Without much hesitation, we soon stepped into the count’s office.
The office scread "a man who doesn’t work lives here."
Look at all the dust on the bookshelves! And the desk—was it a whiskey stand or a docunt holder?
While Tristan checked the checklist he had brought, I organized the office’s docunts and books according to the Dewey Decimal System.
"I’ll stick the book classification system on the side of the bookshelf. Please refer to it when you’re looking for sothing."
"Thank you, Dory. ...And if you get tired, feel free to go rest anyti. I’ll probably be sitting here working for hours, so don’t mind at all."
"Got it."
Just as he said, except for dinner, Tristan didn’t leave the office desk for hours.
After finishing organizing even the study’s books and moving so useful ones into the office, I heard a quick rundown of the mansion’s situation from the maids.
They were all quite happy about the change in ownership.
"I heard about the old stories! Apparently, twenty years ago, one of the maids got thrown out while pregnant! No wonder the count always looked at young maids in such a creepy way."
"If there’s ever any unpleasantness between the staff, don’t hesitate to tell . How’s the new head maid adjusting?"
"She’s a bit overwheld from the sudden promotion, but she’s always been diligent. I’m sure she’ll do great."
Apparently, Tristan had fired the forr head maid on the sa day he issued the warrant against Count Braum.
The forr head maid had helped the count force Leyla out without any experience or references.
Now that the truth had spread, it would be difficult for her to find work elsewhere.
After a long chat with the maids, I stepped out into the hallway and found a servant waiting for with a large bag.
"The courier delivered this. It’s from the capital."
"Ah, thank you."
I knew who it was from the mont I opened the bag and saw the letter sitting right on top.
Without even saying goodbye, my little sister had run off in such a hurry that she couldn’t even pack properly.
So, I’m sending you a change of clothes and a negotiation tool you can use with anyone, just in case.
If you’re grateful, co ho as soon as possible.
’Natalie, you’re too much sotis...’
It seed the Crown Princess had tipped her off about the situation.
Below the letter were a change of clothes, a large glass jar of cookies, and a small hamr.
My sister’s kindness always leaned toward the destructive side.
’I’ll be ho soon enough, don’t worry, sis.’
After all, I had left without properly explaining anything to our parents.
Now that I’d managed to exchange the most important words with Tristan, it would be better for to return to the capital first and leave him here to finish things.
...But one thing was still bothering .
It wasn’t sothing that had to be resolved.
If anything, trying to resolve it hastily might only make things worse.
And yet, I...
...Sowhere, I heard the sound of water.
A door creaked open.
Soone threw a towel aside.
Wet feet padded cautiously across the floor... and then creak, the sound of soone settling onto a bed.
The scent of soap, warm and humid, filled the room.
This could only an—
"...Where are you going, Your Highness?"
Tristan, who had been about to leave the guestroom bed, froze in place.
Under the moonlight, his eyes trembled like a boy caught trying to sneak away after pulling a prank.
"Sorry. I just wanted to peek in on you for a second, but I woke you up."
"Ah... I must have dozed off while resting for a bit."
"Go back to sleep. If you want to wake up at a certain ti, I’ll wake you then."
"...Are you seriously going back to work at this hour?"
"Your Highness, be honest—am I wrong to think you’re trying to run away again?"
"W-What?! No way!"
Seeing how flustered he was, I must have hit the mark.
He waved his hands desperately for a mont before slowly lowering his head under my steady gaze.
"It’s not running away, not physically anyway. I an, I would never leave my fiancée alone at the Blue Atrium."
"Of course not. If you did, I’d tell Natalie."
"Please don’t! I just... I just felt like I saw too much of you today, and I was trying to avoid it."
"Huh?"
Is there a daily recomnded intake for looking at your fiancée’s face?!
Faced with my bewildernt, Tristan leaned in as if to reassure , sitting at the edge of the bed.
Drops of water from his hair fell onto the back of my hand, and the faint scent of soap reached .
