The Ashford family remained at the Valemont castle for three days after Noah’s wedding.
The castle had not returned to its usual silence.
Every morning brought new guests, conversations, servants carrying trays through the corridors, and preparations for another evening of celebration.
For most people, the three days were filled with happiness.
For Rosylin, they were three more days in which she had to remain invisible.
She had escaped her room only once.
On the night of Noah’s wedding.
She had returned before anyone discovered her absence, and she had convinced herself that the strange encounter in the garden had ended there.
She was wrong.
The next afternoon, Rosylin quietly made her way toward the library.
The library was different from every other place in the castle.
It did not care who she was.
The books did not look at her with disgust.
The shelves did not whisper about her.
The silence did not demand that she leave.
When she was twelve, she had discovered the library by accident.
She had been forbidden from receiving a proper education, but she had refused to remain ignorant.
So she had taught herself.
Letter by letter.
Word by word.
Book by book.
Over the years, the library had become the only place where Rosylin could feel that she belonged somewhere.
She pushed open the heavy wooden door.
The familiar smell of old paper surrounded her.
Rosylin breathed quietly.
For the first time that day, she felt safe.
She wasn’t wearing a maid’s uniform.
There was no reason to wear one inside the library.
She had on an old, faded dress that had clearly seen better days.
The sleeves were slightly loose, the fabric was wrinkled, and her burgundy hair had not been properly arranged.
A few strands rested against her pale face.
She didn’t care.
Nobody usually came here looking for her.
Rosylin walked between the shelves.
She ran her fingers gently across the spines of the books.
Then she stopped in front of a familiar section.
She pulled out a thick old book.
A small smile appeared on her lips.
“Still here.”
She opened it.
The quiet sound of turning pages filled the room.
She became so absorbed in the book that she didn’t hear the library door open.
She didn’t notice the footsteps.
She didn’t know that another person had entered the room.
A person who had come there for exactly the same reason.
Sylvan Ashford had always loved books.
The library was one of the few places in the castle where he could escape the noise of nobles and wedding celebrations.
He preferred silence.
He preferred books to meaningless conversations.
So, during his family’s three-day stay at the Valemont castle, the library had naturally become one of the places he visited.
He entered quietly.
His black hair fell naturally across his forehead, and his blue eyes moved over the shelves.
He took a few steps.
Then stopped.
There was someone standing near the books.
A young woman.
Not a maid.
Sylvan’s eyes narrowed.
He knew her.
The girl from the garden.
The one who had claimed to be a maid.
But she wasn’t wearing a maid’s uniform.
He remained silent.
Rosylin continued reading.
Sylvan watched her.
He had expected her to look ordinary once the maid’s clothing was gone.
Instead, he found himself staring longer than he intended.
Her long burgundy hair fell loosely around her shoulders.
Her pale skin looked almost silver beneath the soft light coming through the tall windows.
Her rose-colored lips moved faintly as she read.
Her old clothing should have made her look insignificant.
It didn’t.
Sylvan’s expression remained cold.
But something inside that expression shifted.
Only slightly.
He looked away.
Then, against his own intention, his eyes returned to her.
Beautiful.
The thought appeared without permission.
He immediately dismissed it.
Beauty meant nothing.
He had seen beautiful women before.
He had never cared.
He had spent years keeping his distance from women who tried to gain his attention.
He wasn’t interested in flirtation.
He wasn’t interested in meaningless attraction.
And he certainly wasn’t the kind of man who would lose his composure because of a woman’s face.
Yet the girl standing in front of him was beginning to disturb that perfect indifference.
Not because she was beautiful alone.
There was something else.
She looked completely different from the frightened maid he had seen the previous night.
She looked peaceful here.
Almost as though the library belonged to her.
Sylvan’s eyes narrowed.
Interesting.
He finally spoke.
“You aren’t wearing a maid’s uniform.”
Rosylin froze.
The book in her hands stopped moving.
She slowly turned.
Her eyes widened.
It was him.
The man from the garden.
The man who had found Rizel.
The man who had looked at her as though he could see through every lie she told.
Rosylin’s fingers tightened around the book.
“I…”
Sylvan looked at her clothes.
Then back at her face.
“Yesterday, you told me you were a maid.”
Rosylin swallowed.
“I am.”
His expression remained unreadable.
“Then why aren’t you dressed like one?”
“I wasn’t working.”
“Here?”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
“Doing what?”
Rosylin glanced at the book.
“Reading.”
