negative feelings were lining up to crush me.

“If there’s anything I can do to help, just say the word,” Evan offered. “Oh! Shall I make another checklist?”

“No, thank you, absolutely will not be needing that,” I immediately shot back, remembering just how much damage Evan’s Ten Milestones for Closing the Distance with the Duke had done to me.

“Is that…what you want to do with me?”

Zane’s voice when he’d seen that list—the misunderstanding that ended with him wall-slamming me in the carriage and my crying and bolting for my life afterward. That entire episode was such a dark stain on my past that I wished it could be scrubbed out of my mind with fire.

But then I remembered the last time Zane actually touched me—kissed me, several times, in that shadowy alleyway. I hadn’t run. I hadn’t flinched. I hadn’t even cried (out loud). Maybe it was a sign of my growth… Or maybe something in my heart had simply shifted since then.

“True,” Evan mused. “With Lord Lanhart, it seems like no matter what you do, the distance between you closes on its own.”

“That’s…not even close to what I meant by ‘not necessary.’” I shot him a flat look, then moved over to Yanna, who was diligently picking out dresses.

“What’ll you do if he confesses to you?” Evan called out, still unwilling to drop it.

“He won’t. You don’t need to worry,” I said without even turning around.

Last time, yes, under that tree, he’d gotten to me a little. I could admit that much. But Lanhart himself had once told me everything he did was frivolous, nothing more than play. Taking any of it seriously would practically be an insult to the man.

Evan replied with a disinterested, “Hmm, is that so?” despite being the one who brought up the question in the first place. It grated on me a little before he said, “Oh, wait!” like he just remembered something. “Almost forgot. I met the duke yesterday.”

“You what?” I froze.

Yesterday? Now that I thought about it, he had stepped out in the afternoon for a personal errand, but I never imagined it would have put him face-to-face with Zane. Curious as I was, I kept my expression neutral, forced myself to stay composed, and pretended not to care as I opened my jewelry box.

“He came up to me and asked if I’d join him in handling a few monsters tomorrow morning, if I had the time. But I told him I couldn’t, citing your date with Lord Lanhart, so I needed to be out and about to protect you.”

He… He cited what now?

Well, it was the truth. I couldn’t fault him for not lying. If anything, he was doing me a favor by feeding the story along. So I tried my best to ignore the wild pounding in my chest.

“Did he…say anything to that?” I asked before I could stop myself.

“Said, ‘I see. Good for them,’ or something along those lines.”

Something in me dimmed.

“I see,” I murmured, barely audible. Cursing the version of myself from thirty seconds ago who’d been foolish enough to ask, I shoved the yellow diamond necklace at the front of the box all the way to the back.

✶✶✶

THE morning of the date, I woke earlier than usual, squeezed in a quick magic-training session in the garden with Haniwa, then headed straight for a bath to wash the sweat off before Yanna dressed me.

“You look beautiful, my lady,” she said, offering me a hand mirror.

“Thank you,” I replied, taking in the reflection. Grace Saintsbury, the bold, gaudy villainess, as I knew her.

I wore a navy dress, dark as night, with large, eye-catching stones dangling from my ears and a few more glittering along my neckline. Heavy liner and red lips made my face even more striking than usual. The whole “gap attack” strategy hadn’t been necessary for a long time now, but it still wasn’t Grace Saintsbury’s moment to exit stage left.

Besides, Lanhart had said he liked the contrast between my appearance and my personality. If there was ever a day to lean into it, this was the one.

“I feel so…restless,” I muttered.

Maybe it was because I hadn’t dressed up like this in so long. It felt strangely like wearing someone else’s skin.

What would Zane think?

The thought rose before I could stop it, and I swatted it right back down, shaking my head hard. There was no sense in indulging that now.

“Be careful out there, my lady,” Yanna said.

“I will. And Evan will be with me, so I’ll be perfectly fine.”

Since it was a date, he’d be trailing us from a distance. Any normal man might have balked at the idea, but Lanhart was more than agreeable, saying things like, “I don’t mind. It’s nice to feel safe,” or “I like having someone watch,” or other equally deranged, unsettling little comments.

Before long, he came by to pick me up, and I hopped in the carriage with him.

“You look absolutely magnificent,” he said. “Shot an arrow right through my heart.”

“Thank you,” I muttered politely.

“You don’t look convinced. How sad.”

“Well, you probably say that to everyone.”

“You wound me. I say it far less often now.”

Very much like Lanhart to say that he reduced the flirting rather than stopping it outright.

The carriage carried us into town, where we stopped for lunch. It was a small but very fancy hole-in-the-wall place, and according to Lanhart, even a few royals slipped in here from time to time to enjoy a discreet meal.

“You come here often?” I asked.

“Not often. I only bring the people who are truly important to me,” he said easily.

“I-I see.”

I reminded myself firmly not to get swept up by Lanhart’s heart-stirring declarations. If I let them get to me, my chest would give out by evening. Keeping my tone as light as I could, I nudged the topic away.

“What are we doing after this?”

“Visiting a place I’ve always wanted to take you to. Then maybe finding somewhere quiet to relax, just the two of us. How does that sound?”

“I’m fine with anything.”

As a first-time dater, it was a relief to follow someone else’s lead. And not anyone’s lead, but a veteran of the art. I was starting to think I could enjoy myself.

The meal was delicious from start to finish. With bellies and hearts full, the place we headed to next was a boutique. Inside were dresses, jewelry, and even high-end furniture. It was the sort of place you could only get into if you knew someone.

“Here. This’ll look good on you.”

“I-I think so, too. Wow, it’s adorable.”

Lanhart picked out dresses and jewelry with effortless certainty, as if he knew at a glance exactly what would suit me. Turns out the man’s outfit, from his shirt down to his shoes, wasn’t perfectly coordinated without reason. The man really did have impeccable taste.

Every piece he chose looked perfect on me. I agonized over which one to buy, only for him to casually purchase the entire selection right in front of me.

“A gift, from me, if you would allow it,” he said. “If only because I want to see you wearing them.”

I tried to refuse and insisted I’d pay him back, but he only laughed.

“You really are unlike anyone I’ve ever met. I’ve never seen someone react quite like that.”

After arranging for the dress to be delivered to my house, we gathered everything else and stepped out of the shop.

“Next, shall we go someplace we can relax, just the two of us?” Lanhart asked.

“S-Sure,” I managed.

He sure was being awfully mysterious about this “place.” We climbed into the carriage, but this time, unlike the ride over, he sat right beside me. In his hands was a hair ornament set with large amethysts, one of the pieces we’d just bought.

“May I have the honor of putting this on you?” he asked.

“Sure, but my current hairstyle probably won’t suit something like that.”

“Will you trust me?”

Trust him? With what?

Still, I nodded. His hands slipped into my hair, undoing my half-ponytail, moving with a practiced ease as he reshaped it. A little too practiced. Just how many women’s hair had he worked on like this?

“Your hair is gorgeous, Grace. Not to mention conspicuous. It helps me pick you out of any crowd.”

