Late in the night, the door opened quietly.
Instantly sensing the presence of an intruder, he grabbed the dagger lying at the head of his bed, leapt up, and neutralized the intruder.
In the lamplight, it turned out to be a maid from the estate.
Upon seeing Ryan, she confidently declared:
"Oh, it's not even the lieutenant colonel. Let me go. I'm in the wrong room."
Then she shamelessly added that she had a secret meeting with Lieutenant Colonel Ryan—who had returned to the estate today—and demanded that he keep quiet.
"But you're my type, by the way. How about tomorrow? Actually, I like all military men."
The maid looked straight at the man she was searching for, but still didn't understand.
Ryan grinned wryly at such stupidity.
Luckily, he was fed up with the crowds of visitors and had ordered his butler to tell everyone he was simply a *friend* of the lieutenant colonel. Otherwise, the insolent maid wouldn't have backed down so easily.
Immediately ordering his butler to dismiss her, Ryan realized that even in his capital mansion there was no peace—and returned to army headquarters, where he spent the night.
But even there, he did not find peace of mind.
---
Negotiations for peace and discussions of the soldiers' merits began.
Preparations for peace negotiations were still tolerable. The enemy was a defeated country and behaved with extreme politeness and accommodatingness in order to secure more favorable terms.
Ryan had the hardest time with the generals of his own—Albion's—army.
Before the awards were presented, a war council was held. There, Ryan had to listen to a great deal.
"We highly value your merits, but you are still too young for such a reward..."
"Why did you retreat so quickly at the Battle of Ingon? If you hadn't retreated then, we would have captured that territory much faster. You even ignored your command's orders..."
"I heard you forced the previous battalion commander to hand over independent operations to you. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"
Those who had remained silent while he was winning victories now—after the war ended—pounced on him with blazing eyes, trying to belittle his achievements.
This duplicity made him sick.
*He had never aspired to perform great feats.*
He just wanted to survive and return home with his people.
He simply acted to survive, and in the process, he saved everyone and defeated the enemy—and the world suddenly hailed him as a hero.
And now that the hero was no longer needed, they tried to overthrow him.
---
While his body and spirit were being exhausted by constant summons to the war council, he was visited by Baron Stanford, who had once been his superior.
Baron Stanford—one of the few people Ryan truly respected—said to him with a serious expression:
"You need rest. Time spent away from these tiresome people, in the embrace of pure and beautiful nature. Maybe your deathly pale complexion will improve a little."
With these words, he named a place Ryan had never heard of: **Feltham**.
"There's a small vacation estate there called Blissbury. I don't go there often, but I treasure it very much. If you go off to such a remote place, supposedly for treatment, the military council won't call you back unnecessarily. How about that? Relax for six months, then come back."
The offer wasn't bad. It wouldn't be crowded, and he wouldn't have to constantly feel disgusted at the sight of people, as he had in New.
Noticing that Ryan was lost in thought, Baron Stanford patted him on the shoulder and smiled.
"I bet you'll love this place. Everything is so beautiful there."
---
*...And here it is.*
To be honest, he hadn't been particularly thrilled to arrive today.
The rural landscapes he'd seen along the way were clean and quiet—unlike his home village—but that was all.
*A boring, quiet village, where it might be even harder than in the capital.*
Wildflowers blooming in spring and a fast-flowing, clear river might bring peace of mind, but they would soon become tedious.
*He will never fall in love with this unremarkable place.*
Remembering the face of Baron Stanford, who had so confidently promised him he would like everything, Ryan smiled bitterly.
Be that as it may, he was very grateful for his kindness. So he should at least try to find some peace here before returning.
They said there was a good library on the estate.
He wasn't much of a reader, but other than that, it seemed like there wasn't much to do here in the six months he'd be staying.
Formally, he was the manager, but there was already a *real* manager here—so he could just live quietly and leave.
