Several days had passed since the dinner at the manor.
Days that seemed calm on the surface—orderly, almost ordinary…
if Neris had not felt that everything was unfolding within a space being carefully observed.
She spent her time between the library and the greenhouse.
Organizing books, classifying them, opening windows, listing volumes no hand had touched for years.
In the greenhouse, her hands returned to an old memory: soil, leaves, the damp scent that resembled beginnings.
No one stopped her from arranging it as she pleased, shaping it according to her own vision.
And Adrian did not appear.
Which, somehow, weighed heavier than his presence.
That quiet morning, she felt an urgent need to go out.
Not to work. Not to the sea either.
Just… to breathe.
She wanted to go somewhere new.
She asked the driver Adrian had assigned to her to drop her off at one of the well-known, quiet cafés in central Carlton.
A refined café frequented by nobles.
An open place.
When she stepped out of the carriage and entered the elegant café, she noticed immediately how few tables were occupied. The atmosphere was refined, almost restrained.
The entire front of the café was glass, revealing a calm street lined with trees. Inside, the air was peaceful, soothing to the nerves.
She noticed the looks the moment she entered.
They were not hostile.
But they were assessing.
The kind of gaze people cast when they cannot decide whether the person before them is "ordinary"… or someone to be wary of.
She entered alone.
Neris chose a table by the window.
She sat quietly, back straight, hands resting on the table.
She had been aware of the stares from the very first moment—but she was used to them.
She ordered tea.
Then she took out a small notebook, where she had been writing notes about the greenhouse, inspired by the ideas that came to her in places like this.
At first, everything felt normal.
The words did not start loudly.
They began as whispers.
"Who is she?"
"I don't remember seeing her before."
"She's not a maid… but she doesn't look noble either."
She did not lift her head.
But she heard everything.
The woman seated behind her did not bother lowering her voice this time.
"Perhaps one of those women who sneak into refined places just to experience them."
A short laugh followed.
Neris tightened her jaw.
She closed her notebook slowly.
She still did not turn around.
A woman at the adjacent table said to the man beside her,
"Isn't it strange for a woman to come here alone?"
Neris finally turned.
She looked at them.
"The strange thing," she said calmly, "is that you are more concerned with me than with your own affairs."
A brief silence followed.
Then the man smiled—a provoking smile.
"We're just curious."
He leaned slightly forward.
"Carlton is a small city… new faces raise questions."
"Curiosity does not excuse rudeness."
The woman laughed.
"Rudeness? Oh my, how sensitive you are."
She leaned closer, as if deliberately dragging Neris into the exchange.
"So then, tell us—what family are you from?"
Neris did not retreat.
"That is none of your concern."
"Oh, but it concerns everyone," the woman replied, her voice rising.
"We don't appreciate outsiders who think sitting in a noble café makes them part of the place."
Several heads turned.
Attention began to gather.
Neris placed her palm on the table.
Not forcefully.
But firmly.
"If my presence bothers you this much," she said evenly, "then the problem is not me. It's your arrogance."
The woman replied coldly,
"And who is being rude now?"
Neris smiled.
A small, sharp smile.
"If you had been polite from the beginning, I wouldn't have needed to be rude at all."
Faces changed.
This was not the response they expected.
The man half rose from his seat.
"Watch your words, miss."
Neris lifted her chin slightly.
Her voice came out clear, steady.
"I am watching them carefully. I suggest you do the same."
A heavy silence followed.
She was alone.
But she did not break.
In the outer corridor of the café, leading to the second floor, Adrian Dysshard was passing by with his personal aide Edwin, followed by several company assistants.
He stopped suddenly.
Edwin continued speaking,
"My lord, today's meeting is extremely important—with the Imperial envoy regarding the exchange station—"
He fell silent when he noticed his master had stopped.
Adrian slowly turned his head.
He saw her through the glass.
The straight posture.
The shoulders held a little too high.
That kind of composure that appears only when someone is forcing themselves to remain steady.
He said nothing.
He simply changed direction.
Edwin frowned in surprise.
