The transparent winter mist painted the lakeside crimson in the early dawn. The bitter air stung her cheeks red, and each breath emerged as a white puff in the frigid morning. Every sense of her sharpened, focusing on one man. Those gently curved eyes and soft lips, a smile as radiant as a flower blooming in the depths of winter.
“It was you, after all”, Shailoh whispered, her hand flying to cover her mouth. She had never truly forgotten. Though their encounter had lasted only four days, it burned bright enough to sear itself into her memory.
“My name is Caleb.”
When they’d met again through Claire’s introduction, he’d worn a completely different face.
“So you weren’t Kal…”
“I still need a pseudonym.” Caleb shrugged, his gaze dropping to the blanket pooled around her knees.
Heat flooded Shailoh’s cheeks as she realized how the thin slip clung to her curves. She yanked the blanket up to her shoulders like armor, and something dark flickered in his turquoise eyes. Oblivious to the shift, she spoke in a careful tone.
“Who exactly are you?”
Baroness Kildare had warned her never to seek the guest’s name or identity, much less approach him. Then there was that pseudonym—Kal. Everything is wrapped in mystery and shadows.
The name Caleb tugged at her memory, familiar in a way that made her stomach clench. As recognition dawned, her face went white. “Surely… back then, someone called you ‘Your Highness.'”
“You remember.”
Despite her shock, he nodded with perfect calm.
“My name is Caleb Alexander Lancaster. The second prince, and currently first in line to the throne.”
Caleb Alexander Lancaster. The second prince, who was said to be living abroad for health reasons.
Even Shailoh, who had spent two years isolated in the countryside and knew little of the world, recognized that name. To be precise, it was a name she had occasionally heard from the baroness, who used to be a lady-in-waiting to the former queen.
“The first prince’s death, who excelled in every way, was a great shock to his younger brother, the second prince, who resembled him so much. The sight of him falling into deep despair at such a young age still remains vividly in my mind…”
“What kind of person was the second prince?”
“He was lovely and kind. His expression might have seemed cold, but he was actually gentle, pouring affection even on the smallest plans and animals.”
She had guessed he must be of high status, but the reality surpassed her expectations and made her blood run.
Shailoh, frozen for a moment, quickly gathered herself and knelt on the bed, drawing back the blanket. “Fo-Forgive me, Your Highness. Please forgive my rudeness until now.” She bowed low, hands clasped properly.
“Rudeness…”
Soft laughter reached her ears. As she lifted her head cautiously, Caleb’s hands guided her back down. That familiar scent—bergamot and wood—wrapped around her like a memory.
“Just like before.”
She wasn’t the only one affected by the scent. His breath warmed her neck, and Shailoh lay rigid, eyes wide as a trapped doe. Though their position suggested intimacy, his touch felt more like examination than seduction. Instinctive and predatory, just like a wild beast identifying its mate by scent.
“Um…”
Her heart hammered against her ribs. Every nerve sparked to life, even the finest hairs standing on end.
“I have something to return.”
Remembering the rosary, Shailoh fumbled to remove it from her neck. She held it out, but Caleb studied her silently before shaking his head.
“You’ll still need that.”
Before she could ask what he meant, a knock echoed from the door. Shailoh quickly pulled the blanket up as someone entered after receiving permission.
“You’re awake.”
A middle-aged woman in a crisp uniform stood in the doorway, keys jingling at her waist.
“My name is Abigail, Prince Caleb’s head maid. A pleasure to meet you, Milady.”
“Ah… yes, likewise.” Caught off guard, Shailoh returned the greeting and glanced at Caleb as he rose.
“Shailoh.” With his business apparently concluded, Caleb stood without hesitation and tucked a strand of disheveled hair behind her ear. “You’ve slept the whole day, so you must be hungry. I’ve called for a doctor, so have a quick check-up and then eat.”
With a gentle smile, Caleb nodded toward the door. The moment he stepped out and closed it behind him, that perfect smile vanished without a trace. His expression went blank as he walked down the hallway and descended the stairs to his office.