Every now and then, his fingers brushed the nape of my neck. It tickled, sharp and electric, and I kept flinching no matter how hard I tried not to. I couldn’t even form a reply; I was too focused on keeping any sound from slipping out, my hands clenched tight in my lap. I must’ve looked like a carved statue.

“Even the back of your neck is blushing. Adorable.”

That did it. “All right, stop! Stop! I’ll do it myself!” I yelped, jolting to my feet and trying to scuttle over to the opposite bench.

“Sorry, sorry. I won’t tease you anymore.” He raised both hands in an easy surrender, looking genuinely apologetic. For a moment, he seemed honestly thrown off, which startled me enough that I eased back down into my seat.

“So you know you were teasing me,” I muttered. “How awful.”

“I really am sorry.” He repeated it over and over again, as if to mollify me. “But you’re so innocent, it just slips out of me.”

My glare, flat and unimpressed, settled on him.

“Besides, when we first met, you barely even reacted to me,” he went on. “Seeing you respond like this now…it makes me really happy. But still, sorry.”

Was he still teasing me? His conciliatory tone and look told me he wasn’t, so I had no choice but to let it go. He said I had changed, but if anything, he was the one showing a different side today.

I couldn’t quite put it into words. His usual flirtatiousness had been tempered by something gentler. A warmth that wasn’t the type of kindness he’d shown before when helping me with this or that. Something deeper.

“And…there we go,” he said. “All done. Just as I thought, it suits you perfectly.”

In the carriage window, my reflection showed an elegant, polished style I never would’ve thought to do myself. I couldn’t help feeling a spark of impressed wonder and an itchy shyness I tried (and failed) to hide as I thanked him.

But then he smiled at me, open and sincere, and I couldn’t help smiling back.

✶✶✶

ABOUT an hour later, we arrived at a large lake called Lake Benarch. It was apparently a well-known date spot—a calm, glassy expanse dotted with blooming water lilies.

“Wow, it’s beautiful,” I breathed. Then I stiffened. “Wait… It’s also packed.”

“Right now is when the lake is at its most beautiful, after all,” Lanhart said.

The shoreline was a full-on spectacle, with couples everywhere and families milling about, sightseers elbow to elbow. A small pier offered rowboat rentals, but the line stretched so long it curled back on itself. It hardly looked like a place where two people could slip away and relax.

That said, I didn’t mind lines, and I’d never ridden one of those little boats before. I could’ve enjoyed it just fine, even if it wasn’t exactly private. Excited, I started toward the line, only for Lanhart to tug firmly on my hand.

“We’re over here,” he said, already steering me in the opposite direction.

A short walk later, we came upon a smaller, secluded body of water. The same water lilies floated across its surface, but unlike Lake Benarch, not a single soul was around. A boat waited there as if reserved just for us—larger and far more elegant than the rental rowboats.

“And here we are,” he said. “The perfect place to relax, just the two of us.”

“W-Wowww-yeugh,” I managed, my awe curdling into mild disgust halfway through. The whole setup was far too perfect, and all I could think about was how many women before me had fallen for this exact routine.

Still, I climbed aboard, settling opposite him, and we pushed out onto the quiet water.

“The warm sun, a cool breeze—we couldn’t have asked for better weather,” he said, eyes drifting over the water.

He was right. The lake’s surface caught the sunlight and scattered it in a soft shimmer. With the water lilies in full bloom, the whole scene felt a step removed from reality. But what really drew my attention was Lanhart himself. The quiet way he watched the water, the sunlight brushing against his face, looking so…beautiful.

He must’ve felt my stare, because he glanced over, half-smiling. “What is it? Keep looking at me like that, and even I’ll start to blush, you know?”

Absolutely a lie. There was no universe in which I could fluster him. I narrowed my eyes. “I was just thinking how natural it is that everyone falls for you; that’s all.”

“Not everyone,” he said. “In fact, I’m looking at an exception right now.” He rested his chin in his palm, elbow propped on the boat’s side, and gave me this breezy, almost detached look.

“I’m just not…ready to fall for anyone right now,” I muttered, letting my gaze drop away.

The thing with Zane still wasn’t fully resolved. After his and Charlotte’s getting together, there was still my near-death experience to look forward to. There was no time for anything like love or a relationship.

“Besides…if I do fall in love, I want it to be real. Not some kind of game.” I shot Lanhart a pointed look.

“But,” he said softly, “if I could win even a single look from you, I’m sure I’d give the whole of my life to keeping it.”

I flinched.

“And that’s not something I say to just anyone.”

The sincerity in his eyes held me still. His expression, his voice—everything told me he meant every word. Nothing of the usual Lanhart Gardner was here. None of the easy charm or idle teasing.

Just honesty.

And it made my heart flutter.

“I hope you realize I’m quite serious about you,” he went on.

“But…why?”

“Because… I see something in you, I guess. If a woman like you were to give her heart to me… I think I’d count myself the happiest man alive. Oh, how I envy the duke, as he gets to have someone so devoted by his side.”

There was no room left to ask him why, no space to brush it off as another joke. Not when I couldn’t bring myself to doubt him anymore. Those amethyst eyes—reflections of which were still glinting faintly in my hair—held a steady, unshakable earnestness.

I’d seen that look before. Only then, it had burned gold, bright enough to sear itself into me.

✶✶✶

THE restless boat tour ended before long. We finally stepped back onto solid ground and wandered into a nearby café.

“This fresh fruitcake is to die for, or so I hear. Pairs perfectly with the black tea,” Lanhart said.

“You sure know a lot about the menu,” I remarked.

“All theoretical knowledge, I promise. It’s my first time here. But I took the liberty of doing a little research beforehand.”

I took note of it without much reaction at all, which was its own quiet shock.

After all, Zane had done the same on our dates. The memory of Mariabelle calling him out and him asking me, sheepishly, to pretend I hadn’t heard flickered through my mind. Once, that scene would’ve warmed me, filled me with fondness.

Now it only hurt.

I was telling myself I couldn’t keep dwelling on the past forever when the food arrived. I took a bite of cake. Nothing. A sip of black tea. Still nothing. All this richness, all this indulgence laid out in front of me, and I felt absolutely nothing.

By the time we stepped back outside, dusk had started brushing the sky in shades of orange.

“So, what’s on the schedule next? For what it’s worth, I’m not ready to part with you just yet,” Lanhart said.

As we walked toward the carriage, I hesitated over how to answer.

For all his talk about being a “wretch,” Lanhart was a good man. Even if he couldn’t see that himself, I could. The date had been pleasant and genuinely fun. If anything could speak to the kind of person he was, today surely did.

I didn’t love him.

Not now, at least.

But as for what the future held…I couldn’t say.

“You can just be with me. I’ll treat you right.”

His words echoed again.

If I gave him my heart, this ache in my chest would go away, wouldn’t it?

If I spent enough time in his arms, Zane would fade from my thoughts entirely, wouldn’t he?

“Fall in love with me, truly, and the good duke will have no choice but to step back. He loves you too much to do otherwise.”

He’d said that once.

“After all, nothing makes a heart give up faster than watching the one it loves fall for someone else.”

