The day of Roy Valemont’s first birthday began with celebration.
From early morning, the Valemont mansion was filled with servants carrying flowers, trays of food, decorations, and gifts.
The grand hall was prepared beautifully.
Tables were covered with fine cloth.
Flowers were arranged along the walls.
Candles were placed throughout the room.
Everything looked warm and joyful.
Everyone had a place in the celebration.
Everyone except Rosylin.
She stood quietly near the window of her room, looking down at the servants moving through the courtyard.
For most of her life, she had watched celebrations from places where nobody could see her.
That had not changed.
At nineteen, she was still the daughter the Valemont family preferred to keep hidden.
Her father had never wanted people asking questions about her.
He had never wanted her standing beside the rest of the family.
And so, even now, when the mansion was celebrating his grandson’s first birthday, Rosylin was kept away.
A maid entered her room carrying a simple dress.
“You are to remain here today.”
Rosylin looked at the dress.
“Why?”
The maid lowered her eyes.
“You know why.”
Rosylin said nothing.
The maid placed the dress on the bed.
“Your father doesn’t want you downstairs.”
Rosylin’s fingers slowly tightened.
She had heard those words in different forms for years.
Stay inside.
Don’t come downstairs.
Don’t let the guests see you.
Don’t embarrass the family.
She had stopped asking why.
The maid left.
Rosylin looked at the closed door.
Then she heard laughter coming from downstairs.
Her family had begun gathering.
Noah was now a father.
His son, Roy, was the reason the entire mansion was celebrating.
Rosylin was happy for her brother.
She truly was.
But happiness for someone else did not erase the ache inside her.
She sat on the edge of her bed.
Then she heard another sound.
A servant’s voice echoed through the corridor.
“The Ashford family has arrived.”
Rosylin froze.
Her heart suddenly beat faster.
Ashford.
Her fingers slowly curled around the fabric of her dress.
Sylvan.
Three years.
She had known this day might come.
She had once made him a promise.
“When you visit the castle again, I will tell you who I am.”
She had been sixteen when she said it.
She had been foolish.
She had believed she would somehow become brave enough to face him.
But three years had passed.
She had changed.
Her life had changed.
And now she did not want him to know.
Not yet.
Perhaps never.
Rosylin stood and walked toward the door.
She looked at it for several seconds.
Then she locked it.
The sound of the lock clicking into place felt strangely final.
She stepped away.
“I won’t see him.”
Downstairs, the doors of the grand hall opened.
Emperor Lucien Ashford entered with Rizel.
Sylvan followed.
Three years had changed him.
He was twenty-four now.
His black hair was slightly longer than before, and his blue eyes looked colder after years of military missions.
His posture was controlled.
His expression unreadable.
The Imperial Legion had demanded discipline from him, and he had given it willingly.
But the moment he entered the Valemont mansion, his eyes began searching.
He didn’t know what he was looking for.
Or perhaps he did.
Rosylin.
His gaze moved through the hall.
No long burgundy hair.
No brown eyes.
No strange girl pretending to be a maid.
Nothing.
Rizel looked at him.
“Brother?”
Sylvan glanced at her.
“What?”
“You’re looking around.”
“Am I?”
She smiled.
“Yes.”
Sylvan said nothing.
His eyes moved across the room again.
He had told himself he came for Roy’s birthday.
That was true.
But it wasn’t the entire truth.
For three years, he had remembered the girl from the garden.
The girl in the library.
The girl who had refused to tell him who she was.
And the girl who had promised to reveal herself the next time he visited.
He wanted to see her.
More than he wanted to admit.
The celebration began.
Noah stood proudly beside Flora.
Roy was in his mother’s arms, dressed beautifully for his first birthday.
Everyone gathered around him.
Noah laughed when his son reached for him.
“My little boy.”
Flora smiled.
“He knows his father.”
Noah carefully took Roy into his arms.
“I hope he always does.”
The family laughed.
Cedric stood nearby, clearly pleased with his grandson.
Relatives congratulated Noah and Flora.
Alen, now fourteen, stood among the guests.
He had grown considerably.
Soon he would begin at a new school, and everyone wanted to hear about his plans.
Rizel stayed close to Sylvan.
She had grown too.
The little girl he had left three years ago was now older, though she still remained quiet around large gatherings.
Sylvan glanced toward her.
“You all right?”
Rizel nodded.
“Yes.”
He knew she would tell him if she needed to leave.
Then his eyes moved away again.
He was searching.
Still.
No Rosylin.
The celebration continued.
Music filled the hall.
People talked.
Roy laughed.
Everyone seemed happy.
But Sylvan’s attention kept drifting toward the entrances.