Sylvan looked at the book.
Then at her.
“A maid who comes to the library to read?”
Rosylin became defensive.
“Are maids not allowed to read?”
He paused.
“No.”
She blinked.
“Then what’s the problem?”
For the first time, something almost resembling amusement touched his eyes.
“You’re asking me questions now.”
Rosylin immediately realized what she had done.
She lowered her gaze.
“Sorry.”
Sylvan studied her.
Yesterday she had been cautious.
Today she was stubborn.
And somehow, both versions of her seemed equally real.
He took a slow step closer.
Rosylin instinctively stepped backward.
His eyes followed the movement.
“You ran away from me yesterday.”
“I had somewhere to go.”
“You ran.”
“I was leaving.”
“You were running.”
Rosylin pressed her lips together.
He was impossible.
“You seem very interested in what I was doing.”
“I am.”
The direct answer caught her off guard.
“Why?”
“Because you lied to me.”
“I didn’t.”
“You told me you were a maid.”
“I am a maid.”
“Then explain something.”
His voice remained calm.
“When you saw me yesterday, you didn’t address me as someone of my rank.”
Rosylin went still.
Sylvan continued.
“Any servant familiar with the household would know how to address me.”
She looked away.
“I didn’t know who you were.”
“Exactly.”
He paused.
“That’s what makes you suspicious.”
Rosylin’s heart began beating faster.
She couldn’t let this man keep asking questions.
If he discovered who she was—
everything would be over.
She closed the book.
“I have to go.”
Sylvan moved slightly, blocking the easiest path toward the door.
“Who are you?”
Rosylin looked at him.
“My name is Rosylin.”
“Your full name.”
She said nothing.
His blue eyes remained fixed on her.
“Rosylin what?”
She lowered her eyes.
“Just Rosylin.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only answer I can give.”
Something changed in Sylvan’s expression.
The girl was hiding something.
He was certain of it now.
But he couldn’t understand why.
She wasn’t behaving like someone trying to gain his attention.
She wasn’t flirting.
She wasn’t trying to impress him.
If anything, she seemed desperate to stay away from him.
And that made her even more interesting.
He looked at her again.
Her hair.
Her eyes.
Her worn dress.
The strange sadness that seemed permanently hidden behind her expression.
For a brief moment, his cold composure cracked again.
She was beautiful.
Far more beautiful than any ordinary maid had any right to be.
He looked away before the thought could remain.
“You’re strange.”
Rosylin frowned.
“I don’t think I’m strange.”
“You are.”
“How?”
“You make people curious.”
Rosylin stared at him.
“I don’t want anyone to be curious about me.”
The answer came so quietly that Sylvan almost missed it.
His eyes returned to her.
There was something painful in her voice.
For a moment, he didn’t speak.
Then Rosylin suddenly moved.
She slipped past him.
Sylvan turned.
“Wait.”
She didn’t.
She ran.
“Rosylin.”
She hurried through the library door.
Sylvan followed.
Her footsteps echoed through the corridor.
She looked back once.
He was coming after her.
Her heart pounded harder.
Why was he following her?
She turned down another corridor.
Then another.
She knew these halls better than he did.
She had spent years moving through the castle unnoticed.
She quickly slipped behind a narrow passage and disappeared into a small unused room.
She closed the door carefully.
Then held her breath.
Footsteps approached.
Sylvan stopped outside.
Rosylin pressed one hand against her mouth.
Don’t breathe.
Don’t move.
The footsteps remained there for several seconds.
Then—
silence.
Rosylin waited.
A minute passed.
Then another.
Finally, she dared to breathe.
Outside the room, Sylvan stood alone in the corridor.
He looked toward the passage where she had disappeared.
Nothing.
She was gone.
He had lost her.
For a moment, he simply stared at the empty corridor.
Then a faint smile appeared on his lips.
It was small.
Almost reluctant.
But it was there.
“Interesting.”
He had not expected her to escape him.
He had expected fear.
Instead, she had run—and somehow managed to disappear inside his own family’s castle.
Sylvan quietly shook his head.
“Who are you?”
He looked toward the library.
He had entered that room because he loved books.
He hadn’t expected to find a mystery waiting between the shelves.
And yet now, the mysterious girl had become more interesting to him than the book he had originally come to read.
He turned away.
The faint smile disappeared.
His cold expression returned.
But the question remained.
Who was Rosylin?
And why was a girl who claimed to be nothing more than a maid hiding so much?