If that was true, then maybe… Maybe there was something I could do. Just because Zane and Charlotte were finally going well didn’t mean his feelings for me had vanished overnight. He might still need one last push, and I was the only one who could give it.

With that thought settled, I nodded my agreement to stay with Lanhart, only for him to blink, startled.

“Wait. Really? I only said that because, well, what have I got to lose? But…really? I practically twisted your arm just to get you here with me today.”

Lanhart was surprised, sure, but he didn’t hesitate. He tugged me along with obvious delight, and we climbed back into the carriage. He slid in right beside me again, studying my face. “Where do you want to go?”

“I have no idea, so I’m leaving it up to you.”

He tapped his chin, thinking. “Truth be told, this was Plan B. Plan A was to take you to a festival on the outskirts of the capital, but it was suddenly canceled. Apparently, there’s been a surge of monsters in nearby Lavien Forest.”

My mind went blank. “Lavien Forest?”

This was in the book. The monsters overflowed from Lavien Forest without end, but it wasn’t supposed to be now. It wasn’t supposed to happen until long after Charlotte and Zane officially got together. Yet it was happening already?

“How…” I breathed.

In the story, Zane, overwhelmed by the endless tide of monsters, had been fighting on the edge of collapse when Charlotte arrived. While he cut down everything in their path, she led them to the magical tool that caused the swarm and destroyed it. It was the first time they fought together.

Yesterday, Evan mentioned Zane had recruited him to deal with some monsters. At the time, how could I have known it was this?

“What do I do? At this rate…”

Because of my interference, Charlotte and Zane weren’t nearly close enough for her to be at his side the way the story required. Which meant it was entirely possible she wouldn’t reach him in time. And if she didn’t show up, then no one would realize the swarming monsters were being drawn out by a magical tool.

“How did you know this was the cause?” I recalled Zane’s line from the book.

“I sensed something beneath that tree that felt deeply wrong to me,” Charlotte had replied.

But that had only been possible because the power of love was by then already beginning to awaken her dormant Saint abilities. Those powers were the only reason she’d detected the magical tool.

So what? If Charlotte didn’t appear and couldn’t detect the evil, then no one would know how to stop the swarm, and lives would be in danger?

I might not have had the power of a Saint. But I did have knowledge. I knew exactly where the tool was hidden. If I went myself, I could find it, destroy it, and end this crisis before it spiraled.

“Grace? What’s wrong?” Lanhart leaned toward me, worry tightening his voice.

I met his eyes steadily. “I’m sorry. But I have to go.”

His brows knit instantly. “I know that look. You’re about to do something incredibly dangerous, aren’t you?”

He caught my wrist, holding me in place. And I couldn’t deny it.

Maybe I was worrying over nothing. With how much the story had already veered off course, maybe this plot beat wouldn’t happen at all.

Maybe nothing would come of it.

Maybe something would come of it, but Charlotte would still make it to Zane’s side.

Either outcome would be perfectly fine.

Maybe I’d end up making a fool of myself, running off to some empty forest, looking like the girl who cried wolf. That would be more than fine, too.

But if none of those things happened, if the worst really did come to pass, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.

“Is this for the duke?” Lanhart asked.

“Yes,” I answered without hesitation.

He’d seen straight through me. I didn’t even feel the urge to lie.

“Even if he’s already hopelessly in love with that new girl, you’d still go?”

“I would.”

The resolve in me was solid. Perhaps hopelessly so.

“But why would you go so—” He stopped himself with a quiet breath. “That’s a silly question, isn’t it?”

Of course it was. We both knew the answer. He offered me a small, pained smile and a helpless shrug.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be,” he said gently. “How can I help?”

Of course he’d offer, even now, when I was about to run to the aid of his rival. That was just the kind of man he was. I’d always known it. And the guilt clawed even deeper because of it, though my determination didn’t waver.

“That’s all right. I can handle it. Thank you for today. Truly. I had a wonderful time.”

I tried to pull my hand back. His grip held for a heartbeat, then loosened, just enough to let me go.

I stepped down from the carriage and ran.

✶✶✶

“WELL, color me surprised. I see your carriage screech to a halt, you hop out, and the first thing out of your mouth is that you want to go slay some monsters. Huh. Is it opposite day?”

“I…really do have no comment this time.”

After hopping out of Lanhart’s carriage, I met up with Evan and explained the situation. Like every time before, I only needed to give a minimal explanation. I’d said monsters were running amok thanks to a corrupted magical item, and that item needed to be destroyed, and that was that. Evan just nodded as if I’d told him we were heading to the market. “Sounds like a big deal. Let’s go!” And with that, we were off.

We rode on horseback to the outskirts of Lavien Forest, where we dismounted and I climbed onto Evan’s back instead. The sun had fully set. It was incredibly dark in the dense forest, and the howls of monsters rose from every direction. It was unsettling. Terrifying. If I’d been here alone, I would’ve burst into tears long ago. I looked at the back of the head of the person who was the reason I hadn’t and felt a deep sense of gratitude.

“Evan. I’m truly so grateful for you. For everything you do. Honestly, I love you.”

“Sorry, milady, sounds like a one-sided sentiment to me.”

“Hey.”

“I’m joking. If I didn’t like you, I would’ve quit being your personal guard ages ago.”

“Bwah?”

His choice of words startled me, and a strange noise slipped out before I could stop it. I knew he meant “like” in the strictly platonic sense, but…still. Evan was inscrutable at the best of times. Hearing him say he liked me so plainly was a first.

Joy flickered through me, tempered by mild shock. He’d been my personal knight—well, Grace’s personal knight—for two years. He’d endured the whims of the old Grace long before I ever arrived, suffering through her moods, her demands, and her reputation. And yet for him to hold any fondness for me at all… It felt strangely offbeat. A man of his caliber could choose his posts. He didn’t need to cling to a job out of necessity. There was no world in which he stayed on just for the money.

“You liked the old me, too?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

“Sure did,” he replied. “Few people were as straightforward and honest as you were. Made dealing with you a breeze.”

Straightforward and honest.

To describe the old Grace?

Evan really was a treasure. One I would be a fool to let go.

“We’re really starting to run into the thick of things here,” he said. “Evading the monsters may not be an option much longer.”

We started catching sight of knights moving between the trees, most of them looking ready to drop. No surprise there—they’d been fighting an endless flow of monsters with no breaks and no help.

Our destination was the tallest tree in the forest, underneath which the magical tool was buried. But since we were heading directly toward the source of the swarming, that naturally meant we’d be running into the most monster-filled area. Evan would hold them off as I looked for a chance to destroy the tool.

I’d thought about pulling a few knights in with us, but there was too much to explain and too little time to explain it. And besides, there was still one major problem I hadn’t worked out how to deal with yet.

“Hey. What happens if you come into contact with Corruption?” I asked.

“Death, if it’s a lot,” Evan said. “If it’s not as much, then sickness.”

“…I see.”

The magical tool, of course, was daubed in Corruption. Charlotte, being right on the edge of her Saintly awakening, would’ve been immune to it. The heroine always had that kind of protection. Good old Plot Armor™. As for everyone else…it necessarily meant coming into contact with Corruption.

