Episode 4
*Cough, cough.*
When Eva came to her senses again, she had her head turned to the side, coughing and spitting out water. It felt as though all her strength had been washed away; she could barely move a finger.
*I’m alive.*
The first emotions that flooded her were relief that she could return to Cecil, anger at Pamela’s shamelessness, and self-loathing over her own miserable state. Along with them came despair at having to live this kind of life again.
In Eva’s weakened gaze, the beautiful Veil Castle shimmered in the distance. At the sight of the castle where she had been born and raised, a surge of emotion welled up, and tears filled her eyes. The view felt like a gentle comfort, as if it were soothing her.
“Are you conscious?”
A low, polite male voice came from nearby. Only then did Eva realize a shadow had fallen over her face.
Turning her head, she saw a brown-haired man, drenched, looking down at her. He was breathing heavily, as if proving how hard he had worked to save her.
*He’s beautiful…*
Even in her dazed state, Eva found herself thinking that.
His dark brown eyes, deep like a swamp pulling her in, his elegantly shaped nose, and his softly flushed lips—he had looked impressive from afar, but up close he was the kind of person who left one speechless.
“Are you alright?”
“Ah…”
Only then did Eva’s eyes widen in shock. In her confusion, she had forgotten her manners and stared at him openly. Flushed with embarrassment, she turned her head to the side—and noticed his strong arms braced between her shoulders. As she lowered her gaze in a hurry, she saw his bare chest, dotted with water droplets.
“I-I’m fine…”
Dizzy, Eva suddenly jolted—and froze. In her haste and because he hadn’t moved away, their noses had brushed. If the wind pushed either of them forward, their lips would meet. Their eyes locked, frozen in that moment.
“That’s a relief. It could have been serious.”
The brown-haired man was the first to regain his composure and step back. After looking at her strangely for a moment, he picked up his coat from nearby and draped it over Eva’s shoulders. Startled, she tried to take it off, but then realized her soaked clothes clung to her body, revealing parts of her figure.
Blushing intensely, she clutched the coat closed in front of her.
“Thank you—”
“Eva!”
Just as she was about to thank him, Pamela rushed over and threw herself at her. With a pale face and trembling brows, she hugged Eva tightly, not caring that her clothes were getting wet.
“Are you okay? I was so worried—I thought something terrible had happened to you. Sob.”
“I’m fine, so stop crying, Pamela.”
Suppressing her inner fury, Eva pushed Pamela away. She disliked everything—the contact, the strong perfume, even the fake tears. She hesitated between continuing to endure it or exposing the truth when a faint pain suddenly struck her foot. The cramp that had seized her leg in the water was returning. She tried to maintain a calm expression, hiding it.
“It’s my fault. I was joking around, and you…”
After barely pushing Pamela away, she was pulled into another hug. Pamela’s sobbing looked so natural that, had Eva been an observer, she might have been deceived.
Thinking she had comforted her enough, Pamela wiped her tears and turned toward the men.
“Thank you so much. We were picking wild raspberries and joking around, and Eva slipped…”
“Eva?”
At the mention of her name, the brown-haired man’s eyes lit up.
“Oh, my friend’s name is Eva. And I’m Pamela Beaty. My father is Baron Beaty.”
Since the man had only repeated Eva’s name, Pamela added her introduction. For her, this was probably the most nerve-wracking moment—the first step toward becoming a count’s wife.
“Nice to meet you. I am—”
“Ahem. Hey, Ruth.”
Just as the brown-haired man was about to introduce himself, a blond man who had been watching the whole time interrupted with a cough.
*Ruth. So the one who saved me is named Ruth.*
Eva repeated the name silently.
The blond man looked over the three of them with open suspicion. He seemed displeased with everything—the situation, the two women, and the developing interaction. His gaze urged Ruth to leave quickly. Ruth, however, merely tilted his chin and gave a meaningful smile.
After a brief, subtle standoff, the blond man gave in first, sighing slightly as he looked at Eva.
“My apologies. Are you alright, miss?”
“Yes, I’m… fine.”
She wasn’t. The pain from her toes was spreading up her leg. Though she secretly massaged it when no one was looking, it only worsened.
