She had always thought it: his physique was flawless.
The bangs swaying gently in the breeze, his long, downcast lashes, and those clear gray eyes; he lacked for nothing.
Had he not fallen ill, he would be wearing a sharp military uniform right now, absorbed in his books just like this.
Anasta pulled herself from the thought and stepped back.
She had no desire to disturb him. Above all, thirty minutes late on his medicine would do him no harm.
‘There are more books here than I expected.’
She let her gaze drift across the shelves.
Along the way, she spotted a novel with an intriguing title.
The book rested far too high on the shelf.
Even when she stretched onto her tiptoes, her fingertips could barely graze the spine.
As she struggled to reach it, a shadow fell over her, enveloping her completely from behind.
· · ·
Anasta’s eyes widened at the sight of a long arm reaching out past her side.
“Is this the one?”
The moment she turned her head, her gaze locked with Ryan’s, standing mere inches away.
· · ·
· · ·
Catching sight of his lips so close before her, Anasta hastily dropped her eyes.
Her heart gave a slight flutter; perhaps it was simply because she had been out of human company for so long.
A stretch of silence hung between them.
Anasta was about to speak, parting her lips, when she noticed the curious title of the book tucked under his arm. “Are you reading… military strategy?”
“What?”
“The book.”
Come to think of it, ever since their last dinner, Ryan had spent a great deal of time reading military science and leadership theory.
She suddenly remembered how he had asked if he could attend the military parade taking place two days from now.
“The military parade you mentioned earlier—what kind of event is it?”
“…Nothing of consequence. Just a festival.”
“I am an Imperial subject as well. I know full well it is far more than that.”
“If you already know, why ask?”
“I have only heard about it, but never seen it myself. And I heard you were the flagbearer there, were you not?”
A faint laugh slipped from Ryan at Anasta’s earnest expression, her genuine desire to hear the details of the celebration plain to see.
“I could not say so during dinner, but isn’t that truly remarkable?”
“Well, perhaps.”
“I am curious.”
Anasta waited for his answer, her eyes bright.
“…The Emperor and high officials attend. After the banquet, the parade begins amid the blessings and pride of the people. The festivities go on for an entire week. The Military Academy descends into days of wild uproar, too.”
“Days of wild uproar?”
“Living under such strict discipline all year, they are given a week of freedom. Everyone breaks loose from their restraints. They throw drinking parties, dance, meet women—”
“And you, Sir? What did you do?”
“I did not meet women.”
He answered firmly, then hastily added more so it wouldn’t sound as though he were defending himself.
“I wandered the Capital. If you cross past the bank and turn onto Third Street in Langder, there is a place that makes delicious pumpkin soup. I enjoyed eating there.”
· · ·
“I also spoke with the generals who visited the Academy. Lord Gregory in particular taught me a great deal. Ah, and that pumpkin soup shop I mentioned—Lord Gregory was the one who introduced me to it. He said he stops by every time he comes to Langder.”
For a moment, Anasta thought of Natasha, who had always said she wanted to become a nun.
Whenever Natasha spoke of her dreams, her face would light up and her words would tumble out like a woman dreaming of love.
Anasta had watched her sister and prayed with all her heart that Natasha’s dream would come true.
And now, the very same thing was happening.
Watching Ryan so absorbed in his recollections, she felt a desire to support his dream.
“Young Master.”
“What.”
“Would you like to go to the parade?”
Ryan’s eager tone cut short, and he froze.
“I have no desire to see Lord Gregory in this state. But…”
“But?”
“I want to have the pumpkin soup.”
“The pumpkin soup you just mentioned?”
Anasta looked at Ryan, who seemed genuinely hungry for the taste.
It was an unfamiliar dish to her, but if Ryan spoke of it with such fondness, it had to be delicious. Her curiosity deepened.
“I want to try that soup as well. Let us go.”
“What?”
Ryan blinked in bewilderment, then scoffed.
“And how would we do that? Will you smash another window like last time?”
“Yes.”
Normally, he would have dismissed such an answer as a joke and brushed it aside.
Except Anasta was the sort of person who did what she said.
“I will find a way other than breaking windows.”
Ryan stared at her, mesmerized.
“…Do as you please.”
“Truly?”
The corners of her mouth curved upward at his reply.
“…Just don’t be reckless enough to get yourself thrown out.”
“Pardon? I didn't quite catch that.”
“Nothing.”
Ryan hurried out of the library to hide his expression.
Afterward, Anasta sank into thought.
She had boldly declared she would find a way out, but escaping a wing watched closely by the maids and the head butler was no simple feat.
“Did you hear?”
The voices of two maids cleaning the hallway reached her ears.
Normally, she would have walked past without paying attention, but now Anasta’s ears perked up.
“They say Mr. Duran has fallen for Lasollette.”
“Goodness, he barely just returned. Already?”
“It was only for a short while, they say. Mr. Duran hates being tied down. Remember how he used to slip out of the mansion and stay away for over a week when we were at the old residence?”
“Without getting caught? Is that even possible?”
‘Truly…’
Anasta agreed silently.
“Mr. Duran has a brilliant mind for such things. For all we know, he’s still slipping in and out in secret right now.”