“Is there something I should be aware of regarding Corruption?” Evan asked.

“No,” I said right away. “It’s nothing.”

No way would I pawn this role off on someone else. I had to be the one to do it. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared, but the thought of something happening to Zane was far worse.

And besides, if Grace Saintsbury had anything, it was the luck to get herself out of the bad situations she created for herself without consequence. I was sure it’d also apply here…right?

At last, the tree loomed into view, and Evan put me down. Monsters swarmed around the periphery. Goosebumps shot up instantly.

“Quite a crowd,” Evan murmured. “Listen carefully, milady. From here on, they’re going to come for us. We’ll move forward while I hold them back. Stay right behind me. If you’re close, I can protect you. Don’t stray.”

“Understood.” I nodded. “Thank you, Evan. But…please don’t overdo it.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m strong, milady. We’ll be fine.”

It was only at times like this that Evan’s boundless confidence actually helped. It eased some of the tightness in my chest.

“Charlotte hasn’t come after all,” I murmured, looking around the empty clearing. In the novel, everything was already wrapped up before sunset, so it was obvious the story wasn’t following its script.

Whatever faint hope I still had went out then. This really was on me.

I drew in a few steadying breaths and told myself I’d manage.

“Wait. I hear something,” Evan said suddenly. “Someone. They’re coming this way at an incredibly fast pace. They’re almost upon us.” His eyes narrowed toward the east, the gray of them tightening in focus.

I heard nothing but monster howls and roars, but with his wind-magic-sharpened hearing, he must’ve caught something I couldn’t. The last thing I wanted was someone stumbling on us in the middle of this, so I hoped we could hurry when a flash of light tore through the darkness.

By the time I realized it was the glint of a sword, it was already too late.

“Zane…”

I would never mistake him. Zane cut through a monster and kept coming, heading straight toward us. My breath hitched. The timing was atrocious—of course it was—but seeing him unharmed made relief surge up so sharply I almost cried.

I bit back a sob and turned away, desperate not to meet his eyes. But again, too late.

For just a fraction of a second, our gazes locked. His eyes went wide with shock, and I saw the soft “How?” slip from his lips.

“Evan! We’ve got to go!”

Zane couldn’t catch me here. He’d stop me, demand answers, and if he learned what I intended to do, he’d try to take my place without a second thought.

I couldn’t let that happen. So Evan and I pushed forward, faster.

“Graaaah!” a monster shrieked overhead.

“Milady, down!” Evan shouted.

He cut through one monster after another, but they just kept coming, two more for every one that was slain. If Evan hadn’t been with me, I would’ve died a dozen times over by now.

Splattered with monster blood and gore, I stayed close under his guard as he carved a path straight to the base of the tree.

Where I immediately struggled to breathe.

“The air…is foul.”

Without a Saint’s protection, the Corruption hit me at once. Forcing myself to take as little air as possible, I dropped to my knees and started digging at the tree’s base with my bare hands.

I dug and dug and dug, until…tink. My fingers found a small, worn mirror. “There it is…” I breathed, what little air I had slipping out with the words.

Evan had told me before: magical tools were, by their nature, resistant to destruction by physical means, or so he said. The simplest way to destroy one was to touch it and pour in enough magic to overload it from within.

“Hey, Evan? When the tool breaks and I pass out, carry me back home to the estate, will you?”

“Huh? Milady, what are you—”

That was all I heard before I pressed my hand to the tool and forced my magic into it. Everything I had, all at once. Grace already had a lot of magical potential, and after all the training I’d done with Evan and Haniwa, that power had only grown sharper.

“Ngh… agh—!” The sound tore out of me before I could swallow it down.

“Milady! What are you doing?!” Evan’s voice cut through the chaos, alarmed.

“I’m…fine… Evan, focus on the monsters! D-Don’t look back! Just…defeat them!” The words scraped out of me, harsher than anything I’d ever thrown at him.

He faltered mid-swing. Even from where I knelt, I saw the moment he realized something was wrong. He stepped toward me.

“I command you!” I yelled louder this time so he’d hear the desperation under it.

His expression tightened, torn. I had never spoken to him like that—not once since my rebirth. After a tense second, he turned away and lifted his blade again. I felt a small bit of relief.

“Break, damn you… Break!”

I poured out every bit of power I had, refusing to hold anything back. In my head, I kept repeating the same prayers over and over.

Then, from the palm holding the mirror, a black, scar-like mark started to crawl across my skin, spreading up my forearm with a hot, searing pain. I swallowed the scream that tried to force its way out.

Charlotte hadn’t struggled like this in the book. For her, it had been easy. So for me to be writhing like this now…it only reminded me how powerless and unimportant I truly was.

A side character pretending she could do what only the heroine was supposed to do. Who did I think I was?

Even so, I couldn’t stop. Not now. I could do this. It was just barely within reach. I only had to hold on a little longer.

“Grace!” It was Zane’s voice, cutting through everything. “What are you doing here?!”

I lifted my head, and there he was. His white knight’s uniform was torn, soaked not just in monster blood, but also in his own. Of course he’d be injured. Fighting nonstop like this, even Zane would be worn down eventually.

“Grace…what are you…?”

“G-Get away!” I shouted. The words came out as a raw, hoarse cry.

He flinched, but he didn’t stop. He stepped closer without a hint of hesitation, eyes fixed on the black mark crawling up my arm.

No… Stop. Stop!

Fearing that if he got any closer, he’d be afflicted too, I forced even more magic into the tool—every last bit I had left.

“Grace!”

The moment his outstretched hand touched my shoulder, the mirror gave way. It shattered, exploding into a spray of tiny shards.

The foul, heavy wrongness hanging over the area vanished in an instant. Just like that, I realized I had done it.

“Thank…goodness.”

My voice had all but left me. Relief washed through me, and with it, my strength drained all at once. I felt myself tipping backward until Zane’s hand caught me, steady and gentle, keeping me from hitting the ground. His face came into view above me.

He looked…so sad.

“Why did you…do this?” he asked, his voice breaking.

Zane was sharp. He must’ve understood exactly what I’d done the moment the mirror shattered.

My vision dimmed at the edges. The pain didn’t even feel centered anywhere anymore. My entire body burned, like it was coming apart stitch by stitch. This was bad. Worse than I’d thought. Maybe I really had overestimated myself, I thought grimly.

Zane fired a magical flare into the sky, his hand locked around mine like he was afraid I’d slip away at any second.

He said a teleportation mage would be here soon, that we’d get out right now. But all I could think was,What good would that do? The Corruption was already tearing through me. Without a Saint, I didn’t stand a chance.

Still, I didn’t say any of that. I just tried to curl my fingers around his. Only my fingertips moved.

His golden eyes wavered before, finally, he broke and pressed his face into my shoulder.

“I can’t…imagine a life without you anymore,” he rasped. The sound was so thin, so fragile. As if it might simply unravel in the air between us.

But it didn’t. It reached me. And as it did, a tear traced its way down my cheek.