“That’s good to hear. Let me introduce myself. I am Count Benjamin Holland. And this man is… Sir Ruth.”
Count Holland hesitated briefly while introducing his companion. Though he had called him Ruth, adding a title suggested it might be his surname. But neither Eva nor Pamela had the presence of mind to dwell on it.
“Nice to meet you.”
As soon as Ruth finished speaking, an awkward silence followed. The brown-haired man Pamela had been interested in—Ruth—was not the count. Though being a knight was a high rank, to Pamela he was insignificant. The real prize was the blond count.
‘Oh no.’
Eva looked at Pamela.
As expected, Pamela’s face had turned pale. Having only heard of the count, she had assumed the most striking man must be him.
Eva had thought the same. At first, she had only suspected Ruth, but after he saved her, she had nearly been certain. Not just his appearance, but his poise, restrained voice, and natural presence all set him apart.
Now, what would Pamela choose? Ruth, whom she had first liked, or Count Holland?
“I thought you were no ordinary man from your impression—so you’re the count. It’s an honor to meet you.”
Pamela didn’t take long to decide. She relaxed her expression and turned toward Count Holland.
Her smooth change of direction was almost admirable. She chose practicality over preference.
Now only Eva’s introduction remained. Though Pamela had mentioned her name, it wasn’t formal. But in her soaked, miserable state, enduring the pain in her leg, maintaining composure was difficult.
“I am… Eva Bell, Turner Macy—ugh.”
She clenched her teeth, trying not to show the pain. At least the water hid her cold sweat.
*I can endure it. Just a little longer.*
“Are you alright?”
Ruth, noticing her condition, quickly approached. Seeing that her suffering was physical, not emotional, his gaze dropped to the foot she was clutching.
“Does your foot hurt? Did you twist it?”
“No, it’s… fine… ah…”
Unable to bear it any longer, Eva bent over and grabbed her foot. She couldn’t massage it openly in front of others, but enduring it felt unbearable.
“Stretch your leg this way.”
Ruth gently pulled her leg. Though she tried to push him away out of embarrassment, she had no strength to resist.
“No, please just leave it…”
“If it’s because you don’t like me touching you, I’ll stop. But if it’s embarrassment, then stay still. It could get worse otherwise.”
“…”
His gentle voice eased her tension. With no strength left to refuse, Eva let him guide her.
He carefully removed her shoe and soaked sock, revealing several holes patched by Cecil. Seeing it, Eva flushed deeply again.
“It’s stiff here.”
“Ah—”
As he pressed, sharp pain shot through her. Holding her ankle with one hand, he used the other to massage her swollen foot, loosening the tense muscles.
It hurt—yet also relieved her. And at the same time, it felt futile. Cecil had always warned her never to let another man touch her before marriage, yet here that boundary was breaking.
“Ah… there…”
When his hand moved up her calf under her skirt, Eva grabbed his shoulder in surprise. But sensing no ill intent—only sincere care—she quietly gave in.
Count Holland and Pamela watched in astonishment. While Eva shrank under their gaze, Ruth remained steady, focused solely on her.
As the pain eased, all strength suddenly left her body. Tears rolled down her cheeks without her understanding why.
“Why are you crying?”
Startled, Ruth looked up at her, still holding her ankle.
His concerned voice was gentle. Perhaps that’s why the words she had kept buried slipped out.
“…Because it’s embarrassing.”
“What is?”
“My foot… my foot…”
But it wasn’t just her foot—it was everything.
The situation she had been forced into, wearing a man’s coat, exposing her bare feet, her fallen state being seen—it was all humiliating.
“It’s just because it hurts. What’s there to be embarrassed about? Your feet are beautiful, too.”
“….”
He comforted her kindly, meeting her tearful gaze.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. No matter the reason, you did nothing wrong.”
Just like her father once had, like Lawrence, Matthew, and Cecil had.
“Eva.”
He softly called her name.
It felt as if the river breeze had filled her heart—cooling the heat, soothing her wounds. Though she trembled pitifully, in his eyes she seemed to shine like sunlight.
