* * *

While I struggled to balance myself, Anton knocked on the door from outside, having apparently heard the commotion.

“May I come in?”

No! I shot Hernan a sharp glare, shaking my head vehemently.

“Wait a moment,” Hernan responded instead, ignoring my silent plea.

With a calm composure, he meticulously adjusted the pajamas I didn’t even remember being dressed in, laid me back down on the bed, and pulled the disheveled blanket up to my neck.

Only after all that did he finally sit up and call out, “Come in.”

Anton entered, his expression oddly amused, as if he were suppressing laughter.

“I understand you two might want some quality alone time, but if you’re planning to have dinner, Mrs. Farmin will need to start preparing the ingredients soon. You’re leaving tomorrow, right?”

Anton’s face practically screamed, “I know exactly what kind of indecent stuff you two were up to last night, but I’ll graciously pretend I don’t.”

The tips of my ears burned so hot I feared they might fall off, but I forced myself to speak firmly.

“No. We’re leaving in 30 minutes. Get the carriage ready.”

Pushing aside the blanket Hernan had carefully tucked in, I managed to get to my feet, though it was far from graceful.

Anton raised a questioning eyebrow, tilting his head.

“Pardon? If you leave now, you won’t make it to Baylon before nightfall.”

Even by train, it was a half-day journey, so traveling by carriage would take a full day of relentless riding.

I knew that, but my body wasn’t some fragile sheet of paper.

It could handle sitting on a cushioned seat in a train.

“We’ll head to the station. I’m sure the first-class cabin will be available.”

First-class cabins, a single sleeper car per train, were like hotel suites on rails.

They were exorbitantly priced—over four times the cost of premium seating—simply for the addition of a bed, making reservations rare.

The bed’s specialized anti-shock design meant I wouldn’t suffer through any aches or discomfort during the journey.

With my mind made up, I planted my feet firmly on the floor.

“Don’t push yourself. We have plenty of time…”

Both Hernan and Anton tried to dissuade me, but plenty of time?

Hardly.

Having left the banquet abruptly without proper farewells, there was an overwhelming amount of damage control to do.

And now that I’d made my social debut under the Yudenet name, I couldn’t just ignore the flood of correspondence sent to the estate with an arrogant dismissal like, “Diplomatic relations? Not interested. Haha.”

‘If I did, people would likely send subtle inquiries about why His Grace the Grand Duke isn’t responding to letters.’

I could already imagine the countless eager eyes, unwilling to confront me openly but burning with curiosity and fervor.

The thought of them scheming to secure private meetings with Hernan sent a shiver down my spine.

‘I need to check if the head steward is skilled at sending polite refusals on behalf of the master…’

Back at the Everdin Estate, I personally reviewed and responded to every letter that came my way.

Asking Hernan to handle that would be a recipe for disaster.

[To the esteemed Baron So-and-So,]

[I can unequivocally assure you that I will never visit your territory, so please refrain from contacting me further. Responding is inconvenient, and it wastes resources.]

[Regards,
Hernan Baylon Yudenet (signature)]

He’d probably send something like that.

His demeanor when interacting with artists and tailors made it all too easy to predict.

‘That can’t happen.’

So, aside from a select few important cases, the steward had to be trained to send appropriate rejections on Hernan’s behalf.

Not to mention, I needed to inspect the construction site in Haptis, discuss interior furnishings with an expert, and finalize estimates and budgets.

‘There’s way too much to do to waste another day.’

Hernan, seeing my unyielding resolve, sighed in resignation and turned to Anton.

“If he insists, there’s no helping it.”

Anton let out an exasperated breath, his face showing a mix of awe and irritation.

I didn’t care.

Seizing the moment, I brought up a topic I’d put off addressing, forcing Hernan to focus elsewhere.

“Oh, and once I’ve dealt with everything urgent, you’ll have to give me a reasonable explanation for what happened the other night.”

It was a warning to prepare a proper excuse or clarification.

“Huh?”

Ignoring Hernan’s bewildered response, I absentmindedly stroked Fory’s fluffy tail as it rested on my shoulder.

It was almost midnight by the time we finally returned to the Yudenet Estate. U

sing the excuse that it was too late, Hernan sent me back to my room.

Without much thought, I returned to the room I had been using, only to freeze at the sight of how completely it had changed since I left for the imperial palace.

“…?”

The most noticeable difference was the windows.

It wasn’t like anyone had actually broken in through them before—if they had, I would have been woken up instantly by the freezing wind pouring in—but the small latch that used to allow the windows to swing open was now gone.

The windows had been replaced with a structure that sealed them shut completely.

Even the small ceiling panel, which had once been used to store things or check for pests, was now permanently closed.

The carpet, the bedding, the furniture—everything had been replaced.

If not for the unchangeable framework of the room itself, I might not have recognized it at all.

“…….”

Perhaps it was for the best.

Scanning the room, I noted that the scorch marks left by the intruder’s failed attempt to burn the place down were now completely gone.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, I sighed.

“Are you planning to sleep immediately, or should I prepare a bath for you?”

Hawthorne approached cautiously, breaking my train of thought as I stared blankly at the wall.

“Oh, I should wash up before sleeping. Please heat the water.”

Although I had nodded off several times during the carriage ride back, I wasn’t so exhausted that I’d collapse into bed right away.

Hernan had already returned to work after our long outing, leaving me with nothing to do but stew in my thoughts.

As the unfairness of it all began to simmer in my chest, I reminded myself that it was my fault for not taking better care of my health in the first place.

“This place is just too damn cold.”

Back in the southern regions, I’d never once felt this frail.

Even with proper heating, the bitter cold here was nothing like the mild climate I was used to.

If the weather had been warmer, I wouldn’t have earned the reputation of being delicate.

But grumbling about it wouldn’t change anything, so I obediently cleaned up and lay down, my head sinking into the pillow.

‘…….’

As I was left alone in the darkness, my thoughts began to spiral.

What would become of me now?

Was I really going to marry Hernan?

I was only twenty-seven, after all.

Sure, by the standards here, I was already well past the ideal age for a first marriage, practically a confirmed bachelor.

But as someone who had come from a world where most people around me only married in their thirties, the idea felt absurdly rushed.

‘And it’s not like I’m completely sure about this.’

I had to admit it—I did feel a certain attraction to Hernan, enough to consider deepening our relationship.

But that didn’t mean I was ready to leap into marriage right away.

‘I need to have a proper conversation about this…’

And then, out of nowhere, a ridiculous thought crossed my mind, and I slapped myself on the cheek to banish it.

‘If I agree to marry him, do you think he’d push back the “no overtime” rule by an hour or two?’

What kind of idiot was I to even entertain such a thought?

---

For about a week after that, Hernan avoided me persistently.

Though he blamed it on work, his evasion was blatant.

In the end, I had to change my routine from shuttling between my room and office to practically moving into his study.

Only then did I finally corner him for a conversation.

“…….”

Hernan, looking as though he were about to be scolded, cautiously opened the door to the study.

The moment our eyes met, he hastily closed it again.

I said nothing.

Sitting quietly on the sofa in front of his desk, sipping tea while flipping through documents, I waited.

Where could he possibly run?

Sure enough, moments later, the door creaked open again, this time just a sliver.

“…….”

Why on earth was he acting so timid? Clicking my tongue, I spoke up.

“Come in.”

To anyone else, it might’ve looked like I was the owner of this estate and Hernan was an unwelcome guest.

* * *