Because in that moment, the truth settled in.

Zane…still loved me.

I was so happy and relieved that I didn’t stand a chance after that.

There was no outrunning it anymore.

As if there ever was.

Zane had always had my heart.

Always. And forever.

And then—

A sudden flare of gold burst across the darkness, sharp enough that my eyes squeezed shut on instinct.

A gasp left Zane. “What is this…light?”

So he had no idea either.

But the light was warm and kind. It enveloped me, cocooned me in softness, and before I knew it, I had surrendered to it completely.

Bit by bit, the brilliance thinned. The warmth receded. And I noticed…something strange about my body.

“How…?” I whispered, lifting my arm.

There was no pain, no dark marks—nothing. Completely gone, as if the whole thing had been nothing but a bad dream.

I didn’t understand what had happened—what that light had been. But for some reason, I felt utterly certain of one thing: “It…looks like I’m going to be all right.”

I found enough strength to give Zane a faint smile.

The moment he saw it, something in him crumpled. He pulled me tight against his chest, holding me like he feared I might vanish again. His arms trembled. That quiet, barely-there shake cinched tight around my heart.

Just how terrified had he been?

“Promise me…you won’t ever do anything like that again,” Zane murmured.

“I’m…sorry,” I said, the words slipping out on a faint, weary smile.

Such relief… Now it was Zane’s warmth and scent that enveloped me. My vision wavered, blurring at the edges before it twisted and turned.

…Ah.

Not good.

I’d hit both my magical and physical limits. This was it.

“Grace? Grace?! Graaaace!!!”

I’m sorry. I’m all right. Thank you.

All the things I meant to say.

But none of them made it past my lips before the darkness pulled me under.

Chapter 7: What the Heart Wants

Chapter 7: What the Heart Wants

“UGH…” I groaned weakly, my eyes fluttering open to a fancy yet unfamiliar ceiling.

Fancy not in the gaudy, Grace Saintsbury sense, but in a more understated, quiet, and sophisticated sense. My head felt stuffed with fog, as though I’d been asleep for days. Testing my limbs, I tried to lift my right arm, only to find it pinned by something firm and warm.

“You’re…awake.”

The “something” spoke. I turned my head and found Zane seated beside me, his hand wrapped around mine. He looked as pale as death; a raw, weary redness was beneath his eyes.

My mind cleared bit by bit. The memories of the forest returned, and with them came the realization that I was now in the Winslet Estate.

I pushed myself upright and turned toward him.

“Sorry” was the first thing I said.

I didn’t even know which part I meant anymore. Hurting him over and over with those break-up attempts. Acting recklessly to save him. Making him worry himself sick. Any of it. All of it.

But seeing him here, alive and whole, washed everything else away. Relief loosened my chest, and I managed a faint smile. “I’m glad…to see you unharmed, My Lord Duke.”

The next moment, there was a tug on my arm, and before I could register what was happening, I found myself pressed against Zane’s chest.

“You really are impossible,” he murmured. “I meant to be angry with you. But the moment I saw you wake, it all just…fell away.” His worry was written in every part of him: the faint tremor in his voice, the way he held me with a fierceness that bordered on desperation. “The physician said you’d be fine. But until you opened your eyes and spoke, none of it eased me.”

He told me I’d been unconscious for two full days. And seeing the state he was in, the thought struck me with a sharp pang of guilt: he likely hadn’t slept a single minute of that time.

He said I was completely healthy. Physically, at least. That should’ve been impossible after taking in that much Corruption. But my body did feel almost impossibly light, as if nothing had ever touched it.

I couldn’t help thinking of that strange golden light.

“Evan!” I suddenly remembered. “Is— Is… Is he all right?!”

“He is perfectly fine,” Zane assured me. “He protected you until the very end. I’ve already explained everything to Marquess Saintsbury. You’re here because I asked that you recover in my home.”

He asked, did he? Even so, a part of me balked. My father, dotingly overprotective as he was, was letting me out of his sight and into another man’s estate so easily? That didn’t sound like him at all.

My doubt must’ve been written all over my face, because Zane’s eyes softened, his smile turning warm and almost blinding. “When I told him I meant to marry you, he agreed almost too easily. He said I wasn’t like the unreliable men you’d brought home before and that with me, he could finally rest easy about his daughter’s future.”

I… Hm??????

All right, yes, I could follow most of that. Grace’s former “partners” were hardly paragons of stability. Father absolutely knew Zane Winslet’s brilliance and reputation, and I could understand why he’d trust me with someone like him. But still—

“M-M-M…Marriage?”

The word flew out before I could stop it. My shock was impossible to hide. This was sudden. More than sudden. This was the first time the M-word had ever left Zane’s mouth.

“Is it that surprising?” he asked calmly. “It’s a bridge we’ll have to cross sooner or later, isn’t it?”

And to Zane, it was something akin to an inevitability?! The shock would not stop climbing.

“B-B-B-But we haven’t talked at all these past few months. A-A-And I saw you kiss Charlotte!”

“I didn’t reach out because it would’ve broken our promise. And what’s this about a kiss?”

“The night of the ball,” I forced out. “You and Lady Charlotte were in the garden. I saw you in each other’s arms…sharing a kiss.”

The memory still stung, hot and bitter, as I voiced it. But Zane simply let out a quiet “ah,” then nodded as if a puzzle piece had clicked into place.

“What you saw was Lady Charlotte being very drunk. She could barely stand. I was helping her stay upright, nothing more.”

“What?”

His expression settled into something steady, unmovable. Not a hint of guilt. Not even a flicker. “There’s nothing going on between us,” he said. “And I don’t think anything of her.”

And just like that, the doubt unraveled. Of course it did. Zane was never one to lie in the first place.

“Then it was all just a…big misunderstanding?” I murmured.

“Yes,” he said. So confidently, so quickly, that I shrank away. Had I really just fallen for something so painfully cliché?

But then I replayed it in my head: Charlotte’s expression, the angle I’d seen them from, the whole messy setup. Anyone would’ve drawn the same conclusion. Even Lanhart had. So it couldn’t just have been me being dumb.

Still…if Zane feels nothing for Charlotte, what about her? I’m certain she can’t say the same. The thought flickered and then was swept away by a wave of relief so large it nearly knocked the breath out of me, despite myself. Despite the situation having regressed for me again.

“Never did I imagine you would have seen me there,” Zane said, completely earnestly. “And…if you truly believed I had feelings for Lady Charlotte, I’m shocked. You know I’ve only ever had eyes for you.”

My chest thudded so hard I couldn’t speak.

Then he leaned in just a little closer. “Besides, if anyone should’ve been hurt that night, it was me. Seeing you in the arms of Lanhart Gardner.”

“Y-Y-You… What?!”

He’d seen us? There? Not in a thousand years would I have…

But yes. It had been dark. And from a distance, with me pressed up against Lanhart at my most vulnerable, it would’ve looked exactly like what it wasn’t.

“Here I was respecting—no, tolerating—our agreement,” he went on, “only for you to stab me in the back.”

