Neris hadn't planned to go out that morning.
But after crossing paths with Adrian in the hallway, the palace no longer felt like a place she could remain in for long.
She had the unsettling sense that the walls were watching her more closely than before—
not because she had done something wrong,
but because something had shifted… without her understanding how.
Once again, Adrian had left early that morning, which allowed her to eat breakfast in relative comfort.
The weather was genuinely beautiful; Carlton was a wonderful destination, especially in summer.
The garden, however, was still unfinished. Gardeners were tending to the trees and had planted several flowers that had yet to bloom. There was no quiet corner suitable for sitting peacefully among the greenery.
So she went looking for Jess, eventually finding him.
She asked him directly,
"Jess, I'd like to take care of the palace library and update it."
He looked surprised, and before he could respond, she added,
"Will that be a problem?"
Jason smiled and replied calmly,
"No, not at all. It's just that the library has been closed for many years. It's cleaned periodically, then locked again. That's why your request surprised me, my lady."
Neris nodded.
"Then I can begin tending to it."
"Yes, of course."
When Neris entered the library, the scent of aged paper and wood greeted her. It was the same scent she had noticed on her first day—a fragrance the library seemed to have chosen for itself and decided never to abandon.
The smell of books pleased her deeply; it seeped into her mind and settled her thoughts almost instantly.
The light was dim. Due to the palace's age, electricity had only been installed in certain areas. It seemed the Duke had forgotten about the library altogether, leaving it dependent on oil lamps.
Tall windows allowed sunlight to slip in at an angle, as though even the light didn't wish to disturb the space.
She approached one of the shelves, letting her fingers trail over titles that hadn't been opened in years.
The thought of restoring this place invigorated her slightly.
She didn't smile, but she felt something settle in her chest.
As though she had found a foothold—small, yet real.
Surveying the towering shelves, she decided she would personally catalogue every book to determine its historical value. Then she turned to Jason and asked,
"Jess, could we also have electricity installed in the library?"
"Yes, certainly. We're currently installing an electric heating system in the greenhouse. Once that's finished, I'll have them connect the library as well."
At the mention of the greenhouse, Neris's eyes lit up.
"May I see the greenhouse?"
Jason led her there soon after.
The greenhouse had been abandoned and neglected.
She entered through the glass corridor leading to it and stopped without speaking.
The space was wide, filled with withering plants. The disorder was unmistakable—long branches growing without guidance, wilted flowers, others blooming without pattern.
She said quietly, as if to herself,
"This place was left to die slowly."
Then added,
"It needs someone to care for it."
Jason looked at her cautiously.
"I'm sorry, my lady, but I can't approve such a thing without permission. Oversight of the greenhouse falls under the hostess's responsibilities."
She nodded.
"I know."
She fell silent, thinking. Protocol dictated that tending to something as important as the greenhouse was the duty of the palace hostess. To gain permission, she would need approval from the Duchess—Lysaria or Helen.
But the palace currently had no hostess.
Surely that was reason enough.
Then she said,
"But I can take care of it."
"Miss Neris—"
She interrupted him gently,
"I'm not asking for permission from you."
She turned to him, her gaze steady.
"Just… inform Edwin."
Edwin had left with Adrian that morning. By Jason's estimate, she would need to wait until evening for his return—he wouldn't come back unexpectedly as he had the day before.
She left the greenhouse and returned to the library. If she was going to stay here for a while, she needed to organize the space to suit her tastes—this would likely become where she spent most of her time.
She walked toward the massive windows, where heavy velvet curtains the color of dark wine blocked out the outside world. She grasped the fabric, felt its roughness beneath her fingers, and pulled hard.
Light burst into the room. Dust particles rose and danced in golden beams. She struggled with the heavy brass latch, but after several attempts, the glass panel swung open, letting in a cool breeze carrying the scent of dust and distant sea air.
She finally saw the view clearly—the garden still under construction, gardeners appearing like distant silhouettes among the trees and stone paths. Beyond it stretched the deep blue sea, calm beneath the summer sun, gleaming like polished silk.
She whispered to herself, her voice firm with resolve,
"We'll start here, Neris. Order is the first step to claiming a place."
She began her work with methodical precision, taking out her pen and notebook to catalogue every book.
Her hand moved over leather bindings—some smooth as silk, others rough, edges worn by time and coastal dampness.
She classified them by scientific and historical significance, opening each book, breathing in the scent of aged paper, then carefully recording its title and publication date in her elegant handwriting.
Hours passed. The sun withdrew, shadows from the shelves stretching across her workspace. Evening arrived while she remained absorbed in her task, unaware that the library's light had dimmed to near darkness.
A chill crept into her fingertips, as though the palace were reminding her that it still belonged to its absent master—Adrian. She wondered whether he had returned, now that it was already evening.
She chose to ignore the thought and focused on finishing the final shelf. As she was recording the titles of books on natural philosophy, a sudden prickle ran along the back of her neck—the familiar sensation of being watched.
She turned quickly toward the half-open library door.
No one was there. Only the wavering shadows of oil lamps beginning to fade.
Then she realized the room was brighter than before.
When she stepped closer, she saw a newly placed oil lamp on the table near the door.
She hadn't heard anyone enter. But as she approached the lamp, a familiar scent reached her—tobacco and mint, carried softly on the air.
After leaving the library, she asked Martha to summon Edwin. He arrived shortly after, the exhaustion of a long workday evident on his face.
He stood straight, as though the moment were more formal than necessary.
"I'm sorry for calling you so suddenly," Neris said, "but there's something I wanted to ask."
"If this is about the greenhouse," Edwin replied, "Jess has already informed me."
"Then what do you think?"
He answered calmly,
"Your request is understandable, but it exceeds your authority—and mine as well. This decision belongs to the hostess of House Dyssehard."
But Neris didn't give up. She loved plants and flowers, and the greenhouse had no hostess to care for it anyway. She knew the request was unusual, yet she still wished to tend to it.
"Then… ask Lord Adrian."
Inside Adrian's room, he sat comfortably in a plush chair, one leg crossed over the other. His hair was still wet, droplets of water falling slowly. He looked at Edwin with calm gray eyes and responded as though the decision required no effort at all.
"She may take care of the greenhouse, if that's what she wants."
Edwin's eyebrows rose in surprise. Adrian had never involved himself in duties belonging to the Duchess. True, there was no hostess present—it made a certain sense to allow Miss Holsten to oversee it.
Still, Edwin knew his master well. Adrian was a man who adhered strictly to social protocol. Granting such permission was highly unusual.
Edwin stood there, waiting for an explanation.
Adrian gave none.
He lit a cigar and turned toward the window, gazing at the dark horizon of the sea, dismissing Edwin's presence entirely. Edwin eventually left to find Neris.
She was waiting in the reception room. She hadn't considered the outcome, yet she felt an odd weight—as though her request had never been as simple as it first appeared.
Edwin returned sooner than she expected.
"Duke Adrian has agreed."
She lifted her head slowly.
"He agreed?"
"Yes. Without discussion."
Silence followed.
No explanation.
No conditions.
Jason remained quiet, despite his surprise.
Neris returned to her room.
But this time, the feeling was different.
She didn't feel she had been granted a privilege.
She felt as though she had been placed beneath an unseen light.
She didn't know why he had allowed it.
Or why he hadn't asked a single question.
The freedom she had been given…
felt closer to a quiet, intelligent form of surveillance—one that never missed its mark.
And for the first time, she wondered:
Had I chosen this role?
Or had I begun moving within it… without realizing?