Anasta shut her door softly so the maids wouldn’t notice her presence.
‘Leaving the mansion for a week without getting caught,’ Anasta considered the sheer feasibility of it.
Duran Soltaire.
A master of escape, then.
It was enticing information, but asking Duran directly could prove exceedingly dangerous.
Even now, she was careful to avoid confronting him alone.
Then she suddenly remembered Natasha.
Natasha, who had tried so cleverly to win over their parents just to find a chance for the two of them to live on their own.
In the end, she had been sold off before ever finding a way.
Had she rebelled against their parents and done whatever she wished, she might not be searching for her so desperately now.
· · ·
‘I want to give Ryan what he wishes for…’
Having made up her mind, Anasta opened her door to seek out a path.
“This is atrocious.”
Duran let out a sneering chuckle at the private tutor’s scathing critique.
Only two days had passed since his succession lessons began, and not a single shred of progress was in sight.
“I did my best.”
“There is not one correct thing here.”
“What a pity.”
Duran answered in a tone entirely devoid of concern.
The tutor sighed at his irresponsible conduct and words.
Had his posture at least been polite, the criticism might have been softer, but Duran always countered with glib deflections to gloss over his flaws whenever he was evaluated.
“Did you finish all the assignments I gave you?”
“Don't you think the workload is far too heavy?”
“To become a duke, you must absorb far more than this.”
“I did them anyway.”
Duran held out the pages he had written.
Despite his poor attitude, he hadn’t truly been slacking off.
He had gripped a quill the entire day, writing reports, studying, and working through calculations.
The problem was that the results were invariably disappointing.
The tutor flipped through the sheets one by one, then sighed as if there were no need to look any further.
“Dreadful.”
“Did you just turn back the clock? I feel like I heard that exact sentence a moment ago.”
“This is even worse.”
“I put special effort into that one.”
“There are grammatical errors right from the start. And furthermore, did you even understand the classical texts? You have written mere delusions.”
“It was a humanities text. No one could digest it in two days.”
“Lord Ryan read this book when he was sixteen and produced a five-page commentary. Every single sentence was a literary gem.”
At the mention of Ryan, Duran’s relaxed expression hardened instantly.
“Don’t you ever tire of making that comparison every single time?”
“This is entirely for the sake of the Soltaire family, and for your own, Sir.”
‘Of course he would say that.’
Duran’s furrowed brow did not ease. No matter how much effort he poured in, it always ended in “Ryan, Ryan.”
To hell with Ryan Soltaire.
Even though the position of heir had fallen to him, not a single person in the Soltaire family was satisfied with it.
Every time it happened, a suffocating tightness seized Duran’s chest.
‘Still, things are better now.’
What had he been before Ryan fell ill? Completely invisible.
Though both were sons of the Duke and close in age, he had been met with contempt while Ryan was revered; he had been despised while Ryan was endlessly adored.
—“Brother.”
—“…”
—“Brother!”
Duran rose from his chair, recalling how Ryan used to ignore his calls and turn a cold shoulder.
“I will rewrite the assignment.”
“Aside from that, Sir, do not doodle on the back of your assignment sheets.”
“Didn’t I draw it well? I believe I outclass my brother by leaps and bounds when it comes to drawing.”
“Sir.”
“Ah, fine, I understand. I won't draw anymore. The next lesson is in an hour, correct?”
“Where are you going this time? You said you would finish the assignments.”
“Just taking a short walk.”
‘Finally, some air.’
Stepping outside, Duran swept his bangs back.
The cold wind washed away his frustration, yet it failed to soothe the heavy knot in his chest.
At times like these, Duran thought of women.
A woman who would fill the void of his desires with seductive whispers and share his bed had always been a sanctuary for him.
Yet there were no women in this estate. Those who were around were maids, and most were either too old, far too young, or simply not pretty enough to seduce.
Ah, that maid Lasollette wasn’t bad, but he had turned her down because he was busy trying to entice Anasta.
‘Nothing is going right.’
In any case, Anasta likely wouldn’t show up today either.
Given that she had left his letters unanswered, it was plain she was avoiding him entirely.
‘Should I just drop by the annex out of nowhere?’ While Duran, slouched on a bench in the greenhouse with his legs stretched out, contemplated causing some mischief—
“I see you are reading Bolter’s economics.”
“Aaargh!”
Duran let out a startled yelp at the voice coming from behind him.
“My apologies for startling you. I was merely curious about the book.”
“My Lady?”
Duran looked at Anasta, then down at the economics book in his hand.
He had only brought it along because his tutor insisted he carry reading material during his walk; it meant nothing to him.
Yet Anasta seemed intensely interested in it.
“It appears to be quite difficult.”
“…Well, perhaps.”
“May I take a look?”
‘You can take the whole thing.’
Unlike Duran, who detested books, the contents seemed to captivate Anasta so thoroughly that she could not tear her gaze from the print.
“Is it enjoyable?”
Unable to wait any longer, Duran asked, and Anasta finally lifted her head.
“I don't understand a single word of it.”
“Hahaha.”
‘How can someone be so blunt?’
Duran burst out laughing.
END
