“Anasta.”
“Hey, Anasta.”
“Look over here, Anasta.”
Ryan called out to Anasta constantly.
Whenever he had business in the library, he invariably took her along, and if he caught the eye of the Head Maid or any of the servants while strolling together, he would kiss her softly.
His acting was so convincing that Anasta almost wondered if his newfound affection were genuine.
Naturally, rumors swept through the mansion that Young Master Ryan had finally opened his heart to Lady Anasta.
“It puts my mind at ease to see the two of you getting along so well.”
Paul spoke with veiled skepticism at how quickly Anasta and Ryan had drawn close.
“Does it?”
“Have you developed feelings for the lady?”
“I’m in the process of getting to know her.”
Yet Paul was a seasoned butler; his doubts were not so easily dispelled by vague answers.
“The two of you seem to cling together far too much for it to be merely that.”
“I enjoy Anasta’s company. Time simply flies when we’re together. And as you know, she is quite unpredictable.”
“That is certainly true.”
“Doesn’t that make things interesting?”
Having attended Ryan since his birth, Paul read the young master’s moods effortlessly.
He could also spot a lie just as easily.
“…I see.”
Noticing the subtle changes in Ryan over time, Paul was finally convinced as he watched the young master break into a bright smile.
Ryan was falling head over heels for Anasta.
In the end, matters had unfolded precisely as the Duchess wished.
From now on, Ryan would be compliant around Anasta, and she would tend to his illness with utter devotion.
Peace would settle over the once-tumultuous ducal mansion.
Even so, a faint seed of unease took root in Paul’s heart.
‘Will peace truly last?’ Paul remembered that Ryan did not have much time left to live.
The day of the military parade drew near.
This time, minute details circulated regarding who carried the standard and who gave the festival address.
Under normal circumstances, Ryan would have grown irritable upon hearing such talk, yet he merely read his book in silence.
His goal was not the parade itself, but the night streets after the city had gone to sleep.
“I believe you must take a contraceptive.”
Anasta, too, began preparing for their escape as soon as the sun dipped beneath the horizon.
“Ensure the young master does not exert himself unduly, and do not forget that his body is frail. Excessive excitement bodes poorly for his condition.”
The Head Maid spoke in a strictly dutiful tone, offering to fetch bathwater and scented oils.
When the Head Maid insolently asked whether she required a nightgown, Anasta shook her head in refusal.
“This is a contraceptive pill. Place it on your tongue and let it dissolve slowly.”
“Does it have any side effects?”
“It varies from person to person. You may experience chills or a wave of drowsiness.”
Anasta took the medicine and allowed it to dissolve, then opened her mouth for inspection.
Afterward, under the Head Maid’s watchful gaze, she took great care grooming herself and slipped into a sheer, flimsy gown entirely ill-suited for winter.
“Anasta.”
Once the preparations were complete, Ryan opened the adjoining door and leaned against the frame.
“Come here.”
Anasta rose slowly, taking his offered hand, and stepped lightly over the threshold.
Pulling her gently against his chest, Ryan glared coldly at the meddlesome Head Maid.
“See to it that we aren’t interrupted like last time. I intend to lock the door, so don’t come barging in as you please.”
“As you command, Young Master.”
“If you understand, get out.”
“Inform us at once if any trouble arises,” the Head Maid said curtly, her parting words before stepping out of Anasta’s room.
Click.
They were finally alone. Still holding Anasta close, Ryan scowled down at what she was wearing.
“Why are you dressed in something so thin?”
“Had I worn anything heavier, the Head Maid would have grown suspicious.”
“Even so, damn it, this is far too sheer.”
The garment was flimsy enough to expose her frame if a single layer were shed; stepping out dressed like this would surely give her a terrible cold.
“Wait here a moment.”
Ryan retrieved a heavy coat from his wardrobe and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“Pfft.”
· · ·
A chuckle escaped him; bundled in his coat, she looked like a little girl who had raided her father’s closet.
“It’s far too big.”
“Who told you to be so small? From now on, mind your own meals instead of fretting over mine. Keep eating like a bird and what little waist you have will vanish entirely.”
Gathering the coat around her, Ryan carefully adjusted the collar and cuffs.
Anasta found herself unable to look away from the gentle, attentive sweep of his hands.
“All done—”
The moment their eyes met, Ryan felt a sudden jolt deep in his chest.
They needed to slip away quickly to catch the parade, yet all he could think about was kissing her right then and there.
No, in truth, he wanted far more than a simple kiss.
He wanted to kiss her, touch her… and watch that aloof, unreadable mask slip away.
