Chapter 16
Even though the question could have shaken anyone, Loren didn’t flinch.
He looked steadily at Ethan, his eyes heavy with experience, and then he bowed.
“I apologise, but I have no idea what you’re saying.”
Ethan, perched on the windowsill, crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly.
“So you’re telling Prince Howard that you don’t report anything?”
“Of course not.”
Loren raised his head once more, a soft smile spreading across his creased lips.
“I serve you, my lord. If there’s anyone I ought to report to, it wouldn’t be the Second Prince—it would be you.”
Though Loren’s answer sounded loyal and sincere, Ethan didn’t believe a word of it.
In truth, it didn’t matter whether he believed or not.
Even if Loren’s words were true, the fact remained that Prince Howard was keeping an eye on him.
It wasn’t born of malice.
Born a royal bastard, Ethan had no powerful backers and had narrowly escaped death more than once.
His deep-seated anxiety and suspicion had hardened into an obsession that extended even to those around him.
Ethan had asked out of curiosity, even though he was aware of everything.
He expected denial—and he got exactly that.
What caught him off guard was Loren’s utter composure, not even a flicker of embarrassment.
“If you find me untrustworthy, you may hire another butler.”
“No need.”
Ethan didn’t trust Loren, but it wasn’t enough reason to bother finding someone new.
And frankly, he doubted he could find a more competent butler.
“More importantly,” he said, “I’ve heard it’s customary to throw a small party to celebrate moving into a new estate.”
“That is usually the custom, but if you prefer not to, it can be skipped.”
“No, let’s have the party.”
Ethan stretched out his hand and opened the window.
A cool breeze drifted in, carrying the rich scent of flowers.
It cleared the slightly awkward atmosphere in the room.
“The thing is, I don’t have any connections among the nobility. I don’t even know who to invite. And whether they’d come if invited is another question.”
“Just a moment ago, Baron Dominic left a recommended guest list.”
“Baron Dominic?”
Ethan wondered why the list had been given to the butler and not him, but he didn’t mind much.
“Then there’s no problem inviting them as is.”
They spent a long time discussing the finer details—dates, invitations, and more.
“If you need anything, just call on me, Master.”
At last, the lengthy conversation ended.
Loren bowed deeply and left the room.
Left alone, Ethan placed the worn leather bag he had brought onto the sofa table.
The bag, marked by years of use, carried the weight of his hard-fought past.
Inside the bag were papers from his title ceremony, a medal of honour, and other significant items. He flipped through them with little interest until his hand found something nestled at the very bottom.
A bonnet that Elisa had dropped in the courtyard of the exhibition hall.
Gently brushing the delicate lace and soft fabric—so like its owner—Ethan brought the bonnet slowly to his nose.
Though several days had passed since Elisa’s hand had let it go, her scent still lingered.
He breathed in deeply, holding her fragrance deep in his lungs, closing his eyes.
When Elisa confessed her love to him, the icy, piercing back turned away, telling him that they were now strangers and that he should stop acting as though they knew each other. Her image was visible in the darkened world.
Lost in those thoughts, Ethan let out a deep sigh and opened his eyes.
Without realising it, he clenched his hand tightly—and the bonnet crumpled terribly in his grasp.
He quickly relaxed his fingers, but the wrinkles that had formed were impossible to smooth out.
Worse still, a piece of the delicate lace had torn.
I broke it again.
A bitter, almost mocking laugh escaped Ethan’s lips as he gripped the bonnet tightly once more.
***
Elisa stepped out of the Information Guild, releasing a heavy sigh.
Though her hands were empty, it felt as if she carried a massive stone.
“This is a dead end again.”
She had asked the newly found guild to dig up why Ethan Estevan had gone to war, but once more, they came back with nothing.
Like the others before them, their report amounted to nothing more than, “We did our best, but failed.”
Having already faced two failures, Elisa didn’t expect much—but the disappointment still stung.
It left her feeling hollow, frustrated.
It wasn’t just the lack of answers that weighed on her—it was the stubbornness within herself that refused to let go.
She had told Ethan to stop pretending to know her, yet here she was, secretly investigating him.
The ridiculousness of it all made her feel foolish.
“Maybe it’s time to finally give up.”
Chasing after a question with no answer was senseless—if there even was an answer at all.
Besides, if rumours got out and reached Derek Grenville or Ethan himself, it would only cause more trouble.
The thought of Ethan sneering at her for this made her stomach churn.
So this is where it ends.
No more lingering feelings for Ethan—no more wasting herself on that damn man.
Steeling her wavering heart, Elisa climbed into the carriage with determination.
Her next destination was the toy store—a place that sold not only toys but also dishes and stationery for children.
Ding-a-ling.
The cheerful chime above the door greeted her as she stepped inside.
Brightly coloured toys filled every shelf, bursting with the spirit of childhood imagination.
Watching them, a small smile crept onto her face, as if she’d been transformed back into an innocent child.
“Oh my, it’s been a while, miss!”
The shop owner greeted her warmly.
Having visited often, Elisa had grown familiar with the kind-hearted proprietor.
“You’re here to buy a gift for Master Noah, right?”
“Yes.”
“How lucky Master Noah is—to have such a loving sister.”
Though she’d heard the phrase “younger brother and older sister” many times, it still tugged painfully at her heart. Swallowing a sigh, Elisa forced a smile.
“Got any recommendations?”
“Absolutely! I’ve even prepared some toys that I think Master Noah will love!”
The owner quickly fetched a box filled with animal figurines—each crafted with such life-like detail it was as if the real creatures had been shrunk down.
Among them, Elisa’s eyes settled on a wolf figurine—Noah’s favourite animal, and hers as well.
But just one wolf might get boring.
She’d need to pick some others, too.
“I’ll take everything in this box.”
Elisa, still debating what else to buy, decided to take everything.
As the shop owner, her face bright with pleasure, went off to wrap the items, Elisa wandered around the store.
Maybe I should get that train set too.
Boys usually prefer things like this over dolls…
Her eyes suddenly widened as she spotted Ethan walking outside the window.
And there, linking arms with him, was a woman with reddish-brown hair.
“…Briana?”
The woman was none other than Giselle Briana, daughter of the Marquis Briana.
Their closeness was unmistakable, like that of affectionate lovers—and Elisa’s gaze wavered noticeably as she watched them.
Why are they together? What’s going on? Are they dating? Since when? How did they meet? Who confessed first? Could it possibly be Ethan?
A flood of questions piled up one after another, each slicing sharply through Elisa’s heart.
An agonising pain surged through her, making it hard to breathe.
Even after they vanished from sight, she remained stunned, staring blankly out the window.
“Miss?”
“Ah.”
The shop owner’s voice brought her back to reality.
Elisa let out a short sigh.
“Are you all right? You look pale…”
“I’m fine. Have you finished wrapping everything?”
“Yes. Here you go.”
Taking the neatly wrapped box, Elisa paid and stepped outside.
Her eyes instinctively drifted toward where Ethan and Giselle had disappeared, but they were nowhere to be seen—likely already far away.
“…What am I doing, being such a fool?”
What was she going to do—go find them and demand why they were together?
A dry, bitter laugh twisted her lips.
It hadn’t even been half a day since she swore to forget Ethan, yet here she was, shattered and shaken.
What made her feel even more pitiful was that her jealousy wouldn’t subside.
She bit her lips hard enough to draw blood, trying to suppress the flames of envy—but the fire only grew stronger.
She needed to go home.
Seeing Noah would make her feel better.
“Miss Leslie.”
Just as she handed the box to the coachman and was about to climb into the carriage, a calm, lake-like voice called out to her.