“N-No! It wasn’t like that! I was just crying, and because Lanhart was right there, I—” I gasped. Suddenly realized what I was admitting to.

Too late. Far too late. Zane’s eyes flicked wide for a heartbeat…then his mouth curved into a wicked little smile.

“And why,” Zane asked, “would you be crying on a night like that, in a place like that?”

“B-Because that was for…”

I knew exactly why. I just couldn’t let him know why.

“It had nothing to do with you, Your Grace!”

I know, I know. I sounded ridiculous. But no other excuse would come. My mind was a blank, useless mess.

Zane’s smile only sharpened. “Nothing to do with me…when you love me so much you’d cry over me?”

My breath hitched. Heart kicked. That smile, like he was seeing straight through me… I needed to deny it. But I couldn’t find the words.

“Y-You’re wrong…”

“I am not,” he said, cutting clean through my whisper. “You cried because you thought you were losing me. Because you thought you saw me holding another girl…and putting my mouth on her, isn’t that so?”

“N-No. No…”

My heart might as well have been dangling plainly on my sleeve. But I still tried to deny him. If I didn’t, everything would crumble. If I admitted it, there’d be no going back. I’d lose every last bit of willpower I had to play my role.

But the other voice, my honest voice, was screaming too loudly now.

I couldn’t keep denying it.

I didn’t want to keep denying it.

My eyes stung. Tears welled up.

“Grace.”

Please don’t look at me with those molten, golden eyes.

Please don’t say my name with such reverence, such care…

Or else, I’ll…

I’ll…!

The feelings swelled too fast to hold: joy, fear, relief, heartbreak. All of it boiling together until the tears started spilling, quietly but uncontrollably.

I reached for Zane’s hand—his large, warm, beloved hand—and clung to it. He simply closed his fingers around mine, gentle and sure, as if to say, I’m here. It’s all right.

“Y-You can’t be with me…” I sobbed. “If you do…bad things…will happen…”

I didn’t know why the words started there. Zane had every reason to be confused. But he only held my gaze, steady and unwavering, waiting for me to go on, patient the way you’d soothe a frightened child.

“To the people I love…the people you love… Me… My life will be in danger. Th-That’s why…I’ve been trying so hard…to leave you.” The more I tried to swallow the tears, the harder they came. Zane brushed them away each time with a soft, steady touch. “A-A-And you… Y-Y-Your Grace…”

My voice broke.

“Your happiness isn’t w-with me… It’s with… another…”

He still said nothing—just listened. His warm hand in mine. His gaze, so intense yet kind. His face softened with a tenderness that was undoing me piece by piece. And before I realized it, I was crying aloud. I was loud, messy, and utterly ungraceful.

“I just…wanted you to be happy,” I choked out. “So I tried…s-s-so hard. But if you do this to me—”

“Mm-hm.”

“If you treat me the way you’re treating me right now…” The words dissolved into a wail. “I won’t be able to give you the happy ending you deserve!”

And that was it.

I broke. Piercing, ugly, snotty sobbing and all. I couldn’t stop any of it.

I had finally told him the truth, and I didn’t regret it. How could I? These were my real, unvarnished feelings, exactly as they were now. I loved him so dearly, and he cared for me so deeply, that the idea of ever letting go of his hand again filled me with a fierce, terrified refusal.

“You kind, kind soul…” Zane murmured. “You’ve been carrying that all this time, haven’t you?”

A warbled, choked cry was all I managed.

“Thank you for carrying that,” he whispered.

For the first time, I let myself reach around him—truly reach—my arm sliding across the broad, steady back of the man I loved beyond words. The moment I touched him like that, a wave of warmth crashed through me: joy, safety, and affection overflowing.

He drew me in tighter in return, his embrace closing completely around me, until not the slightest bit of distance remained between us. “But you know something, Grace?” Zane murmured. “No one gets to decide what my happiness looks like except me.”

Something in me lifted at those words. It felt as though I’d been living with a lead weight on my chest, and it had suddenly lifted.

For you see, that beloved line I’d recited time and time again from the novel—Just being able to be by your side, that is my greatest happiness—had chained me down more than I ever realized. I’d clung to it so tightly, convinced that unless he said those exact words to Charlotte, he could never be truly happy. That I could never be the one to give him that.

“So what if bad things happen?” he continued. “If you’re with me, I’ll face whatever comes.”

That made my chest clench hard.

I had always, always held back. Told myself a side character like me had no right to reach for someone so radiant and dazzling… But the truth was far simpler. From the moment I first laid eyes on Zane Winslet, I’d been hopelessly and helplessly captivated.

“I…love you.” My voice trembled. In this life or the last, it was the first time I’d ever spoken those words aloud. “I love you, Zane. With all my heart. I always, always—”

I never reached the end. Zane’s hand slid to the back of my head and pulled me forward, the world blurring in a rush, my unfinished words swallowed by…

The shape of his lips. His mouth pressed firmly to mine.

The first time he’d kissed me, not on the cheek, not on the neck, but on the lips.

My mind went white.

He tilted his head, and the kiss deepened—slowly, intensely. I didn’t know how to breathe like this, so I simply didn’t, holding that breath and that feeling until at last we parted. I opened my eyes with a gasp.

And there they were. Those molten, golden eyes. Closer than ever.

He brushed another tear from my cheek and smiled sweetly.

“I love you too, Grace. I truly do.”

The joy hit me so hard it almost hurt. I was so overwhelmed I could only cry.

And then when he went and finished me off with, “You mean so much to me. More than you know…” My tears had no hope of stopping.

✶✶✶

AFTER that long, ugly cry, I must’ve drifted right back to sleep. By morning, the doctor gave me another check-up—still nothing wrong—before I settled in to read the letters that had been forwarded from home.

My father’s came first, the whole page scrawled with worry and concern. Then I opened the one from Yanna and Haniwa. She wrote that the restaurant was running just fine and that I didn’t need to fret. At the very end was a little muddy stamp, something like a tiny handprint from Haniwa, which tugged an amused smile out of me.

Then there was one from Lanhart.

“You really are a kind man at heart, aren’t you?” I murmured, my chest softening, my eyes growing hot as I read through his careful lines, asking after my health, telling me not to worry about what happened in the carriage, and ending with a small prayer that things would unfold the way I hoped. He was clearly trying to ease any guilt I might’ve held for ditching him mid-date. Truly, he was a gentleman through and through.

I wrote him back a heartfelt letter, thanking him for everything, and sent it off to be posted. Even after that day, I still felt like I owed him. I found myself wondering how I might repay his kindness someday.

After sorting through the letters and getting dressed, my first order of business was to find Mariabelle.

“I’m so, so, so glad everything worked out!” she cried, eyes shining.

“Sorry for making you worry, Mariabelle. And…thank you.”

I couldn’t tell her everything that had transpired for obvious reasons, but I told her that my and Zane’s relationship had officially gone back to normal, starting now. Naturally, she was over the moon about it. Her joy was my joy. After all, by now, she was my little sister in everything but blood.

“I love you, Big Sister!”

“And I love you too, Mariabelle.”

Next came the hard part—spending more time with her than ever to make up for what we’d lost.

