‘Has this woman finally lost her mind?’
He had suspected a touch of madness in her, but she seemed to have abandoned reason altogether.
Anasta, for her part, looked subtly relieved, gazing upon the ruined pane with a faint smile.
Not content to stop there, she proceeded to smash the remaining windows with her crutch.
“How refreshing.”
“Are you insane?”
“With the glass entirely shattered, no one can use this room today. That suits me well; I was rather fond of disliking it anyway.”
“And that warranted breaking the windows?”
“As far as I recall, you have smashed them quite a few times yourself.”
Anasta brought to mind Ryan’s conduct when she had first arrived, how he shattered the panes with a cold gaze that bespoke habitual habit.
“I certainly did,”
he replied, his tone laden with disbelief.
“Yet this antics of yours is utterly pointless.”
“Why is that?”
“Because the servants of this household possess great skill in futile chores. They will replace those broken panes before the day ends.”
“Then shattering the windows alone will not suffice.”
Anasta reached out toward him. “Let us run away, Young Master.”
Ryan stared at her back.
When he had first laid eyes on her, he thought her a mere sheltered maiden traded off in a marriage arrangement, yet now she proved to be a brazen, unpredictable creature.
He never cared for such women, finding them tiresome at best, yet bizarrely enough, he was following her right out through the broken frame.
His motive was hardly grand; just as she had said, he loathed staying on the ground floor, and he wanted nothing more than to spite the head maid and the butler who had moved him against his will.
‘How long has it been since I stepped out like this?’
The moment the crisp winter air swept over him, an invigorating chill washed away the anger that had been seething in his chest.
“So, where do you plan on going now?”
Ryan asked, casting an eye on the ringleader of this little escapade.
“I have no intention of venturing far. A stroll to look around will be enough.”
“Look at what?”
“The garden. Perhaps you scarcely notice because you live here every day, but the Soltaire garden is breathtaking.”
“You dragged me out of that room just to look at flowers?”
Ryan scoffed.
“I would have loved to visit the city, but doing so would truly get me thrown out.”
Ryan was dumbfounded by this woman who fretted over being cast out even while pulling off a stunt worthy of immediate expulsion.
Yet it did not truly bother him.
He turned his eyes toward the sky. That vast expanse, unseen since the day he fell alongside Anasta, spread out today without a single cloud, pristine and pure.
“Hah…”
Ryan let out a slow exhale, watching the hazy breath mist into the cold.
Like an entranced child, he stared at the vanishing vapor and reached out to catch it in his hand.
The air was bitter enough to prick his skin, yet the palm touched by his warm breath felt faintly soft.
In that brief instant, Ryan felt unmistakably alive.
“My word, there is another garden over here.”
Anasta pointed toward a sprawling garden just past the annex.
It was carpeted in blooming pink cyclamens.
She rushed toward them like a girl, sinking down to stroke the petals, looking for a fleeting second like an innocent child.
At that moment, a maid’s cry rang out from behind. “The Young Master and the Lady are gone!”
Ryan started, the rapid thud of approaching footsteps jolting him into action as he seized Anasta by the wrist.
“Ah!”
Without the support of her crutch, Anasta stumbled and fell.
“Are you hurt?”
“My crutch…!”
“I see it, be quiet.”
“What? W-Wait a moment!”
Catching her by the waist, Ryan gathered her up against him and retrieved the crutch.
“Young Master! My Lady!”
Ryan darted behind a tree and hunched his shoulders low.
It was a pitiful concealment; his broad shoulders and long frame could barely squeeze behind the trunk.
In the end, Ryan clenched his jaw and pulled Anasta tightly against his chest.
The soft scent of her hair brushed past his nose.
“They don’t seem to be here!”
“Let’s look over that way!”
Fortunately, neither the butler nor the maid suspected the spot and hurried off in search elsewhere.
Letting out a breath he had been holding, Ryan looked down at Anasta, who remained cradled in his embrace.
‘How can someone be so light?’
Even his frail body could carry her with ease.
Her waist was so slight that an empty space remained even with his arm wrapped all the way around.
‘I really must stop eating her sweets…’
“They seem to have gone.”
“Let us wait just a little longer…”
· · ·
Their eyes met. Ryan grew flustered beneath those emerald depths observing him at such startling proximity.
“G-Get down now. You’re heavy.”