Every time someone entered, he looked.
Every time a servant crossed the room, he looked.
Still nothing.
He finally stepped away from the celebration.
He walked into the corridor.
His footsteps were quiet.
He checked the garden.
Nothing.
He returned inside.
Then his eyes fell toward the library.
He remembered.
The library.
That was where he had first realized the mysterious maid was not a maid at all.
He opened the door.
The room was empty.
Sylvan stood silently among the books.
Three years ago, she had run from him here.
Now she was nowhere.
His jaw tightened slightly.
“So you’re avoiding me.”
He left the library.
Upstairs, Rosylin sat on the floor beside her locked door.
She could hear the celebration.
Every laugh reached her.
Every piece of music.
Every voice.
She closed her eyes.
She had spent years learning not to expect anything from her family.
Yet hearing them celebrate without her still hurt.
She didn’t want to see Noah happy without her.
She didn’t want to see Cedric proudly celebrating his grandson.
She didn’t want to see Sia smiling among the family while Rosylin remained hidden upstairs.
And she especially did not want to see Sylvan.
If he saw her, he might recognize her.
If he recognized her, he might ask questions.
She couldn’t let that happen.
So she remained behind the locked door.
The birthday celebration continued for hours.
Eventually, the music began to fade.
Guests slowly left the hall.
The servants began cleaning.
Roy was taken upstairs to rest.
Noah and Flora disappeared with their son.
The mansion became quieter.
Sylvan returned to the hall.
His eyes moved across the room one last time.
Nothing.
He had not seen her.
Not even once.
His expression became unreadable.
Three years.
And she had managed to disappear from him all day.
Rizel approached him.
“Are we leaving tomorrow?”
Sylvan looked toward the stairs.
“No.”
She looked surprised.
“No?”
“I’ll stay for two days.”
“Why?”
Sylvan paused.
“After three years of missions, I need some rest.”
It was a reasonable answer.
But there was another reason he didn’t say.
He hadn’t seen her.
He wasn’t ready to leave without seeing her.
That night, the mansion finally fell silent.
The corridors became dark.
Most of the servants had gone to sleep.
Rosylin remained awake.
She had not eaten properly during the celebration.
She had stayed hidden the entire day.
When she finally became hungry, she waited until the mansion was quiet.
Then she carefully opened her door.
She wrapped a shawl around herself and stepped into the hallway.
She moved silently.
She did not want anyone to see her.
Especially him.
She made her way toward the kitchen.
A little bread.
Some water.
That was all she wanted.
Meanwhile, Sylvan had not slept.
He sat beside the window, unable to quiet his thoughts.
Three years.
He had spent three years away from this mansion.
And somehow, the moment he returned, one memory had become impossible to ignore.
Her face.
Her voice.
Her promise.
He finally stood.
His throat felt dry.
He reached for the water jug beside his bed.
Empty.
Sylvan stared at it.
Then sighed.
He could call a maid.
Instead, he decided to find the kitchen himself.
He stepped into the hallway.
The mansion was silent.
He walked through the dim corridors, trying to remember the layout of the castle.
Then—
A shadow moved ahead.
Sylvan stopped.
A figure covered in a shawl was moving quickly through the hallway.
He narrowed his eyes.
The figure turned.
Sylvan followed.
Quietly.
She turned another corner.
He followed again.
Then the figure stopped.
Sylvan saw her.
She was standing beside a small table.
A piece of bread was in her hand.
A glass of water stood beside her.
She was eating quietly.
Sylvan froze.
Long burgundy hair fell beneath the shawl.
Much longer than he remembered.
He stared at her.
For a moment, he forgot to breathe.
The girl he remembered at sixteen was gone.
She was nineteen now.
And the years had transformed her into a breathtaking young woman.
But her beauty was not what held his attention for long.
It was the sadness in her eyes.
The loneliness in the way she stood.
The fact that she was eating alone in a dark hallway after everyone else had finished celebrating.
Sylvan said nothing.
He moved closer.
One step.
Then another.
Rosylin didn’t hear him.
She took another small bite of bread.
Sylvan stopped beside her.
He watched her for another moment.
Three years.
Three years of wondering.
Three years of remembering.
And finally—
He had found her.
Without making a sound, Sylvan moved closer and blocked both sides of her escape.
Then he bent slightly toward her.
His voice was low.
Calm.
Almost amused.
“Caught you.”
Rosylin froze.
The bread stopped in her hand.
Her heart slammed against her chest.
Slowly—
She turned.
Her eyes met his.
Sylvan stared back at her.
For three years, she had tried to avoid this moment.
And now—
There was nowhere left to hide.