Just kidding. In what world would that be hard?

After lunch, Evan made an appearance at the Winslet Estate.

He marched straight toward me, arms crossed, a scowl darkening his face, so I did the natural thing and immediately dropped to my knees and bowed so low my forehead touched the floor. “My sincerest apologies!” I blurted.

I mean, could you blame me? I’d never seen him show even a speck of anger before.

“Are… Are you angry at me?” I ventured.

“Of course I am!” he shot back. “Don’t ever—ever ‘command’ me in a moment like that ever again! I had no choice but to obey and just stand there, you know?”

I wilted. “S-Sorry… I understand. But thank you, Evan.”

“You’re very welcome!”

I could easily imagine the frustration and helplessness he felt in that moment. What I’d said back then couldn’t be undone now… So accepting his anger felt only fair.

After a moment, Evan sank down before me, lifting his gaze to meet mine. “I’m here to protect you, aren’t I, milady? Let me.”

“Evan…”

Those gentle, steady words hit me square in the chest. Right then, I swore to myself I’d never put him in an impossible position like that again.

“But actually,” Evan said as he stood, “giving you a piece of my mind was only part of why I came.” He drew a dainty, charming little envelope from his breast pocket. “The real reason was to give you this.”

But…hadn’t I just finished reading everything forwarded from home? Evan explained that this one had arrived right after the batch had already gone out, and he felt it couldn’t wait.

What could be so urgent? I tilted my head, took the envelope, and my breath vanished the moment I saw the sender.

“From…Charlotte Clive?”

My heart thudded hard as I eased it open.

It was an invitation to a tea party at the Clive Estate. For me. Which made no sense whatsoever. I’d never so much as exchanged a single word with Charlotte, and there had been nothing like this in the original story.

✶✶✶

EVEN after Evan left, the invitation weighed on my mind as I sat there wondering what on earth I was supposed to do with it.

“What do I do…?” I murmured into the quiet.

“Do about what?” the quiet murmured back—sweet, low, and right against my ear.

“Hyah!” I yelped, flinching back.

It was Zane. So lost had I been in my thoughts that I hadn’t even noticed he’d returned from his monster-vanquishing efforts in the forest.

“W-Welcome home!” I stammered, heart still pounding.

“Yes. I’m back,” he said, then chuckled as he took off his coat. “We sound like newlyweds.”

That did not help the pounding in my chest.

He settled beside me on the sofa, then expelled a tiny, relieved breath. “The magical tool you destroyed seems to have done it. The monster surge is quieting down. The knights are driving out the last of them now.”

He went on to say there had been casualties, of course, but no deaths—something he likely couldn’t have claimed if the threat had dragged on any longer.

“Oh, thank goodness…” The words slipped out before I could help it.

“Yes. Thank goodness indeed,” Zane echoed. Only his version came with a very pointed glare.

I shrank back at once. Oh… Right…

After I woke from my coma yesterday, he’d asked the obvious question:

“Why were you there at that time? How did you know that tool was the cause?”

And all I’d done was mumble something evasive.

“Fine. You don’t have to tell me. Just promise you won’t ever do something that dangerous again.”

I wouldn’t. Not if I could help it. Unless some miraculous golden light swooped in to save me again. Speaking of that golden light…what even was it?

I was still stuck on the crises of days past…until the present one finally clawed its way into focus. “Um…you’re very close, Your Grace.”

“You must be imagining things,” he murmured, far too near to be denying anything.

“I really don’t think I am,” I said, giving a pointed look at the hand cinched firmly around my waist.

We were touching everywhere. Naturally, that meant Zane’s obscenely perfect face was nestled right against mine, close enough that his breath brushed the tip of my ear. My poor, overworked heart was begging for mercy.

It was already a miracle that I could even hold a conversation with him like this after my ugly-cry confession without wanting to crawl into a hole and expire from embarrassment.

I just wished he’d stop trying to take a league after that mile…

“Do you have any idea,” he growled, “of what you put me through? Three months of keeping myself in check—barely. Then you go and let a man like Lanhart Gardner anywhere near you when you were already mine. Tell me…were you doing it just to test me?”

“I… I truly am sorry about that…” He smiled, but the pressure behind it was enough to form diamonds. I scrambled for the first topic shift I could reach. “W-Well, since I know now there’s nothing going on between you and Charlotte, that only raises another question: why did you even agree to my request for distance in the first place?”

“Ah.” The edge in him softened. It melted into something impossibly gentle as he rested his head against my shoulder. “The truth is…I’ve been to dine at your restaurant.”

I blinked. “You’ve been to dine at my—what?!”

How was that even possible? On the days I wasn’t there myself, I never heard a single rumor, not even a whisper, of someone anywhere near Zane’s standing setting foot inside!

Wait a moment.

Had I ever even told Zane about my restaurant?

No. I was sure I’d guarded that secret with my life!

Though once I took a breath and calmed down, I had to admit a man with an intelligence network capable of tracking me to every far-flung place I tried to steal away to probably would know I had a restaurant in a major city.

“Wh-When?” I managed.

“The day of your soft opening.”

“What? But I was working there that day, and I didn’t—”

“You did. We even had a conversation.”

“No, we didn’t.”

“Yes, we did.”

What in the blatant gaslighting was this?

Ignoring my growing disbelief, Zane continued matter-of-factly, “Alfred and I went together. You don’t remember?”

“Alfre—? Who in the world is that?”

“I believe you know him by the affectionate moniker ‘Al.’”

“Al! Wait—Al was short for Alfred all this time?!”

I’d known him for more than a passing amount of time by now, and Al had always just been, well, Al! He’d never been one to talk about himself, so I’d simply never asked.

Zane went on to divulge that he’d borrowed a rare magical tool from the king that allowed him to change his appearance to visit the restaurant in disguise that day.

“Still, what a coincidence that the two of you would be acquainted wi—”

My voice cut off as the realization hit. That terrible, terrible realization.

All this time, I’d welcomed Al into my home, thinking he was nothing more than a Grace Saintsbury fan. I’d served him tea. I’d blabbed about everything under the sun in front of him… The dots connected, one after another, and when the full picture came into view, my blood turned to ice.

“D-Don’t tell me… Al…told you…everything?”

Zane nodded. “You’re far too trusting. And I know I’m the last person who should say that, considering I’m the one who sicced Alfred on you, but you really shouldn’t let a man you barely know into your home, much less share all your secrets with him.”

“H-Hold on. What do you mean, ‘sicced him on me’?”

“Alfred is an intelligence operative I hired. You really had no idea?”

“Intelligence…operative…”

Zane elaborated: Al—that boyish boy, the king of boys—was actually an exceptionally skilled intelligence agent who’d even performed covert work for royal families before. The fact that Evan had sensed his presence at all was absurdly impressive; under normal circumstances, it should’ve been impossible to detect him.

Al was quite senior in his organization, which suddenly made his smug little attitude make a disturbing amount of sense…

“I let a mole into my house… A mole…” I whispered, hollow.

