Previously
Eleanora regrets her outburst but remains furious at Killian's narcissism, while Killian suffers from insomnia and physical discomfort as he obsessively wonders who Eleanora loves. When Eleanora arrives at the mansion to check on Emily, Killian hides in his room and orders Owen to keep her away from him.
After purchasing medicinal herbs in Highbury, Eleanora checked the time.
It was four in the afternoon—not a particularly busy hour for Clara.
( ‘Should I stop by to see her for a moment?’ )
Eleanora headed toward the shop where Clara worked, but she froze in place before she could even push the door open completely.
A young man, dressed in a sharp suit with meticulously styled hair, was pleading with Clara.
“……”
As Clara bit her lower lip, hesitating, the man pressed on.
Clara shouted, looking straight into his eyes. Stunned as the man was, Eleanora was equally shocked.
Did Clara have someone she loved?
‘I’ve never heard a word of this.’
The agitated man demanded,
The man reached out and grabbed Clara's wrist.
At that moment, Eleanora burst into the shop and shoved him away.
The man nearly shouted back, demanding to know why she was interfering, but catching sight of Clara cradling her aching wrist behind her, he realized his mistake.
Flushing red, the man hurried out. Eleanora glared after him until he vanished, and the moment the weathered wooden door creaked shut, she turned to Clara.
Seeing her friend flustered with worry over her, Clara felt a surge of warmth in her chest and rested her face against Eleanora's shoulder.
Fortunately, the grip had not been severe enough to leave lingering finger marks on her wrist.
Still, that was hardly comforting.
Clara smiled softly at the concern in Eleanora's eyes.
Clara's gaze wavered.
Clara nodded with a faint chuckle.
Clara offered a subtle smile.
Clara nodded. Eleanora cooled her flushing cheeks with the back of her hand.
( ‘Should I… just tell her?’ )
Should she confess the feelings she had kept tucked away in her heart all this time?
Clara was not one to spill secrets. Besides, she seemed far more experienced in matters of love and relationships, and could surely offer sound advice.
Just as Eleanora resolved to confide in her, Clara spoke up.
With that, she stood up abruptly.
Eleanora looked up at her, bewildered, and Clara offered an awkward smile.
In the end, Eleanora was unable to voice the feelings swelling in her heart.
She did not feel too regretful; it was not strictly necessary to confess her feelings to Clara.
Yet a vague discomfort lingered, because Clara’s reaction had felt somewhat strange.
( ‘And there was something I wanted to ask…’ )
Who was the person she loved? Or had it just been a lie to get rid of that man?
Or could it be…
Eleanora shook her head. No matter how much she racked her brain to draw a conclusion on her own, it was unlikely to be the truth.
She could always ask Clara another day, once things settled and the moment felt right.
For now, what truly needed her attention was Killian.
Would she not see him tomorrow either? It would be a relief if so, but…
( ‘Are we going to keep acting this awkwardly forever?’ )
Eleanora let out a deep sigh.
‘Ah, why can’t he just get married?’
What was so wrong with Vivian? Where else could he ever find a woman so beautiful and gracious?
( ‘Why does he hate marriage so much?’ )
And why did he hate people, for that matter? It wasn't as if he weren't human himself!
( ‘He truly is impossible to understand.’ )
Five days had passed since Eleanora began visiting Killian's estate.
Throughout those five days, Killian had not once stepped out of his heavily curtained room.
How could sleep elude him entirely like this?
He had no appetite, either.
All he felt was an odd sensation, as though a block of ice had lodged somewhere inside him and was slowly melting away.
Amidst it all, Eleanora refused to leave his thoughts.
That scowling face that seemed to genuinely despise him, and that shy, smiling face whenever she thought of Julian.
The two expressions alternated relentlessly before his eyes.
( ‘What must I do to wipe this image from my head?’ )
Even when he pleaded desperately within himself, it refused to fade.
Just then, Owen came to his door.
Killian answered in a raspy voice, then hurried over to the window.
Lately, Owen had taken to visiting him right around the time Eleanora departed.
Today was no exception.
( ‘She doesn't even look back.’ )
Eleanora was leaving the estate, her steps as light as a gentle breeze. Killian only regained his senses when she had vanished completely from view.
Was it normal for him to part the curtain just a sliver, tracking her from the corner of his eye out of fear of being discovered?
( ‘A madman has gone even madder.’ )
Killian dragged his hands roughly down his face.
He desperately wished he could come to his senses. Yet even then, the lingering vision of her retreating back remained etched in his sight.
Where was she heading?
( ‘Did she go to meet that scoundrel Julian?’ )
Was that why her steps had looked so remarkably light?
A sharp pang flared in the pit of his stomach. It hurt so fiercely that cold sweat beaded along his brow.
( ‘I need to call a doctor.’ )
The moment Eleanora's image flashed through his mind again, he shook his head violently.
He had heard there were other male doctors in the commercial district. It certainly didn’t have to be that woman!
Owen was packing his wife’s luggage when Emily murmured softly,
Owen thought his words would brighten Emily’s mood.
Instead, she remained just as distant as before.
‘What’s troubling her?’
The closer departure day drew, the sourer Emily’s temper became.
Owen had assumed she was simply sad at the thought of leaving him, but now there seemed to be another reason entirely.
Taking a deep breath, Emily said it straight out.
When Owen nodded, she asked,
“Are you… having an affair?”
Owen shook his head vigorously, as if he had just heard something entirely absurd.
Yet Emily pressed on, her eyes glistening with tears.
Owen’s eyes went so wide they looked ready to pop from their sockets.