*He won't repair the estate or tend the farm himself.*
He threw the towel he'd been using to dry his hair onto the chair and looked again at the drawing left on the table.
"...Eloise, then."
The manager's daughter.
He remembered the tousled light brown hair and the fierce green eyes she'd looked at him with.
Although she'd looked unkempt, if she were dressed decently, she would probably appear quite ladylike.
*"That's right—she was introduced as Miss Eloise."*
In the Albion marriage market, women in their twenties were already in a hurry.
She looked well past twenty, but they still called her *"Miss Eloise"*—which meant she was one of those women villages were full of: past marriageable age.
**"You must avoid her at all costs—even casual encounters."**
With his tarnished reputation, it was unlikely anyone would dare approach Ryan Wilgrave.
But here, he was **Sergeant Ryan Thornton**.
An unmarried military man. Moreover, he considered himself physically healthy and not bad-looking.
He had a clear idea of what a valuable prospect he would be in such a village.
Perhaps, as in the capital, there would be those who would try to marry him—even by causing a scandal.
*"Although she didn't seem like that kind of woman..."*
He remembered her stubborn expression and tightly pressed lips when he'd deliberately said something rude to her.
Not only had she not tried to flirt with him—it seemed she was ready to slap him.
Ryan chuckled softly and looked at the drawing she had dropped.
Although the artist looked inexperienced, the skill was quite good.
Then he saw the name **"Ryan Wilgrave"** in the corner.
The drawing was obviously based on the fake portrait of him. Since it wasn't his real face, it would have been easy to laugh it off and forget about it, but...
His gaze dropped to the lower portion of the drawing.
*No, no matter how much he looked, it was too small.*
But for the sake of Ryan Wilgrave's honor, he couldn't show her the true... size.
Feeling unfairly offended, he folded the paper and placed it in a desk drawer.
In any case, for the sake of his own peace of mind, he had to make sure this shameless woman never showed up in Blissbury again.
---
## — A Friend's Visit —
Abigail Ogilvy, the eldest daughter of the Ogilvy family, was always a calm and quiet woman.
Sometimes she behaved unexpectedly harshly, but this only manifested itself among her closest people—so in society, she was considered very modest.
As a child, she had suffered a severe illness that left her with a limp, and her great-aunt, Lady Clavis, out of pity for her, had set up a living trust.
*One hundred pounds a year.*
This amount was enough to live comfortably in the village, even employing a servant.
Besides, she still lived with her family, so she could save most of this money.
And in Feltham, there were only two unmarried women who had achieved such financial independence.
One was Abigail.
The other was Eloise.
Abigail, thanks to a trust from her great-aunt. Eloise, thanks to the savings her parents had made for her as their only daughter.
Because of this common trait, they had been very close friends since childhood.
So much so that they could visit each other at any time, without even making an appointment.
Today was no exception.
"Eloise! I'm here!"
Abigail called from the doorway, leaning on her cane.
Emily emerged and bowed slightly.
However much Emily might have feuded with the Ogilvy maid, she was not so rude as to greet guests impolitely.
"My lady hasn't left her room since yesterday."
"Why? Is she sick?"
Abigail asked worriedly, remembering that Eloise was often ill at this time of year.
"I doubt it. She ate two bowls of stew I brought her and didn't leave a single crumb. So it seems she's got something on her mind, but she's as silent as an oyster—and I can't find out what it is."
Then Emily whispered in Abigail's ear:
"Or rather, she's been like this since yesterday, after returning from Blissbury. Could you, my lady, find out what happened there?"
Abigail smiled wryly, seeing the maid dying of curiosity about why her mistress was behaving this way.
"All right. The weather is so wonderful today—I'll definitely take her out for a walk."
---
Using her cane, Abigail climbed the tall steps and knocked on the door of Eloise's room, where bunches of dried herbs hung.
"Eloise."
*...*
There was no response.
After a moment's hesitation, Abigail smiled and picked up her cane.
Then, without hesitation, she threw it on the floor.