Morning arrived quietly over the Valemont estate.
Pale sunlight slipped through the tall windows of the guest chambers, falling across the rumpled sheets and the clothes that had been carelessly left where they had fallen during the night.
Sylvan Ashford slowly opened his eyes.
For several moments, he remained still.
His mind felt strangely heavy.
His black hair was disordered, his shirt was only half-buttoned, and the collar hung loosely around his neck.
One sleeve had been pushed carelessly toward his elbow, as though he had dressed sometime during the night and abandoned the effort halfway through.
He stared at the ceiling.
Then he remembered.
A girl running through a dark corridor.
A sudden push.
The hard floor beneath his back.
And the frightened look in her brown eyes.
A faint smile touched his lips.
“Caught you…”
He remembered the words he had spoken.
Then he remembered how quickly she had escaped him.
Sylvan let out a quiet breath that almost became a laugh.
He had told Rizel he was catching a ghost.
A ghost.
He covered his eyes briefly with one hand.
“What a ridiculous thing to say.”
Yet the smile returned.
He could still picture Rosylin standing before him, nervous and breathless, trying desperately to hide whatever secret she carried.
For three years, he had wondered about that girl.
For three years, he had remembered a face he had seen only a handful of times.
He had told himself it was curiosity.
Nothing more.
He disliked mysteries.
He disliked unanswered questions.
He disliked promises that were made and forgotten.
That was what he had always told himself.
But last night had forced him to look at the truth.
When she had run away, he had not felt relieved.
He had not felt victorious.
He had felt something far more unsettling.
He had wanted to follow her.
He had wanted to catch her.
He had wanted to make certain she would not disappear again.
Sylvan slowly sat up.
His smile faded into a thoughtful expression.
Three years.
She had made him wait three years.
And somehow, even after all that time, he still could not simply let her vanish.
His gaze moved toward the tall window.
Beyond the glass, the Valemont estate was already waking.
Servants crossed the courtyard carrying trays and baskets.
Guards moved along the outer grounds.
Somewhere below, the sounds of breakfast preparations had begun.
Sylvan get up from the bed.
As he reached for his clothes, another thought came to him.
Who was she?
She certainly wasn’t an ordinary maid.
He had met enough servants in his life to know the difference.
She did not speak like one.
She did not behave like one.
And most importantly, she had no understanding of how a servant was supposed to behave around someone of his position.
Yet she did not seem like a member of the Valemont family either.
If she were, why would she hide from them?
Why would she run whenever someone came near?
Why would she eat alone in the middle of the night?
Why would she be frightened of being discovered?
Sylvan fastened the last button of his shirt.
Another possibility entered his mind.
Perhaps she was simply a homeless girl.
Perhaps she had somehow found a way into the estate and had been hiding there.
It was possible.
But even that explanation did not satisfy him.
His expression hardened slightly.
Even if she were homeless, she could have told him.
He had given her the opportunity.
She had promised him three years ago that the next time he came, she would tell him who she was.
Instead, she had run away again.
Sylvan walked toward the mirror and adjusted his collar.
He stared at his own reflection for a moment.
“I waited long enough.”
His voice was quiet.
Then he turned toward the door.
He would find her.
This time, he would not allow her to disappear so easily.
The breakfast hall was already occupied when Sylvan entered.
The long table was covered with silverware, porcelain dishes, fresh bread, fruit, warm tea, and several dishes prepared for the visiting imperial family.
Emperor Lucien Ashford sat at one end of the table, speaking quietly with Lord Cedric Valemont.
Rizel sat beside Sylvan’s usual place, swinging her feet beneath the chair.
The Valemont family was gathered around the table as well.
Sylvan took his seat.
He exchanged the necessary greetings and began his breakfast.
His expression remained calm.
To anyone watching him, he appeared exactly as he always did.
Controlled.
Reserved.
Untouched by the previous night’s events.
But his thoughts were elsewhere.
His eyes occasionally wandered toward the doorway.
He didn’t know why.
Perhaps he expected her to appear.
Perhaps some part of him was foolish enough to believe that after running away from him, she might suddenly walk into the breakfast hall.
She didn’t.
The conversation around the table continued.
Then Lord Cedric turned his attention toward his youngest son.
“Alan.”
The fourteen-year-old looked up.
“Your carriage will be ready soon.”
Alan nodded.
“Yes, Father.”
Sylvan looked toward him.
“So today is the day?”
Alan smiled faintly.
“Yes.
I am leaving for the academy today.”