"My lord, the venue is on the second floor—"
He stopped when he followed Adrian's gaze and saw Neris inside.
The café door opened.
The sound was not loud.
But its presence was.
Neris did not turn immediately.
The others did.
The silence that fell was no coincidence.
Even the waiter froze for a moment.
Adrian stood at the entrance.
He did not move.
He did not speak.
His cold gaze swept across their faces.
It passed over the table.
The man.
The woman.
It was not a direct threat.
It was a reminder—of everyone's true position.
The man swallowed and sat down slowly.
The women exchanged tense glances.
Adrian did not need to introduce himself.
Everyone here knew the new owner of Carlton.
Duke Dyssehard.
Adrian finally moved.
He approached Neris's table.
She stood and inclined her head in a polite greeting, startled and unsettled by his sudden appearance.
Had he heard everything?
Her mind struggled to catch up.
He looked at her as if nothing else had happened around them.
As if the space had been created solely for him.
"Am I late?"
Neris looked at him.
She concealed the obvious confusion on her face.
"No," she replied quietly.
He pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down.
He did not look at anyone else.
He said nothing further.
But the entire café changed.
The whispers vanished.
Eyes lowered.
The bold conversations from moments ago… died completely.
The waiter arrived at once.
Placed a fresh cup in front of Adrian without being asked.
Adrian took a small sip, then spoke to Neris casually, his gaze fixed fully on her.
"The work in the library is progressing well."
She looked at him in surprise.
"Yes… better than I expected."
"And the greenhouse?"
"It needs time."
She hesitated, then added,
"But it's improving."
He looked at her.
A brief look.
Something she did not understand.
"Neglected places tend to do that," he said calmly.
"If someone pays attention."
The conversation was ordinary.
It shifted to the weather, then to a few upcoming social events.
It was simple. Natural.
Almost illogical—set against the strained silence surrounding them.
They did not speak of the past.
Nor of power.
Nor of anything heavy.
After a short pause, Neris asked hesitantly,
"Did you have an appointment?"
He crossed one leg over the other beneath the table and replied evenly,
"Yes. But it was canceled."
He remained seated at her table.
Outside, Edwin stood waiting after apologizing to the Imperial envoy and arranging another meeting.
During the entire time, no one looked at them.
Not a single whisper was heard.
Adrian did not explain anything.
He did not tell Neris why he was there.
But he did something more dangerous.
He made everyone understand that the blonde woman with golden eyes belonged to Duke Dysshard.
And he did it… without a word.
Adrian continued to sit comfortably, sipping his coffee slowly.
He did not hurry to leave.
He waited for her—to decide when they would go.
When they exited the café, Adrian walked directly toward his carriage and stopped there, while Neris followed behind him. She assumed they would leave separately.
She nearly headed toward the carriage she had arrived in.
But Edwin gently corrected her path and gestured toward Adrian's carriage.
Adrian stood there, watching her obvious embarrassment—an expression of faint amusement crossing his features.
Edwin opened the carriage door beside Adrian, stepped aside politely, and offered his hand to help her inside.
After Edwin closed the door, Adrian moved to the other side, Edwin following behind.
When she returned to the manor that evening, she did not feel suffocated.
Nor did she feel at ease.
She felt something else.
She felt… seen.
And the space she moved within no longer felt like a mere test.
It felt like a space built around her—
as if it were meant specifically for her to move freely within, untouched by outside interference.
And somehow…
That was the beginning of attachment.
Not because she was weak.
But because she was beginning to understand:
Adrian did not approach to take.
He approached to surround.
And the danger was not in his grasp—
but in the fact that she did not step away when she had the chance.
That realization unsettled her even more.
Because she still did not understand why she remained.
He had refused her involvement in everything—
his work, even her attempt to investigate the truth behind his brother's death.
He had taken all the information she possessed and decided to continue the search alone from there.
In her room, Neris tugged at her hair in frustration, pacing in circles, whispering sharply:
"My God, this man is impossibly difficult.
If he doesn't want my involvement, doesn't need my help—
then what does he want from me?"