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"Sir Sonnyo!"
Eileen greeted him happily, and Sonnyo offered a slight smile.
The man with silver-streaked hair and mustache looked stern and pedantic, but he had always been soft and welcoming with Eileen.
He had once served as the head butler in the Prince's palace, and when Cesare became a Grand Duke, he had moved with him to the Imperial Palace.
Naturally, he and Eileen were well-acquainted.
"Please, come inside."
Sonnyo respectfully escorted Eileen, politely offering, "While you wait, would you like some tea in the parlor?"
"Yes... tell me, is...
His Grace..."
She asked cautiously about Cesare, and Sonnyo’s expression darkened slightly.
He answered softly, but with an apologetic tone:
"I am sorry, but it seems you won't be able to see him today."
"Oh..."
From his apologetic look, she understood everything immediately: Cesare had instructed Sonnyo not to admit her.
Before coming to the Duke's residence, she had imagined many scenarios.
Many different ones.
But among them was not one where Cesare would refuse to receive her.
*‘I’ve grown too used to taking his attention for granted.’*
His love and interest were not eternal.
Like a candle—it burns brightly, but one puff of air and the flame is extinguished.
Cesare was not fickle, but the smallest reason was enough for his feelings to cool.
*‘Has he lost interest in me?’*
At the mere thought, everything went dark before her eyes.
Their relationship was one-sided, and Eileen was in a vulnerable position.
If Cesare cooled toward her, she would never see him again.
*‘It was the same during the war...’*
When he stopped answering letters, she could only wait.
Eileen’s face clouded over, and Sonnyo hurried to comfort her.
"I bought a cake from the new pastry shop.
Would you care to try it with some tea?"
He took her outer coat and easily, as if it were the most natural thing, seated Eileen on the sofa in the parlor.
She sank onto the seat and finally placed the watch box, which she had been holding carefully, beside her.
The purchase had seemed stylish and expensive to her, but here, on the sofa in the Duke's residence, it paled.
Both she and the gift felt like strangers here.
While Eileen tried to swallow the lump in her throat, Sonnyo brought tea and treats—a perfectly matched set, as if he knew all her preferences.
Milk tea with sugar—soft and sweet; a cake with a thick layer of whipped cream; all sorts of cookies...
All her favorite desserts.
On any other day, she would have happily picked up a fork, but today, even the sight of the sweets didn't trigger an appetite.
For the sake of politeness, she broke off a piece of cake, but it felt tasteless, as if she had lost her ability to taste.
Eventually, she set the fork down.
"..."
She couldn't control her expression.
She tried to smile, but her lips felt as if they had turned to stone.
Right now, she was holding on with her last bit of strength to keep from crying.
Eileen clenched her teeth, suppressing the rising tears.
Sonnyo, who had been watching her, placed a handkerchief before her and quietly left the parlor.
His delicacy only made the lump in her throat larger.
Her nose tickled, and, clutching the handkerchief tightly, she tilted her head back.
She remembered the old man calling her his bride.
At the thought that she would now have to kiss him instead of Cesare, everything went dark.
To bear a child, she would have to do much more.
The revulsion she’d felt when he’d roughly pushed back her hair still echoed vividly.
But most of all, the thought that she might never see Cesare again tormented her.
Judging by the talk of moving abroad, that man was a foreign aristocrat.
If she left with him, she would lose even the possibility of hearing news about Cesare.
By staying in the Empire, she could at least read about him in the papers and meet him occasionally.
*‘If I had become the Grand Duchess...’*
Even in that case, when she now couldn't give him a child, it would still have been better.
The thought that her refusal to marry and her whims might have pushed Cesare away suddenly pierced her.
Late remorse gnawed at her, but nothing could be fixed now.
Eileen held back her tears, gradually accepting the situation.
A familiar submissiveness quietly enveloped her in shadow.
She smoothed the crumpled handkerchief, folded it neatly, and placed it back on the table.
*‘But I will still give him the watch.’*
Since she had come here, she wanted to present it.
She had bought it as a backup anyway, so even if it looked unremarkable—it didn't matter.
Maybe, if she were lucky, Cesare would soften upon seeing the gift.
Though he was a man of firm decisions, so there was almost no chance.
But Eileen still clung to a tiny hope.
*‘If I leave it with Sonnyo, he will deliver it,’* she thought, about to rise from the sofa, but then her gaze fell on the window.
The parlor had a wide window overlooking the inner courtyard.
Beyond it stood an orange tree.
Enthralled, Eileen approached the window, looking at the tree with its orange fruits.
She hadn't expected to see an orange tree in his residence.
Mentally, she returned to the orange tree at the brick house.
He had given it to her because of that kidnapping incident.
*"You won't have to guess its taste anymore."*
Since she had been kidnapped because of orange candies, he had simply planted an orange tree in the yard.
The three of them had shared its first fruits: Cesare, his mother, and Eileen.
Gazing at the tree, she suddenly noticed a man at the far end of the gallery, walking with a leisurely pace.
He appeared and disappeared behind the trees, but she recognized him at first glance.
Eileen already wanted to throw open the window and call out to him...
"..."
But, gripping the handle, she froze.
She didn't open the window.
She didn't call out.
Cesare had already made it clear he didn't want to see her.
Disturbing him now would be foolish.
She feared it would only increase his displeasure.
She was about to move away from the window when Cesare looked in her direction.
Through the green foliage, a scarlet gaze flashed.
Those bright eyes stared intently at her.
It seemed he was about to go out—he wore a full suit and a coat.
Since their eyes had met, ignoring him was no longer an option.
Eileen bowed cautiously.
Cesare looked at her silently, then smiled slightly.
With a crooked smirk, he crossed the courtyard.
Eileen, watching him approach, didn't know what to do and only fidgeted with her fingers, standing by the window.
*Tap, tap.* Having come right up to the window, Cesare lightly tapped on the glass.
Wearing leather gloves, the sound was dull.
Eileen hesitated, then opened the latch and slightly cracked open the window.
As soon as a gap appeared, he threw it wide with a strong hand.
The rushing breeze rustled the leaves, like the surf of a sea.
Eileen was enveloped by the cool, rich scent emanating from Cesare.
With wide eyes, she spoke timidly.
"Your Grace..."
Cesare looked down at her.
"What is it, Eileen?"
At the mere sound of his voice, tears were ready to pour.
She held on with all her might, but now, before him, no strength remained.
Clenching her teeth, she whispered:
"I wanted... to give you a gift...
It’s nothing special, just...
I wanted to congratulate you on your victory..."
Without finishing her sentence, she held out the watch box.
From how tightly she’d been clutching it, fingerprints remained on the velvet.
She quickly wiped them away and presented the box.
Cesare opened it immediately.
Seeing the contents, he froze for a moment.
He was silent for a long time.
*What is wrong with him?*
Eileen was already prepared to bite her lip in anxiety when she finally heard his quiet murmur:
"So, initially, it looked like this."
A strange tone.
As if he had already known about this platinum pocket watch.