Sylvan gave him a small nod.
“Congratulations.”
Alan looked pleased.
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“You have a long road ahead of you,” Sylvan said.
“Make good use of it.”
“I will.”
Their conversation ended there.
But Sylvan noticed something.
Alan kept glancing toward the doorway.
Once.
Twice.
Then again.
The boy’s expression slowly became more disappointed.
Sylvan said nothing.
A little while later, the breakfast came to an end.
The servants began clearing the table.
Alan stood from his chair.
Before leaving, he looked around the hall one more time.
“Where is Rose?” Alan thinks inside of his head.
Alan frowned, and just whisper softly
“I wanted to see her before I leave.”
Alan looked toward the doors.
Perhaps she was somewhere else.
Perhaps she simply hadn’t heard that he was leaving.
He walked out of the breakfast hall.
He searched the nearby corridors.
He checked the garden.
He passed the library.
He even asked one of the servants whether they had seen his sister.
No one could give him an answer.
At last, he returned to the courtyard.
His carriage waited there.
The horses stamped impatiently against the stone.
Alan stood beside the carriage, his school things already packed.
He looked back toward the mansion.
His eyes had become wet.
He quickly lowered his head.
He did not want anyone to see him cry.
He had wanted to say goodbye to Rosylin.
Even if it were only for a moment.
Even if she only smiled at him.
But she never came.
Cedric approached him.
For a moment, the sternness that usually surrounded the Lord of Valemont seemed to disappear.
He placed a hand on Alan’s shoulder.
“You will be fine.”
Alan nodded.
His lips trembled slightly.
Cedric pulled him into a brief embrace.
Then he gently patted his son’s head.
“Study well.
Do not disappoint yourself.”
Alan closed his eyes for a moment.
“I won’t, Father.”
Cedric released him.
Alan climbed into the carriage.
Before the door closed, he looked toward the mansion one last time.
Still no Rosylin.
His eyes filled again.
The carriage began to move.
Far from the courtyard, behind a tall stone corridor that overlooked the grounds, someone stood silently.
Rosylin.
She had watched everything.
She had seen Alan searching for her.
She had seen the disappointment in his face when he could not find her.
And she had seen her father embrace him.
Rosylin pressed her fingers against the cold stone wall.
Her eyes remained fixed on the carriage as it slowly disappeared beyond the gates.
She wasn’t jealous.
Never.
Alan was her little brother.
She loved him.
She had always loved him.
If anything, she was happy for him.
He deserved his father’s affection.
He deserved the warm words.
He deserved the gentle hand upon his head.
He deserved everything Rosylin herself had once wished for as a child.
Her eyes followed the carriage until it became nothing more than a distant shape.
Then she looked toward her father.
Cedric was still standing in the courtyard.
Watching his son leave.
Rosylin’s lips trembled.
A painful question rose inside her.
Why?
Why could he love Alan so easily?
Why could he smile at Noah?
Why could he proudly celebrate Roy?
Why could he look at his sons and see something worth protecting?
Why had he never looked at her the same way?
Rosylin lowered her eyes.
She remembered being a little girl.
Waiting.
Always waiting.
Waiting for her father to look at her.
Waiting for him to ask whether she had eaten.
Waiting for him to ask whether she was cold.
Waiting for him to call her daughter with the same warmth he gave his sons.
It had never happened.
Not once.
Her chest tightened.
She pressed a hand against her heart.
“I don’t hate you, Alan…”
Her voice broke.
“I never could.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Then another.
Rosylin quickly wiped them away, but more followed.
She looked toward the empty road where Alan had disappeared.
She loved her brother.
That was why the sight of her father loving him hurt so much.
Not because Alan had received something she wanted to take from him.
But because, for the first time, she could see exactly what she had been denied.
A father’s embrace.
A father’s pride.
A father’s acceptance.
Just once.
She wished he had tried.
Just once.
She wished her father had looked at her and thought—
She is my daughter.
Rosylin’s shoulders began to tremble.
She turned away from the courtyard before anyone could see her.
She walked slowly down the empty corridor.
But she could not hold the tears back anymore.
She covered her mouth with one hand as a quiet sob escaped.
The mansion remained busy behind her.
People continued with their morning.
The servants continued working.
The family continued living.
And somewhere beyond the gates, Alan was beginning a new chapter of his life.
Rosylin stood alone in the quiet corridor.
Crying for something she had wanted since childhood.
Something so small.
Something that should have been hers from the beginning.
A father’s love.
And for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to cry without trying to stop.