He uttered words he did not mean as he set her down upon the ground.
“Ah! My leg.”
“I-I’m sorry. …Does it hurt badly?”
“I can bear it.”
With that, a heavy silence settled between them once more.
Still mindful of the warmth where her soft cheek had pressed against his chest, Ryan squeezed his eyes shut and reopened them.
“W-What do we do now? Our garden stroll is ruined, and if we wander any further, we’ll be caught.”
“You are right. Shall we head back slowly before the trouble worsens?”
“So soon?”
The words slipped out before he could stop them, and he knit his brows, irritated with himself.
“No, I mean… Did you shatter the glass only to linger outside for five minutes?”
“Yes, for even five minutes are precious. My spirits have lifted a little; what about yours, Young Master?”
Ryan froze as Anasta raised her gaze to meet his.
‘This is the first time I have seen her so close…’
Golden hair cascading to her chest, clear pale skin, round green eyes gleaming like pearls, a neat little nose, and lips that now curved into a faint smile despite their usual reserve.
The face of that angel that had haunted his dreams flashed through his mind, flushing his cheeks crimson.
“Damn it, get away from me!”
“You must hand me my crutch first…”
“Take it!”
Ryan shoved her crutch toward her with a rough shove.
As he stepped away from the tree with a burning face, he felt something cold brush his cheek.
“Is it raining?”
“No, it is snow.”
“What?”
“The snow is falling, Young Master.”
At her words, Ryan tilted his head back.
The sky that had been pristine moments ago now drifted with snow that drifted down like scattering pollen.
His gray eyes shimmered, sparkling as though filled with stars.
‘How long has it been since I watched the snow fall?’
Though they were soon spotted by the butler and the maid while standing there mesmerized, Ryan did not flee; he merely stood welcoming those magical, beautiful flakes.
Then he looked toward the source of warmth beside him.
Anasta was there.
That lovely woman, smiling brightly for the very first time since entering this estate.
“Why on earth did you commit such reckless folly?”
In the annex dining room.
What greeted Ryan and Anasta upon their return was nothing short of a scolding from the head maid.
“This cannot go on. From now on, we shall board up the window frames with wooden planks so they cannot be broken.”
Ryan scoffed at the decree to board up the windows.
The fleeting outing had been pleasant, yet the consequences of rebellion inevitably met with extreme reprisals.
“Who was the one who ventured out first?”
Paul and the head maid both leveled sharp gazes at Anasta.
In truth, speaking honestly risked her immediate expulsion, while lying meant facing punishment under the guise of failing to protect Ryan properly.
Ryan watched with curiosity, wondering how she would answer.
“I was the one who asked to go outside.”
Anasta did not lie.
“I took the Young Master out.”
She spoke clearly, without a trace of hesitation.
“What—”
“It was merely a brief stroll. Did you not tell me yourself when I arrived that walks were permitted, Head Maid?”
“That permission applied to you alone, Miss.”
“I was never told of such a distinction.”
“Even if you were unaware, shattering the windows remains an unforgivable offense.”
“Was it not the two of you who disregarded both my wishes and the Young Master’s, moving our quarters down to the ground floor by force?”
“My Lady!”
“Since words bore no fruit, I resorted to action. I assumed you would understand better this way.”
Ryan nearly burst into laughter. Her words sounded preposterous, yet every word was true.
“You truly cannot be reasoned with. I shall report every detail of this to the Duchess.”
As the head maid turned with a hardened face to take her leave, a voice cut through the air.
“I was the one who wanted to go out.”
“Pardon?”
The head maid and Paul looked toward Ryan.
Straightening in his chair, he spoke with absolute indifference.
“You were the ones who forced me into that ground floor room. I broke the windows because I found it repulsive. The Lady only followed to stop me.”
“Why do your accounts differ?”
“The Lady is simply being meddlesome in trying to shield me. Think sensibly; would Lady Anasta be the one to smash windows, or would it be me?”
· · ·
“Do not place the blame on her. Everything happened because of your own selfish actions.”
“We did it all for the Young Master’s own good…”
“And do you truly believe this is for my sake?”
His voice was quiet and cold, yet beneath it lay an undercurrent of sharp fury.
“If you care for me in the least, return my quarters to the third floor.”
“That we cannot do. If another incident occurs like before—”
“There will be no incident.”
This time, it was Anasta who cut in.
END
