KMKS 18

chapter 18

Sarah brought her fingernails to her lips, a nervous habit she could not shake.

Nothing had unsettled her this much recently. Beneath the table, her feet tapped restlessly.

Of all places, she had ended up having lunch with Aiden on the terrace—not far from where she had just burned the newsletter.

Underneath the lush greenery, sunlight broke across the table in dazzling shards, scattering like puzzle pieces.

If it had been yesterday, Sarah would have enjoyed this meal with a light heart.
But not today.
At least not now.

Even while the servants bustled about carrying dishes, Sarah’s eyes kept drifting toward the brazier.

The newsletter containing the Duke of Winston’s memory loss had already been reduced to ashes, yet the smoke lingered stubbornly, as if unwilling to vanish under the harsh, still sunlight.

The acrid smell prickled at her nerves.

‘…’

Since Aiden had lately been sharp at reading her unease, Sarah forced her body to relax, trying not to give away that she was hiding something.

He approached with long strides, one hand raised to shield his eyes from the glare.

“Did you enjoy your walk just now?”

“Yes. Though as you can see, it’s scorching hot.”

She held her palm out to catch the sunbeams as she replied. Aiden coughed lightly into his fist, as though to hide a smile.

“Your face seems a little flushed.”

Sarah bit down on her lower lip. Was it because she had stood too close to the blazing fire? Hastily, she fanned herself with her hand to cool her cheeks.

But the heat would not fade so easily. She changed tactics, clasping the cool glass of water before her. Ripples quivered faintly on its surface.

The secret had to stay hidden, tucked away in some unreachable corner—but her racing heart refused to be calmed.

Aiden, meanwhile, sat across from her with a faint smile that never seemed to leave his lips. While waiting for the main dish, he tapped the table with his finger.

“Come to think of it, we never decided on a wish.”

“A wish?”

When his focus shifted, Sarah finally let go of the glass. Her palm was damp from the condensation.

“I mean our bet. Without some kind of reward, isn’t it boring?”

Aiden had claimed it would rain within the week, while Sarah had insisted it would not.

He sounded confident enough to stake a wish—or perhaps he simply wanted an excuse to grant hers.

Looking up, Sarah saw the warm sunlight streaming through thick leaves. It was hard to imagine rain coming within a week.

She scratched her cheek, hesitant to answer. It wasn’t that she had no wishes at all.

Her first wish had been that Aiden would never wake from his accident.

How desperate must she have been to utter such a thing aloud, staring at her husband’s pale, lifeless face as he lay unconscious?

But now that he had awakened, that wish could no longer exist. Even if she could go back, she wasn’t sure she would wish it again.

If she had to choose another, it would be to leave this manor. Aiden might even honor such a wish. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to say it—perhaps because she could see how much he was trying. After all, her desire to leave had begun with the conflict between them.

“Do I need to say my wish now?”

“No. You can tell me later. Of course, that’s assuming you win.”

Aiden’s lips curled into a playful smile. Sunlight and shadows from the leaves danced across his face.

His teasing tone made Sarah chuckle in spite of herself. A cool breeze stirred at last, carrying away the acrid smell that had troubled her earlier.

Relieved, she suddenly found herself curious about his wish. What would a man who had lost his memories wish for?

“You already have one in mind, don’t you?”

“Are you curious?”

The way he asked made it seem like he would tell her if she admitted it.

Discovering sides of him that she had never seen before, Sarah felt that now, perhaps, she could finally hear a wish born from his true heart.

Hearing it from his own lips would mean more than any guess.

She gave a small nod, knowing it was selfish. She wasn’t sharing her own wish, yet she wanted his.

Perhaps sensing that, Aiden lifted a finger to his lips.

“Just wait one week. You’ll find out then.”

He was as confident as ever, still convinced it would rain within the week.

How unlike him—to place such certainty on nothing more than the coachman’s aching knees.

‘So he does know how to joke.’

Aiden spread apple jam on bread, carefully avoiding the edges so Sarah wouldn’t get her fingers sticky when he passed it to her.