“You’re here, Your Highness. How was the young lady?”
His aide, Count Liam, had been waiting and rose respectfully from the couch. Caleb passed him with a dry look and settled into the leather chair by the window.
“Fortunately, she’s unharmed. But her voice is hoarse, which is bothersome.”
Shailoh was exactly as he remembered. Her skin was fair, like a fairy by the lakeside. Her cheeks flushed shyly like a peach in early summer, and her blonde hair caught hints of pink in the light.
“She’s just a fake. Poor thing. Mother brought her in to fill my absence, but she behaves above her station and is jealous of me. I just feel sorry for her.”
He’d nearly laughed at Claire de Ponze’s words. A fake? What did it matter if it was a convincing imitation? The moment he’d faced the girl from his memories, he’d secretly clenched his fist in triumph. The girl he’d found shone even brighter than the real thing.
“Her voice… It’s unfortunate. But if it’s just her throat being constricted, it should return soon.” Liam clicked his tongue and approached the mahogany desk.
Caleb nodded, taking a cigar from the drawer and cutting the end with a knife. Liam was quick to pull out a match and light it for him.
“As I’ve mentioned before, isn’t this a dangerous plan? Even now, wouldn’t it be better to switch to a woman more accustomed to the environment?”
Caleb exhaled white smoke through his nose and stubbed out the cigar in the ashtray. “If it’s not Shailoh, it means nothing. She must be alluring but not vulgar, possess grace and manners, and above all, have a voice that captivates.”
He recalled burying his nose in her neck, inhaling her scent as if he were testing her. The innocent blink of her bright blue eyes flashed before him, stirring something in his chest. Perfection must be shattered. The more lovable something was, the more beautiful it became when it broke.
“Her innocence is perfect too. She might need some guidance, though.”
“Still… no respectable young lady would accept such a thing willingly. Even if you saved her life.” Liam felt a chill at the way Caleb’s eyes narrowed, making one last attempt to dissuade his master.
“That’s why we must ensure she has no choice but to accept.” Caleb rose and threw open the window. Cold, transparent wind flowed into the room. He gazed out at the wide expanse of hills and spoke calmly. “If it can be used, use everything at your disposal. Whatever it may be.”
Silently, Liam bowed his head.
The young man was barely twenty-three, yet he’d survived tumultuous waves and hardships that would have broken most men. Many things had changed him, and it was thanks to those changes that he was still alive today. The weight on his broad shoulders was immeasurable. All Liam could offer was unwavering trust and absolute obedience.
* * *
At Shailoh’s request—she claimed she wasn’t very hungry—a light meal was prepared. Custard cream, strawberry jam, scones, fragrant chamomile tea, and poached eggs served on a special plate. Each bite melted in her mouth. After hesitating through just a few bites, Shailoh quickly finished the simple meal laid out before her.
“I’m glad it suits your taste.”
“Yes… Thank you. Aren’t you eating, Your Highness?”
“I usually skip breakfast.” Caleb had watched her eat with satisfaction and signaled Abigail to clear the table. “Fortunately, they say your throat will heal with frequent warm compresses and a few days of medication.”
“You heard correctly. Yes, thank you for your concern.”
“No need to thank me. It’s only natural.”
At his gentle voice, Shailoh shyly lowered her eyes.
“I’m sorry about before with Claire. I didn’t recognize you for a moment.”
“It’s alright. It can happen. Don’t worry about it.” Shailoh waved her hand dismissively, shaking her head in relief. A gentle silence stretched between them before Caleb moved on to the main topic.
“The Diponz ducal family is asking around about you. They’ve already sent people to the baroness’s house.”
The peaceful atmosphere shattered instantly. Memories of the previous night—the ones she’d been desperately trying to forget—came flooding back. Shailoh’s chest constricted, each breath a struggle. Those hands around her throat, those eyes filled with nothing but pity and contempt—they all crashed over her at once.