When I thought about everything I’d said behind what I thought were closed doors, only for Zane to have known it all along, I wanted to crumple right there and die. But…it did explain a few things.

“That’s why you caught me in the middle of an affair and didn’t even react!” I blurted. “You knew it was a sham from the start!”

“That’s correct,” he said. “Though not completely. Even knowing it was pretend, catching you in the act sent a rush of blood to my head.”

“And you tracked me down no matter where I tried to run off to because…”

“Because I always knew where you were going. And the third time you disappeared, it wasn’t just Alfred. I hired a whole team. Every carriage driver on your route was already paid off by me.”

I had no words. Only the crushing realization that I’d been hopelessly naïve to think I could ever outsmart Zane. I hadn’t been fleeing. I’d been running on a treadmill while he stood there watching.

Not to mention all that money…wasted.

But…even so…

Zane really did think the world of me, didn’t he? Far more than I’d ever understood.

“At any rate,” he went on. “I figured there had to be a reason behind everything you did. That suspicion became a conviction the moment I saw you at your restaurant. So I accepted your request for distance.”

Warmth flooded my chest at the depth of trust in his voice. And, at the same time, more pieces fell neatly into place. All those comments “Al’s friend” made about being good at finding me, about me never ceasing to amaze him… That strange familiarity I’d felt from the start, the ease with which I’d shared so much…

It all made sense. It had been Zane from the very beginning.

“Any other questions?” Zane asked.

“Um…”

I had mountains upon mountains of questions, surely, but none were occurring to me at the moment. I fell silent for a beat. And then, without warning, Zane slipped a finger under my chin, guiding it up. In an instant, our faces were a breath apart.

“Wh-What are you doing…?” I breathed.

“Touching the one I love,” he murmured. “As is my right.”

He gave me a devastating smile steeped in confidence and then brushed a soft kiss against my cheek. The gentleness of it set my skin alight. A tiny, helpless sound escaped me, which only made Zane laugh under his breath.

“How adorable. I love you, Grace.”

Too sweet. All of it was too sweet. My whole body felt as if it had been dipped in heat.

“Oh, how I’ve wanted to see you…to touch you,” he crooned, his hands sliding along my face, then tracing down my neck in slow, reverent strokes, as though making sure I was real.

The fever crawling through me reached even my fingertips. I couldn’t look at his face directly, not when he was this close, this intent.

“A-All right, but you’re even closer than usual.” My voice was fraying. “This isn’t… This isn’t like you.”

“Consider me riding a high,” he said softly, leaning in just a fraction more. “On account of my hearing you say you loved me.”

Joy unfurled in my chest. But right behind it, something pulled tight. For all the happiness Zane felt now… How much hurt must he have carried during those months when I kept pushing him away?

Pain and distress. All of it caused by me.

Had he approached me now and declared he wished to break things off, or that he’d finally had enough and would leave me behind… I wouldn’t have handled it with even a shred of the grace he had shown me. Not even close.

But he had borne it. He’d respected my feelings—respected me—far more than I had ever given him credit for. And that knowledge only made my love for him swell, deepen, and solidify into something fierce. A resolve to give him double the affection I had once starved him of.

Almost without thinking, my hand drifted up into his silvery hair.

“I love you, Zane. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

His golden eyes went wide, stunned, and held there for a beat. Not the reaction I’d expected, but then he folded into me, burying his face in the crook of my neck and shoulder.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “Oh, I’m so happy.”

So childlike. So familiar. So achingly dear.

To see the regal, composed Zane crumble into this soft, unguarded state just for me filled me with warmth and regret. Regret that I hadn’t been honest with him from the beginning.

But now…I finally could be.

“I promise to never, ever run away from you again,” I whispered.

With that, I let it all go: the endless game of cat and mouse with Zane; the obsession with the storyline of Holy Maiden, Fated Knight; and the role I thought I had to play. I cast every bit of it behind me.

Plenty of trouble waited for us down the line. Saying I felt ready for all of it would’ve been a bald-faced lie. But what I could vow was this: I would protect my happiness. Fight for it. Because that, at last, was what truly mattered.

“Grace.”

Zane’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

“Yes? Mmph!”

His mouth met mine before I finished the word.

Soft kisses like nibbles. Warmth wrapping around me. My favorite scent everywhere.

“I’m so happy,” Zane breathed, the words slipping out warm and hazy.

My chest swelled, my throat constricted, and my eyes stung.

My one wish—my first wish—would always remain the same: for Zane to be happy.

But now I held a conviction deeper than that. Whatever storms came for us, whatever troubles lay ahead, we would meet them together. As long as I was with my beloved, I would overcome. I believed that with my whole heart.

“And I, as well,” I whispered back. “I, as well.”

He smiled at me then—unguarded, boyish, utterly sincere—and to me, it felt like the greatest blessing the world could offer. Leaning in, I met him halfway, letting that smile soften against my lips as I tasted happiness all over again.

Afterword

Afterword

HELLO, everyone. Kotoko here. Thank you so much for your purchase of Breaking Up Was the Plan, the Duke Falling for the Villainess Was Not! Volume 2.

Volume 1 ended on a note where it seemed like Grace and Zane’s romance was just about to begin. So I worried myself into a stomachache, thinking I wouldn’t get to continue the story…and what would you know. A reprint of the first and a second volume. Thanks to all of you, of course. You all saved my life. Thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

If volume 1 was all about Grace throwing herself at Zane, volume 2 is all about her desperately trying to get away. I enjoyed every moment of writing it.

Lanhart ended up a far better man than I’d imagined, which caused me some amount of anguish, while Little Haniwa turned out far cuter than I expected. As for Evan, he proved, much to my grateful surprise, far more amusing than I’d planned.

Interesting aside: in the first volume’s afterword, I referred to Zane as a true-blue, classic-style hero… That earned me a surprising number of “Are you joking?” and “You can’t mean that” comments. All I can say is this: maybe my fondness for writing yandere-leaning characters skewed my sense of what counts as a “classic” hero compared to everyone else’s.

Which is to say, as far as I’m concerned, Zane is a classic hero.

To Ataka-sensei, our wonderful illustrator, thank you again for your amazing work on another volume. I love it. That’s all I can say. I just love everything you did. Like, my whole life has been leading up to this moment of getting to see your illustrations, and that’s hardly an exaggeration.

/yell: Seeing these two amazingly beautiful main characters has added another ten years to my life span! I love, love, love it!

What else… I leaned on my editor far more than I’d like to admit for this volume, but every piece of advice they gave cut clean through my writer’s block like divine revelation. Thank you, truly.

And of course, a heartfelt thank-you to everyone involved in bringing this book into the world—those who worked on it and those who helped it find its way into readers’ hands.

There’s also a wonderful manga adaptation underway in Japan! Every scene is drawn with such vivid, thrilling, heart-throbbing detail. It’s a feast for the senses, and I hope you’ll give it a look.

Lastly, but never least, to you—the reader who’s come all the way to the end, who continues to support Breaking Up Was the Plan—thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I plan to keep weaving Grace and Zane’s story for a long time yet, so here’s hoping we meet again very, very soon.

Kotoko