ANCPE 05

Chapter 5

Ian lit the lamp inside the carriage.

Rachel glanced once at Ian, who wasn’t looking at her, then lowered her head again.

Seeing him again after so long, he was still incredibly beautiful.

His small face was prettier than most women’s, yet he didn’t give off a feminine impression because of his tall stature and broad shoulders. Ian stood a head taller than most men, and his wide shoulders and muscles made him look powerfully built.

From the slightly upturned corners of his eyes, to the smooth curve of his nose, down to the clean line of his philtrum—there wasn’t a single feature that wasn’t striking. Even his full red lips and violet eyes, more beautiful than the night sky.

Having lost the baby fat from his childhood, he had grown even more handsome—so much so that it was hard to look away.

But even so, his face was not a welcome sight.

It was just that the situation now—and meeting him again—was difficult.

Rachel swallowed a sigh and lowered her head even further.

After several days of steady travel, the carriage finally reached the destination Ian had mentioned.

In other words, they arrived at the capital.

—

“…What is this?”

Rachel sat on a white bed in a luxurious room.

“What is this?”

She was now inside a mansion in the capital.

The mansion was so large it even had its own courtyard.

A mansion with a yard in Parma Burg, the capital of the Refskaya Empire.

Rachel couldn’t even begin to imagine how much wealth one would need to own such a place.

The room itself was just as extravagant as the exterior.

The bed and table she sat at, the soft lace-trimmed slippers she wore, the plush carpet beneath her feet, the gold-crafted vanity, and the expensive jewelry laid across it.

It was as lavish as it could possibly be—utterly and excessively luxurious.

“What on earth is going on?”

If there was one thing that didn’t fit in this perfect room, it was her—sitting stiffly, trembling, looking like she was about to die.

*What is he thinking?*

Rachel couldn’t understand her situation at all.

About six years ago, she had run away from Ian Dakendorf.

She didn’t want to be hurt anymore, didn’t want to hope anymore, so she left him—still young—in a small cabin in the Avery territory and fled.

So the only emotions the Emperor would feel toward her would be anger and betrayal.

If Ian had come looking for her, then it must be for revenge. It was only right that she be punished for daring to abandon a prince and run away.

“But then… why am I here?”

If anything, she felt it would be easier if she were sitting in a dark, damp underground prison instead of here.

The moment she saw Ian’s face again, she had already given up any attachment to her life.

“Miss, did you call for me?”

At that moment, a maid—having heard the noise—knocked and entered the room, asking politely.

“Huh? Oh, no! No, I didn’t!”

“Apologies. I’ll take my leave.”

Startled at being called “miss,” Rachel hurriedly stood and waved her hands.

The maid apologized and left.

“Ugh… what is this?”

Rachel collapsed onto the carpet like someone drained of energy, lamenting her situation.

But not wanting another awkward encounter with the maid, she muttered very quietly this time.

“I have something to take care of. I’ll come back in the evening.”

After dropping Rachel off at the mansion, Ian had left with those words.

“What should I do…”

She now had only two choices left.

The first was to confess her wrongdoing before he accused her and beg for forgiveness.

The second was to quietly obey him until he chose to confront her.

There was actually a third option—running away.

But Rachel instinctively knew that would lead to the worst possible outcome.

Not that she expected the other two options to end well either.

“…At least he doesn’t seem that angry.”

During the journey to the capital, Ian hadn’t shown any anger.

But remembering the expression he wore in Ravenna village made it impossible to feel reassured.

She had stayed by his side for over ten years, yet she had never seen him look that displeased.

No matter how angry he was, even when other princes tormented him, he always wore that indifferent, expressionless face.

As if nothing in the world mattered.

Even when things happened to him personally, Ian remained detached.

Yet now, he had shown emotion—meaning he must have been truly furious.

“Damn it.”

Finally, unable to bear the frustration of not understanding anything, a curse slipped from Rachel’s lips.

—

Just as he had said, Ian returned to the mansion in the evening.

In a dining room as luxurious as Rachel’s bedroom, the two sat across from each other for dinner.

Or rather, Ian had seated Rachel and told her to eat—but she only sat there.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“Yes… I will.”

Only when Ian stopped eating and looked at her did Rachel hurriedly pick up her silver utensils.

She stared at the food in front of her, gripping her fork tightly.

She briefly wondered if it might be poisoned—but even if it were, she would have to eat it anyway.

Forcing herself, she shoved mashed potatoes and meat into her mouth.

Fortunately, it didn’t seem to be poisoned.

And as beautiful as it looked, it must taste just as good.

“Is it alright?”

“Ah, yes.”

Though her pounding heart made it impossible to savor, it surely tasted excellent.

Servants attended them, silverware gleamed, and perfectly seasoned meat filled the table. Beneath a dazzling chandelier, they dined—but Rachel felt no happiness at all.

She would have preferred the peaceful days of eating eggs and rye bread.

She stuffed more food into her mouth and chewed quickly.

If she didn’t keep her mouth full, the question rising to her throat might slip out.

*Why are you eating with me?*

Even knowing she shouldn’t ask, she wanted to.

But with her mouth full, she managed to suppress it.

Thus ended the dreadful, uncomfortable meal that only Rachel suffered through.

Ian left the mansion again afterward.

Left alone, Rachel was certain she wouldn’t sleep that night—but her body, exhausted from two sleepless days and constant tension, fell into a deep sleep despite her anxiety.

—

A hill blanketed in pure white snow, beneath a gray winter sky.

In the middle of a dense forest stood a small, old cabin. Rachel trudged through snow up to her ankles toward it.

Her dark brown hair whipped in the harsh wind, lashing against her face.

She wanted to tie it back or hold it, but her hands were full with a basket of potatoes.

“Hey, I’m freezing to death! Walk faster!”

A blonde girl following behind her shouted, her cheeks red from the cold.

Her voice was sharp like the winter wind, but her face was lovely.

Unlike Rachel, she was fully bundled in a fur hat, scarf, and gloves—yet still complained of the cold like a true noble lady.

Urged on, Rachel quickened her pace and opened the cabin door.

The girl immediately shoved past her and entered first.

Though old and worn, the cabin was warm inside thanks to the lit stove.