Elysia nodded.
At once, Miriam forgot all about her earlier sadness and swallowed instinctively.
Lady Fincher, Elysia’s second aunt, had been the daughter of a renowned chef. Every recipe and technique she knew had been passed down to Elysia.
And Elysia had always been quick to learn.
In time, she surpassed even her aunt.
Everything she made was delicious.
Back then, when she still cared for Vaelen, she often spent hours in the kitchen experimenting with new recipes.
Miriam always tasted them first.
Every single time, she left delighted.
But ever since the banquet where Elysia renounced her feelings for the Crown Prince, she had rarely entered a kitchen at all.
Tomorrow, Elysia would return to Hartwell Manor.
She lowered her eyes and said softly,
"I’ll visit the family chapel and tell Father, my brothers, and my uncles that I’ve married."
"I’ll leave some bread and cakes for them."
A faint smile touched her lips.
"I want them to know that I’m doing well."
Her voice drifted through the room like a gentle spring breeze.
Miriam nodded obediently.
Nearby, Cassiel listened silently.
His emotions unexpectedly tangled.
Neither woman noticed.
Soon afterward, they went to the small kitchen together.
They remained there for quite some time.
When they finally returned, Miriam looked thoroughly satisfied.
A smile lingered on her face as she helped Elysia remove her hairpins.
"Your Grace."
She sighed dramatically.
"If someone spends their entire life without tasting your pastries, then they’ve truly wasted their life."
Elysia smiled faintly.
But her expression looked distant.
"Stop exaggerating."
"I’m not!!"
Miriam sounded completely sincere.
Then she caught sight of Elysia’s reflection in the mirror.
Immediately, her smile faded.
"Your Grace? Are you unhappy?"
Elysia shook her head.
"No."
She lowered her gaze.
"I’m just tired."
It was already very late.
Miriam didn’t question her further.
She hurriedly prepared water for washing and helped Elysia get ready for bed.
After everything was finished, she withdrew quietly and closed the door behind her.
Silence settled over the room.
Elysia remained seated at the dressing table.
She didn’t move.
She simply stared at her reflection.
Time passed slowly.
Only when a bird chirped outside the window did she seem to return to herself.
She rose and walked toward the bed.
Cassiel lay beneath a thin blanket, motionless as ever.
If he were awake, she would certainly feel embarrassed sharing a bed with him.
But since he appeared completely unaware, she had gradually become accustomed to it.
At least, that was what she told herself.
She lifted one foot onto the bed.
Unfortunately, she didn’t raise it quite high enough.
Her foot struck the wooden frame.
"Ouch."
The collision caught her completely off guard.
Before she could regain her balance, her body pitched forward.
Instinctively, she reached out to steady herself.
Her hand landed on something warm.
Something firm.
Solid.
Muscle shifted beneath her palm.
Elysia froze.
The weather had been warm recently.
The blankets were thin.
Which meant—
Her hand had landed directly against Cassiel’s body.
Heat rushed to her face.
She looked up and found herself staring directly at his handsome profile.
Only then did she realize what had happened.
As though burned, she snatched her hand away.
"I’m sorry."
The apology escaped before she could stop it.
Cassiel didn’t respond.
Of course he didn’t.
He lay exactly as before.
Motionless.
Silent.
Elysia let out a helpless laugh.
Then she muttered softly,
"I almost forgot. You can’t hear me."
She climbed into bed and settled herself on the opposite side.
But once the room fell quiet again, the sadness she had been suppressing all evening resurfaced.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t force it away.
Meanwhile, Cassiel found himself trapped in an entirely different dilemma.
Tonight, Elysia had chosen a spot much farther away than usual.
The distance between them was impossible to ignore.
A troubling thought entered his mind.
Had she recoiled because she found him unpleasant?
Too thin?
Too weak?
Too unlike the man he once was?
Before he could dwell on it further, he heard a faint sound.
A sniffle.
Cassiel paused.
Elysia turned onto her side, facing away from him.
Then she pulled the blanket higher.
Moments later, soft sobs filled the darkness.
Cassiel frowned.
His fingers twitched beneath the blanket.
Once.
Twice.
Then everything fell still again.
The following morning, Elysia woke unusually early.
She crossed the room in soft slippers and sat before the mirror.
Leaning closer, she carefully inspected her eyes.
Only after confirming there was no redness or swelling did she finally relax.
At that moment, Miriam entered carrying a basin of fresh water.
"Oh!"
She blinked in surprise.
"You’re awake already, Your Grace."
Elysia smiled faintly.
"I’m returning home today. I suppose I’m looking forward to it."
Miriam didn’t press the matter.
Instead, she nodded enthusiastically.
"Then we’ll keep things simple today."
Together, they selected a modest hairstyle and an elegant but understated outfit.
Once everything was ready, Elysia prepared to leave.
Miriam followed behind her.
Outside, Bran was already waiting.
When he saw her, he stepped forward respectfully.
"Your Grace, I’ve arranged for two guards to accompany you. They both served under His Grace in the army. They’re reliable men."
Elysia considered it briefly before nodding.
"Very well."
Soon afterward, the carriage departed Draevenor Manor.
The journey passed quietly.
At last, the wheels slowed and stopped.
Elysia stepped down from the carriage.
The moment her feet touched the ground, her gaze fell upon the manor gates.
Two small tufts of wild grass had grown beside the old stone threshold.
For an instant, a memory surfaced.
Years ago, when her father and brothers were still alive, Hartwell Manor had never known silence.
Carriages crowded the street day and night.
Guests arrived constantly.
Military officers.
Nobles.
Messengers from distant provinces.
The stone steps outside the gates had once been worn smooth beneath countless boots.
Now—
Everything stood silent.
Empty.
Still.
A dull ache spread through her chest.
"My lady..."
A familiar voice trembled with emotion.
Elysia looked up.
The old steward, Garrick, stood waiting near the gate.
The moment he saw her, his weathered face lit up.
His eyes reddened immediately.
"My lady..."
His voice shook.
"You’ve finally..."
Finally come home.