She blinked in irritation when she heard the soft knock on her bedroom door—the kind that disrupted sleep without fully breaking it.
As soon as she opened her eyes, surprise washed over her at the unfamiliar surroundings.
Then awareness returned, and she murmured drowsily,
"Right… I'm in Carlton. This is the Duke's palace."
Martha entered quietly and asked with courtesy,
"Are you awake, my lady?"
"Yes."
Neris sat up in bed as Martha opened the window. Warm air drifted inside, stirring the soft white curtains and carrying the scent of the sea with it.
The moment Neris registered that detail, a sudden excitement stirred within her.
She moved straight toward the balcony.
The sea appeared on the horizon—so intensely blue it nearly rivaled the sky itself. The sight filled her with a refreshing clarity, awakening an immediate desire to go down to the shore.
She glanced at the young maid beside her. Martha stood still, gazing at the sea with equal awe.
Neris asked softly,
"Is this your first time seeing the sea too, Martha?"
Martha blinked, then replied shyly,
"Yes, my lady."
"It truly is beautiful."
After washing, Martha helped her dress and style her hair, lifting it up in a way that accentuated the graceful line of her neck and her golden eyes.
She wore an elegant summer dress, then left the room with Martha beside her.
Downstairs, she encountered Jason, the head butler. She greeted him politely, and he bowed with respect.
"Good morning, my lady. Please call me Jess from now on."
Neris glanced around, unconsciously trying to determine where Adrian might be—but she swallowed the question and smiled instead.
"Very well, Jess."
He nodded warmly and gestured toward the dining room.
"Breakfast has been prepared for you. The Duke left early for work and won't return until evening."
Relief settled over her instantly.
Whenever he wasn't nearby, her body seemed to relax on its own. Adrian von Dyssehard never realized how his presence alone unsettled her peace—especially when he looked at her with those gray eyes. Each time, it felt as though winter arrived without warning.
As she entered the dining room, she murmured to herself,
"What a beautiful morning. Finally, I can eat without my stomach rebelling."
She sat down and enjoyed her breakfast quietly. Afterward, she asked Jess to take her on a walk outside the palace.
He led her to the back garden, which was noticeably neglected. Beyond it stood an annex closer to the shore, unlike the main palace, which sat farther inland.
Due to Carlton's soil, forests were rare—but trees had been planted around the annex nonetheless, though they too had been left unattended.
"The Duke ordered immediate renovations to the annex and the garden upon his arrival," Jess explained.
"That's good," Neris replied. "It would be a shame to neglect a place with such a view."
"Yes. I don't believe His Grace intends to neglect anything in Carlton. He toured the entire city this morning."
"That makes sense," Neris said calmly. "Carlton is his land now."
"Indeed. The people are optimistic about Duke Dyssehard's arrival. They expect employment to rise, and many who left may return."
She nodded but remained silent, choosing to finish her walk without comment.
When the tour ended, she told Jess she wished to visit the beach. He suggested she take an escort, but she asked instead for Martha to accompany her.
It wasn't a conscious decision—it was her body responding to a need.
A need for air that hadn't passed through long corridors or carried the palace's scent.
She stepped through the small iron gate behind the palace, Martha beside her.
That alone felt strange.
The path sloped gently downward, lined with wild plants untouched by human hands.
She smelled iodine before she saw the water—sharp, clean, like something endlessly washed yet never exhausted.
Her chest expanded with the breath she drew.
Morning lingered on the shore.
The sun hung above Carlton as if unwilling to hurry.
The sea was calm, moving slowly, heavily—dark blue, shimmering wherever sunlight touched it.
She removed her gloves and let her fingers brush the air.
When she reached the shore, she stopped.
The sand wasn't entirely soft—mixed with small stones that pressed beneath her feet.
The waves didn't crash. They arrived, retreated, then returned again—as though the sea itself were breathing. Each wave crept shyly toward the shore, only to flee, then try again.
The beach never seemed to tire of this rhythm.
Each time a wave withdrew, it welcomed the next.
Neris smiled as she watched, Martha no less delighted beside her.
She thought of Mary.
She would have loved this.
Neris sat on a low rock, resting her palms behind her.
For the first time since arriving… she didn't feel watched.
She thought of Mary again.
Then of Henry's laugh—too loud, always announcing his presence.
She missed them both suddenly, painfully, illogically. She had never expected to miss Henry, yet in this life he had valued their friendship deeply, never abandoning her despite his fondness for Cecile.
She slipped off her shoes, lifted her dress slightly, and stepped closer to the water.
She chose to stand between the waves and the shore.
She walked across the sand, leaving fleeting footprints—only for the next wave to wash them away without hesitation, soaking her feet.
The sensation was wonderful.
There was comfort in how quickly things disappeared.
As if what doesn't remain… cannot wound.
Carlton was beautiful.
Beautiful in a way that didn't seek admiration—only claimed it.
And yet…
She felt temporary here.
As though the land itself knew she wasn't yet part of its story.
She turned to Martha and said,
"Martha… what do you think about running along the shore?"
Martha's eyes widened.
"Running? But my lady—that isn't proper."
Neris shrugged lightly.
"There's no one here to see a noble lady running. And I was told I may do as I please. Come—let's run."
She grabbed Martha's hand and pulled her along. They raced across the sand and between the waves, laughing freely.
Her heart filled with fresh air.
It was the first time she'd felt this kind of unrestrained freedom.
Then she stopped—suddenly—as though her body remembered where she was.
They returned to the rock, both breathless. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she caught her breath.
She looked once more at the horizon.
The vast sea felt overwhelming now—its immensity made her aware of her own smallness. It could swallow her whole in an instant.
Despite its beauty, it inspired awe—and fear.
The sea was never entirely safe.
In a single moment, it could consume everything within it… unnoticed.
The thought reminded her of Adrian.
He resembles the sea sometimes.
A chill ran through her.
She stood and said quietly,
"Let's go back."
The palace awaited her as she'd left it.
The silence hadn't changed—yet it felt lighter.
Servants moved calmly, bowing in respect.
Then she noticed him.
He stood in the middle of the hall, facing Jason, with Edwin beside him.
When did he return?
Jason had said evening—yet it was still midday.
He lifted his head calmly. Their eyes met.
He wasn't surprised.
He didn't smile.
He didn't frown.
One brief glance was enough to make her feel that he had known all along.
She took two steps forward, then stopped.
There was no reason to retreat—nor any true reason to advance.
She bowed politely.
He returned the greeting with an elegant nod.
Then he passed her.
Close enough for her to feel a faint coolness in the air… and a subtle scent—not cologne, but something clean, like mint mixed with sea air.
As he walked past, his gaze remained on her—measuring, assessing.
The intensity made her tense.
Then he turned away and ascended the stairs, Edwin following, offering her a wide smile.
Neris remained where she stood, something strange crawling beneath her skin.
He hadn't stopped her.
Hadn't encouraged her.
Hadn't asked where she'd been.
He had only looked at her.
Yet everything had shifted.
And for the first time, she realized—
Her freedom here
was not a coincidence.