Once, she had tensed up so much in his presence that her whole body went rigid. But now?

She was smiling. Tentatively, but genuinely.

Perhaps that was why she said something she normally never would.

“You’d better not go back on your word later.”

She clapped her hand over her mouth, startled by her own boldness.

But Aiden only burst into laughter, clearly surprised.

Since his laughter wasn’t mocking, Sarah didn’t feel the least bit offended.

In fact, it turned into one of the rarest, most wonderful lunches she could count on a single hand.

If she had kept a diary, today would have been the day worth recording.

Unnoticed by her, Sarah’s cheeks flushed again—not from the sun this time.

After that pleasant afternoon, three days later, dusk crept quietly over the manor.

The servants went to bed early. Sarah sat at her desk, ready to close out her day.

It was her usual time to think about what she might do tomorrow. Normally, she would have been too drained, tossing in bed until nightmares haunted her sleep.

‘…I’m looking forward to it.’

Her heart skipped at the thought. What little joy might tomorrow bring?

Ever since she was young, she had trained herself not to expect too much. Hopes led to disappointment, and disappointment left scars.

The change had begun when Aiden told her to sit quietly in the library. From there, she had found small curiosities—trying things for herself, discovering bits of enjoyment.

“Did you really knit this yourself, my lady?”

While Sarah experimented with various things, Bibi had for the first time begun serving her properly, speaking to her directly.

Sensing the girl bore no malice, Sarah found herself able to respond.

Only a few days ago had she finally asked the maid’s name.

“Bibi, my lady. I can’t tell you how happy I am that you asked first.”

Watching Bibi’s bright joy, Sarah felt guilty. She could have asked long ago but hadn’t.

Lately, she had been able to act more freely, thanks to Aiden’s refusal to restrict her. In the past, she wouldn’t have dared to try anything.

Tending the flowerbeds, knitting, simple conversations with Aiden, even learning the servants’ names—none of these would have happened otherwise.

She still hadn’t completely shed her habit of watching others’ eyes, but at least she was beginning to develop a will. The will to try, to take small steps.

She folded her hands, ready to close her day, when a sound pricked her ears—an eerie animal cry, the wind sharp enough to cut.

She turned toward the window.

When she opened it, the curtain whipped violently in the chill gust. Though noon had been warm, the night air was cold enough to make her pull her robe tighter.

Staring at the pale moon, she naturally thought of her husband.

‘Would he be asleep by now?’

Except for their wedding night, they had never shared a room. She didn’t know when Aiden usually went to bed.

She could only guess. Perhaps, like her, he lay awake, lost in thought.

If so, what would he be thinking?

She worried he might be brooding over his lost memories, unable to sleep.

“I will remember.”
“I will do everything to regain it.”

His resolve had been unshakable.

A heavy cloud swallowed the faint moonlight. Sarah finally turned from the window, shutting it firmly against the wind and drawing the curtains. Time for bed.

But no sooner had she lain down than a commotion erupted below—on the first floor.

She couldn’t make out the words clearly, but the voice… she knew it. Heard once before. Her body froze as if turned to stone.

An uninvited guest had arrived without warning.

Though the window was closed tight, a chill seeped through the air, raising goosebumps under her robe.

“Is this really how you treat a guest?”

The voice rang again through the manor.

Sarah didn’t need to see the speaker to know who it was. Wrapping a shawl around herself, she stepped from her room as if in a trance.

The corridor was pitch-dark. As her eyes adjusted on the way to the staircase, she spotted him.

At the foot of the stairs stood a tall, shadowy figure.

The hallway leading to Aiden’s room was silent—he hadn’t appeared yet. Servants hurried about anxiously.

From the second-floor landing, Sarah’s gaze locked with the intruder’s. His eyes bore into her, threatening to swallow her whole.

“So we meet again.”

Outside, the wind lashed furiously, rattling the windows.

“Sarah.”

It was Duke Leo Winston.