"Sigh... Honestly, when I left the capital yesterday morning, I tried to prepare myself. I thought, ’What if she wants to stay in her hotown after we get married? Could we manage being apart for half the year?’"
What are we, Hades and Persephone?
"Does it even make sense to live separately after getting married?"
"It was one of the ideas I ca up with while worrying about how you could find happiness in a marriage to a man you don’t love."
"...But then you wouldn’t be happy."
"That would be better than watching you be miserable."
"..."
"I ran away, trying to get used to a world without you... but it ended up doing the opposite."
Tristan leaned deeper into the bed, reaching out a hand toward my cheek.
All I could feel was the warmth of soone who had just stepped out of the bath.
He didn’t touch —he just hovered nearby, speaking quietly.
"I’m not worthy of you. If you ever left , people would imdiately assu it was my fault—and they’d be right.
I’m the kind of man who’s too disgraceful even to be kept as a fiancé, let alone a husband."
"Your Highness..."
"It’s only through your choice that I’m even allowed to be by your side... and I’m terrified of getting used to that kind of luck."
Even sitting beside on the sa bed, he couldn’t shake his fear.
His hand hovered near , never touching, as if afraid that the mont he did, I would vanish like a mirage.
I could tell him—over and over again.
"I’ll stay by your side. I love you. We’re going to get married..."
But right now, what Tristan needed wasn’t that kind of comfort.
At the mont he showed his vulnerable heart, there was only one thing I had to express.
My own fear.
I leaned forward as if collapsing, aiming shalessly for Tristan’s arms. As expected, though flustered, he caught with his body.
"Dory, what are you—"
"I’m holding onto you so you don’t run away. I have to face my fears too, now."
"Fears? What fears?"
"Your Highness, let ask you just one thing. Do you rember when you first started to like ?"
"I’m... not exactly sure, but wait a mont."
As I looked up at Tristan, deep in thought, I turned over my fear again in my mind. The current Dory Redfield was a being born from . Originally, she had only a simple setting—just a minor character with a family and a na. But my face, my body, my personality had been overlaid onto her, until she was almost indistinguishable from the real .
Still, that didn’t erase Dory’s past—the history of her engagent to Tristan from five years ago.
’What if Tristan loved the Dory from before I possessed her...?’
Even though I knew there would be nothing I could do about it, I couldn’t stop myself from asking.
After a brief silence, Tristan finally opened his mouth.
"Do you rember the spring tea party at the count’s estate earlier this year?"
Of course I rembered.
It was my first tea party after cramming for a month to learn court etiquette post-possession.
Between the pressure and the corset, I thought I might pass out, but sohow I pulled through, feeling proud of myself afterward...
"That day, I saw you pick up a cookie you had dropped and eat it."
"...Excuse ?"
"You always acted like a walking etiquette manual, but seeing you desperately pick up that cookie and pretend nothing had happened was surprisingly... adorable.
After that, I couldn’t stop noticing you."
"I—I didn’t eat it off the floor!"
"Are you sure about that?"
"..."
I couldn’t be sure.
But even so, a part of my heart eased slightly. Because I could be certain now—his feelings had started because of .
’...But seriously, you fell for because of that?!’
As I was silently panicking over that revelation, I heard Tristan’s voice by my ear.
"Dory. Isn’t it about ti you got up from my arms?"
"Why?"
"From this angle, all I can see is your forehead and the bridge of your nose. I feel like I’m missing the chance to see you smiling right now."
"I’m comfortable just like this. What if I don’t want you to see?"
"Then I’ll have to find another way to check. Pardon , my lady."
Tristan’s hand carefully brushed over my face—tracing the shape of my eyebrows, skipping gently past my sensitive eyes, but lingering tenderly over the corners of my mouth.
Through his hand, he was learning: Dory Redfield was real, right here, able to smile because of her fiancé.
"...It seems like just touching you isn’t enough."
In an instant, he lifted into a seated position, facing him.
And soon, what touched my lips wasn’t just his gaze—
It was his smile, the one he could finally wear when looking at .
Slowly, with our bodies leaning into each other, the dawn began to fall.
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