YWUSB~03

Chapter 3

“I’m not of such an extraordinary bloodline, so please don’t feel pressured.”

Then he must not be a Raslet.

If the South had Rowen, then the greatest power in the North was Raslet.

Though there were rumors that their influence had declined somewhat after the death of the former Duke of Raslet, there was still no family in the North as formidable as theirs.

So if this man was not the new Duke of Raslet, then exchanging a brief conversation with him should not be a problem.

That was what I was thinking when he returned the question.

“If it is not too rude, may I ask where milady is from?”

“I was born and raised in the capital.”

Though the Rowen estate was in the South, my family had lived in our mansion in the capital since before I was born, so it was not a lie.

Besides, I did not particularly want to tell a stranger that I was a Rowen.

From the look of it, this man had not recognized my family name.

Unlike the rest of my family, who all bore the distinct silver hair and golden eyes unique to the Rowens, I had blonde hair and green eyes. He would not immediately make the connection.

For a little while, I wanted to enjoy the unfamiliar sense of distance from my family that this gave me.

I had not met many people, but the ones I had always changed the moment they learned my family name.

Some kept their distance, afraid of Damian’s fiery temper.

Others shifted their attention from me to Iswen or Damian instead.

At home, my family treated me as less than family—less even than distant acquaintances they merely recognized by face.

But outside, perhaps because they pretended we were close siblings, the two brothers gladly welcomed those who approached me as a stepping stone to them.

They treated them so well…

So well that they forgot I even existed.

“There is only one reason others are kind to you. Because you are a Rowen.”

On the day I discovered that even the daughter of a count—my last friend—had only been interested in Iswen all along, he came to me, looked down on me with pity, and said that.

“Without the family name, you are nothing. So if someone treats you well, suspect them first.”

But even when facing someone who did not know me, I did not want to remain bound by those words.

In truth, his deep-looking eyes were fixed only on me.

Though… he was staring a little too intently.

“Um… is there perhaps something wrong with what I said…?”

His dark gaze felt oddly unreadable, so I asked cautiously.

He shook his head.

“No.”

Then, looking slightly awkward, he turned his head a little away.

His low, gentle voice slowly followed.

“My mother was from the capital. Your words reminded me of the things she used to say when she missed her hometown.”

“…”

“She often said that everything in the capital was so beautiful that the North could not compare. Seeing it for myself today… I suppose some of that may have been true.”

There was a slight bitterness in his voice.

Perhaps it was because he was speaking of longing.

Nostalgia often carried a certain ache.

Before the atmosphere could sink too deeply, I spoke.

“Still, if you can sympathize with your mother to some degree, then I suppose you must have found something in the capital that you like.”

“If I said that the capital itself does not quite suit me… would that displease you?”

Rather than simply answering yes or no, he responded with a teasing question.

It seemed he, too, did not want the mood to grow too heavy.

“No. It’s possible the North might not suit me either.”

I had never been to the North, so I could not say for certain.

“Still… it sounds as though your mother treasured her hometown very much.”

“She was happiest when she was living in the past.”

After saying that, he suddenly paused, as if realizing too late that it had not been a particularly cheerful answer.

Perhaps wanting to shift the mood, he took a few steps closer and inclined his head.

“Den.”

A false name, most likely.

In high society, unless one was formally introduced, using one’s real name was considered improper.

It was his way of saying that this encounter would not become a problem later, no matter what form it took.

“Please call me Ella.”

The moment I said it, I wondered if I had chosen something too similar to my real name.

Combined with my appearance, he might deduce that I was Iela Rowen.

But Den showed no sign of noticing.

He narrowed his eyes slightly and repeated my name once.

“Ella.”

The soft pronunciation fell from his lips.

Perhaps because it sounded so much like my real name, my heart skipped.

“If it is not rude, may I ask who accompanied you here?”

“Ah, I came with my father.”

I added in a smaller voice,

“I’m not engaged or married yet.”

Den smiled faintly.

“Is that so?”

In the dim atmosphere, the way his eyes curved gently struck my heart like a bird’s beak tapping sharply against it.