Tap!
A pebble struck the windowpane.
“…It seems everything is ready.”
Shaken back to her senses, Anasta turned away to brush aside the moment.
“Your bedroom window is locked, Young Master, so we must go through mine.”
“…Hmm, through the window? Don’t tell me you intend to jump?”
Catching sight of a maid steadying a ladder outside the window, Ryan furrowed his brow.
“You bribed her, but can she truly be trusted?”
“She was someone already susceptible to bribes before I ever approached her.”
It was the very maid who had been secretly delivering Duran’s messages.
“What do you mean by that?”
Assuring the skeptical Ryan that there was nothing to worry about, Anasta climbed down the ladder first.
Unlike Anasta, who descended briskly without hesitation, Ryan kept his eyes fixed on her until she reached the ground safely, terrified she might slip, before swiftly following her down.
Reaching the garden behind the annex—their next hurdle—proved simple enough.
The late Duchess’s garden was the only neglected corner of the estate, completely deserted and devoid of servants.
Slipping into the overgrowth, Anasta pulled back a tangle of creeping vines and offered him a faint, triumphant smile.
“This way.”
Anasta squeezed through the narrow gap first, and Ryan slipped in behind her.
They were greeted by a pitch-black wood. Leafless branches swayed back and forth like living creatures, and the frost-hardened ground was sharp underfoot.
Though separated by merely a single boundary wall, the world outside was starkly different from the Soltaire estate.
“We’ve made it out of the mansion.”
“…So it seems.”
Ryan murmured, stunned.
He was truly beyond the mansion walls.
Just like that.
‘It really is that simple.’
Playing the affectionate fiancé had been simple, too.
Kissing her, murmuring sweet words, holding her hand—everything had been so easy he couldn’t help but wonder why it had ever seemed so daunting.
‘Why did I resist so stubbornly… when it was this simple all along?’
Ryan felt like a fool.
“The hired carriage should be arriving any moment! Let’s hurry.”
Ryan quickened his pace to keep up with Anasta’s hurried steps.
Without her, he would have remained cooped up in that suffocating estate, entirely ignorant of how simple freedom could be.
For the first time, he felt a flicker of gratitude toward the Duchess for bringing Anasta to his side.
Had that not happened… had she married into another noble household…
‘No.’
There was no point entertaining such thoughts.
Anasta was his fiancée now.
Ryan took quiet solace in that undeniable truth.
The capital was alive with the festival, bustling just as Ryan had described.
The mouthwatering aroma of street food drifted through the air, mingling with the lively hum of the crowd.
“Make way, please!”
“Coming through!”
Past the city gates, the main thoroughfare was packed shoulder to shoulder with pedestrians and carriages.
Anasta took in the vibrant energy, a sensation she had not felt in far too long.
Seated quietly by the window, Ryan stiffened slightly as his gaze caught a uniform he had once worn himself.
A crisp black uniform with a golden crest pinned over the chest.
A cap pulled snug despite the warmth, and a deep navy sash around the waist.
He had returned to the festival he thought he would never witness again.
He was truly back here once more…
“The road looks completely blocked.”
“The festival streets are always like this.”
“We aren’t far from the city square. Shall we step down here?”
As the carriage door swung open, the warmth of the revelry and the brisk winter air rushed over Ryan all at once.
It felt as though he had stepped out of suspended time and back into the living world.
“So this is Langder Street.”
“Yes. Just around that corner is the soup shop.”
“Then let’s head there right away!”
“No, before that—”
Ryan looked over her attire.
“We need to buy you proper clothes first.”
“I’m fine like this.”
“Well, I’m not. Follow me.”
Anasta and Ryan ducked into the nearest dress boutique.
It was the only shop boasting a polished, brilliant signboard among the weathered buildings.
Inside, opulent gowns hung in dazzling displays, and a heady cloud of expensive perfume filled the air.
“Oh my, welcome!”
“Show me a gown suitable for this lady, preferably something warm. Ah, and do you carry men’s hats?”
“Certainly, sir.”
Ryan purchased a suitable brimmed hat to obscure his face and settled onto the parlor settee.
“Wait a moment, Young… this place appears far too expensive.”
“Do you honestly think I can’t afford a single dress? I have enough to buy out this entire boutique.”
“Still, if I return to the mansion wearing this, they’ll know I snuck out.”
“You can change back before we go in.”
“And keeping such a dress in my wardrobe would give everything away.”
“Then throw it out.”
At Ryan’s blunt, unflinching answer, Anasta was left entirely at a loss for words.
END
