The Harrington garden was quieter than the rest of the estate.
Gravel paths curved through neatly trimmed hedges and pale roses that caught the last warmth of the evening light. The manor behind us glowed through tall windows, laughter and polite conversation drifting out in soft bursts. Inside, Edward and Margaret were still speaking with the Harrington family.
Out here, the noise faded into something distant.
Out here, it was just the two of us.
Selene walked beside me along the narrow path, her steps unhurried, confident. Eleanor Harrington's gown suited her far too well—dark fabric flowing neatly along her figure, sleeves brushing softly against the roses as we passed.
She looked like she belonged in this world.
I, on the other hand, felt like an impostor in expensive clothing.
I glanced at her.
Then looked away.
Then glanced back again.
"You… look nice in those clothes," I said.
The moment the words left my mouth, I realized that was possibly the least impressive sentence a supposed nobleman had ever spoken.
Selene turned to me.
Her expression didn't change much. Just a small smile, calm and knowing.
"You too."
Great. Fantastic.
A shining display of conversational brilliance.
Nobel Prize in social interaction achieved.
How did I get stuck here, I thought, rubbing the back of my neck, and why is she so…
Beautiful.
The thought arrived uninvited and refused to leave.
Selene seemed to notice my sudden silence. Without commenting on it, she simply gestured toward the center of the garden.
"There's a pavilion over there," she said. "We can sit if you'd like."
"A structure?" I repeated, as if that was important.
"Yes."
"Oh—yes. Please. Let's go."
The pavilion stood quietly at the center of the garden, a circular structure of pale stone with benches along the inside. Ivy climbed the thin pillars, and lantern light from the manor barely reached it. The place felt almost separate from the estate.
We sat opposite each other.
For a moment neither of us spoke.
"So," I said finally, leaning back slightly. "When did you get here?"
"A few days ago."
"That early?"
She nodded.
"At first I thought I had gone insane," she admitted, though her voice remained calm. "Everything felt too real to be a dream. The people, the memories… Eleanor's life."
"And?"
"Her mother came to see me the first night."
Her tone softened slightly.
"She is… warm. The kind of person who speaks gently even when she's worried. She kept asking if I needed anything. Food. Tea. A blanket." Selene smiled faintly. "It made pretending to be her daughter easier."
"What about her father?"
"Lord Harrington is more reserved," she said. "Not cold. Just careful. Most of Eleanor's memories of him are about expectations — education, manners, responsibilities. But he clearly cares for her."
"Ah," I said. "The classic aristocratic love language."
Selene laughed quietly.
"And Arisha?" I asked.
"Margaret Bell. She arrived the same day I did," Selene replied. "Apparently she was appointed as Eleanor's handmaiden just last month."
"That's convenient."
"Yes."
"Very convenient."
She gave me a look.
"Are you implying something?"
"I'm implying the universe might be slightly biased toward narrative convenience."
"Ah," she said thoughtfully. "The classic isekai logistics department."
I laughed under my breath.
"So," I continued, "your quest pushed you toward the marriage too?"
She hesitated only briefly.
"Yes."
"What reward did it promise?"
Selene glanced down for a moment before answering.
"It said:
Rewards are not available at this level.
Your contribution will be remembered in the next one."
I blinked.
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"I thought about declining," she added calmly. "But everyone around me seemed so happy about the arrangement. Eleanor's parents especially. After seeing how much they care for her… refusing felt wrong."
She shrugged lightly.
"So I accepted."
I stared at her.
"You can decline yours?"
We both paused.
Selene tilted her head.
"Wait," she said slowly. "You didn't try declining?"
"I did," I said.
"And?"
"My system basically told me: nice try."
Selene blinked.
"So yours doesn't allow you to?"
"No," I sighed. "Mine apparently believes in forced character development."
"That sounds unfortunate."
"You have no idea. It also tried to sell me a skill called Polite Laughter Level One."
Selene stared at me for a moment.
Then laughed.
The sound lingered softly in the quiet garden.
After a moment, she spoke again.
"Why did you go along with it?"
"The quest?"
"Yes."
She leaned back slightly, eyes lifting toward the sky.
"Because refusing didn't feel like freedom," she said after a moment. "It felt like… ignoring the only path forward...and I decided to stop avoiding the path."
I nodded slowly.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
The moon had risen higher now, pale and steady above the garden.
Selene followed my gaze upward.
"Hey," she said quietly. "Doesn't the moon look strange tonight?"
I turned toward her.
She seemed different in that moment.
Not just Eleanor Harrington.
Not just someone trapped in another life.
"I sometimes think I'm like one of those stars," she said.
She looked back at me.
"Lost among thousands," she continued. "Hidden by the moon's brightness."
For a second I didn't respond.
Then I leaned slightly forward.
"The moon is the most beautiful thing in the sky," I said slowly. "At least if you ask the Earth."
She watched me carefully.
"But imagine," I continued, "looking around and finding a single star hidden among thousands… and being the one person who notices it."
Her eyes met mine.
"Tell me," I said softly, "which is more beautiful then?"
I meant to look away.
I really did.
But I failed.
Her gaze held mine, steady and calm in the pale moonlight.
For a moment, the strange world, the quests, the danger—all of it faded into the background.
It was just the garden.
The quiet night.
And the two of us sitting beneath a sky that suddenly didn't feel so unfamiliar.
Neither of us spoke again.
But somehow the evening kept moving forward anyway.