My heart pounded loudly in my ears.

A smile like that was surely something people used all the time, casually, as social lubrication—

And yet my feelings were reacting far too strongly.

Before it showed too obviously, I quickly asked,

“What about your companion, Den?”

“I came alone. Embarrassingly enough, I had no one suitable to accompany me.”

“If it weren’t for my family, I probably would have struggled to find a partner too.”

I had no friends, and Aiden—the only man I could appear beside without causing scandal—was royalty.

Royalty traditionally entered alone unless accompanying a foreign dignitary or an official betrothed.

Though Father was surely planning to create a future where I would eventually enter beside Aiden…

Thinking of the life where I would be sold off according to his wishes made me gloomy.

Perhaps it showed on my face.

Den tilted his head slightly toward me.

“Is something troubling you?”

“No. It’s just… a little suffocating.”

Terrifying, rather than suffocating, would have been more accurate.

But I could not say that honestly.

He was kind, and our conversation had been pleasant, but the future was uncertain.

There was no guarantee that what I said to Den tonight would not somehow reach Damian or Iswen by tomorrow.

Den did not seem like a bad person.

But he was still a man I had just met.

If he learned I was a Rowen, perhaps he too would abandon this easy familiarity and try to get closer to Damian or Iswen by using what I said.

As I lowered my gaze and bit my lower lip, sinking into my chronic anxiety—

I heard unexpected words.

“If you feel stifled… would you like to take a walk with me?”

“…What?”

Startled, I turned to him.

Den’s eyes curved again.

“If you dislike the idea, I will not ask twice.”

He had listened carefully to what I said and was trying to solve the problem.

The first thing I felt was unfamiliarity.

I had never received such consideration from my father or my two brothers.

When I was with my family, what mattered was never how I felt—

Only what they wanted.

Once the shock of experiencing something so unfamiliar passed, my lips naturally softened into a smile.

Being respected by someone…

It was far more joyful, far more moving, than I had expected.

Feeling much more relaxed than before, I said,

“To go outside, we would have to pass through the hall. People would notice.”

“There is a way to reach the garden without going through the hall.”

Den glanced down over the railing.

It was not difficult to understand what he meant.

He wanted us to climb over the railing and go down into the flower garden.

“But this is the second floor.”

“You needn’t worry about that.”

And before I could say another word—

He leapt cleanly over the railing.

“Den!”

Without thinking, I rushed to look down—

And our eyes met.

Den’s eyes were blue.

Much darker than Aiden’s, but unmistakably blue.

Those deep blue eyes curved brighter than before, moonlight and mischief scattered across his handsome face.

For a moment, I simply stared, entranced.

Then Den called up to me.

“Before you come down, ask a servant to light the lamps. That way, it won’t be obvious you’ve left.”

Only then did I come back to my senses.

As reason returned, I realized I had been standing there blankly, like a child bewitched by something pretty.

How embarrassing.

It practically advertised that I had never had friends—or a man.

My embarrassment came out sounding sharp.

“Stay right there.”

As I turned to call a servant, I heard him laugh softly behind me.

At that sound, my ears burned hot.

It felt as though next spring’s breeze had arrived early.

“So… how do I get down?”

With one hand clutching the jacket draped over my shoulders, I looked down at where Den stood below.

The railing was a height he could jump from easily enough, but I was much shorter than he was—

And I was wearing a dress.

Den narrowed his eyes slightly, as though measuring something.

“First, sit on the railing.”

Following his instructions, I carefully perched myself on the outer edge.

It was not even that high, and yet chills ran down my spine.

It was my first time in my life sitting on a railing.

Still…

I was not afraid.

Because if I fell, it felt like Den would catch me.

“And then?”

“Now… would you give me your hand?”

The way he said it was deliberately formal, almost noble.

Though exaggerated, it felt less ridiculous than playful—full of ease and confidence.

As instructed, I reached my hand down.

He took it.

His palm was warm.

Firm.

My eyes widened at the unfamiliar sensation.

Den grinned—

And suddenly yanked my arm hard.