"...Kaidel, why…?"
Eleanor's wide eyes blinked in shock. She had been sure it was Adrian at the door — but instead, it was Kaidel standing before her.
He didn't answer. He didn't even seem to breathe. His gaze swept briefly around the room before returning to her. His chest rose sharply as if he had been holding his breath for too long.
Eleanor watched in confusion as his face flushed red, then drained to a cold pallor. His eyes, which had been fixed on her hair, slowly drifted downward — and stopped at her bare feet.
Bare feet.
Ah…!
Only then did Eleanor realize she was wearing nothing but Adrian's shirt. Heat surged up her neck.
Their eyes met. In Kaidel's gaze, Eleanor saw a storm of emotion she had never seen before — confusion, yes, but something more volatile seethed beneath it.
Anger? His face had gone rigid with tension, so much that even looking at him made her chest tighten. But that wasn't quite it either.
"Kaidel," she whispered.
At the sound of his name, his fist clenched so hard his knuckles whitened. Eleanor parted her lips, desperate to explain —
"...I seem to have intruded."
Kaidel's voice was hoarse, almost strangled. He stepped back, pale as frost.
"I sincerely apologize."
He shut the door softly, his retreating footsteps echoing down the corridor.
Click.
The sound of the latch dropping made Eleanor's heart plummet. For a moment, her mind went blank.
What should I do…?
Color drained from her face. She hesitated for only a few seconds before making up her mind.
She had to stop him.
I can't just let him go like this.
She pulled open the door and hurried into the corridor — but Kaidel was nowhere in sight.
Panic rising, Eleanor ran halfway down the stairs before someone blocked her path.
"Ellen."
Adrian.
"Move," she said quickly, trying to push his arm aside. But the arm didn't budge.
"Where are you going?" His brows furrowed.
"I have to talk to Kaidel."
"In that outfit?"
His gaze flicked downward. Beneath the oversized shirt, her pale legs stretched bare, her collarbone and wrists exposed, her heels flushed pink. Everything about her was too vulnerable, too intimate to be seen by anyone else.
"I—I think he misunderstood something," she stammered. "He left before I could explain—"
"Why do you need to explain?"
Adrian lifted his eyes to meet hers. His golden irises — usually warm like sunlight — were now cool, cutting.
"Why can't you let him misunderstand?" he asked quietly.
Eleanor froze. Why indeed?
The strength drained from her limbs. Adrian caught her arm gently, steadying her.
"We were supposed to have dinner together," he said, his tone softening. "You can talk to him later. You shouldn't be out here barefoot. No."
"You're right…"
Her voice was small. Everything he said was true. Chasing after Kaidel like this, half-dressed, would only make things worse. She could explain later, when the moment was calmer.
After all, Kaidel wasn't bound to her by any promise. He had no claim, and she had no obligation to justify herself.
So why did her chest ache like this?
"You're right. I just… panicked," she murmured.
Adrian sighed, noticing her damp hair. "It's still wet. You'll catch a cold. Come, I'll dry it for you."
"Mm."
She changed into the clothes he handed her and sat down. Adrian began gently patting her hair dry with a towel — just as she had done for him countless times when they were children.
He said something then, but she barely heard it. Her mind was elsewhere, floating, unfocused.
"Ellen?"
"Hmm?"
"What are you thinking about? I asked what you want for dinner."
"Anything's fine."
Anything. Adrian hated that answer, but tonight he only nodded.
"Since it's raining, how about the restaurant in your lodging? I'll leave a note for His Grace."
She nodded. "Sure."
"Can you walk? I was going to get the carriage, but it's too crowded out there."
"Of course."
She smiled faintly. The rain had lightened into a soft drizzle. Under a single large umbrella, they walked side by side through the streets of Deln.
The cool air and the hum of the city helped settle her thoughts. When they finally reached the lodging twenty minutes later, Hestia — Sienna's mother — was waiting in the lobby.
"Hestia, did we keep you waiting?"
"I came early to make a reservation. Adrian said you'd been caught in the rain — are you all right?"
"Yes, I warmed up right away."
Eleanor looked around discreetly. Kaidel was nowhere to be seen.
"Let's go in. You must be starving," Hestia said, gently ushering her forward.
Throughout the meal, Eleanor couldn't stop glancing at the restaurant door. Each time it opened, her heart skipped — only to sink again when a stranger entered.
Hestia spoke up eventually. "His Grace must be busy. I was hoping to meet the man Sienna praises so much."
"I left a note at his door," Adrian replied smoothly, cutting his steak. "He must have other matters to attend to."
Eleanor smiled faintly, the motion automatic. Yes, of course. He's a busy man.
Maybe he had another engagement. Maybe he was meeting someone from the Academy — he had plenty of acquaintances in Deln.
He wouldn't avoid me on purpose. Kaidel isn't like that.
She repeated the thought until it almost felt true.
There'll be time before we leave. It'll be fine.
Creak.
Kaidel frowned, glancing toward the wall. The young marquis must have returned — the bed next door was protesting noisily again.
That was the problem with old inns: no soundproofing.
So, they didn't stay out long after all.
He looked toward the wall with a twitch of his lip.
For the first time in years, he had allowed himself a nap — reading by the rain-specked window, the quiet filling his chest. It had been a rare, peaceful hour.
When he finished his book, he rose to ask Adrian about dinner plans.
Knock, knock, knock.
He rapped lightly on the door. No response. He was sure he'd heard movement earlier.
Is he asleep?
Knock, knock, knock—harder this time. Footsteps shuffled, and then the door swung open.
"Lian, you're back?"
Eleanor.
Kaidel's eyes widened slightly. Hers did, too.
The surprise lasted only a heartbeat — before he remembered whose room this was. Adrian's.
"...Eleanor."
"Kaidel, why—"
His eyes drifted past her.
Shoes kicked aside, a blanket half on the floor, pillows strewn, sheets twisted. Each small detail painted a single, unbearable image.
His heart plummeted to his feet. He realized he'd stopped breathing and drew in a ragged, painful breath.
Then his gaze returned to her — her damp hair, swollen eyes, Adrian's shirt hanging loosely on her, pale legs, bare flushed feet.
Color rushed to Kaidel's face. His jaw tightened. A hollow weakness swept through him.
Ah…
His mind went white. He couldn't comprehend — or perhaps refused to.
When their eyes met again, Eleanor's face had turned scarlet. She looked as if she wanted to deny everything, yet couldn't.
"Kaidel," she whispered.
Something inside him constricted violently. His hands curled into fists.
Slowly, reason returned — enough to tell him he had to leave. Now.
"...I've overstepped."
He bowed stiffly, the gesture automatic, trained.
"My sincerest apologies."
He closed the door, striding down the corridor without direction — only the desperate need to get away.
When he reached the first floor, he came face to face with the last person he wanted to see.
Adrian.
The young marquis inclined his head politely. "Your Grace, are you heading out?"
Kaidel's lashes lowered. His gaze caught on the green dress in Adrian's hand — one he recognized well. Eleanor's favorite.
For a moment, he stared, silent. Then he brushed past him. Their shoulders collided hard.
"Ugh—"
Adrian glanced back, puzzled, but Kaidel didn't look around.
He stepped out into the street. Cold rain drenched his hair instantly, the drops striking like glass shards.
"Hah…"
The breath he'd been holding tore free, ragged and raw.
The image of Eleanor — startled, fragile, standing in his shirt — seared itself into his mind. The temperature, the scent, the sound of her voice. Everything branded into him.
He knew he would never forget it.
Eleanor Everett had chosen Adrian Blake.