It was because of Rossiane, who had returned after a long absence and completely bewitched everyone in the House of Kleene.
‘Always playing her annoying little tricks.’
Emil frowned as he recalled the kiss they had shared in the drawing room. Rossiane’s sultry voice echoed in his ears.
〈You thought I was Yvonne, didn’t you?〉
Even though she knew full well that Emil was expecting Yvonne, she had crept up to him pretending to be her, mimicking her tone and everything.
〈Emil, actually, I…〉
The memory made Emil furrow his brow. Rossiane. Once, they had felt perfectly in sync, like they were kindred spirits. But lately, she’d become more and more irritating. Ever since his engagement to Yvonne had been finalized, Rossiane’s behavior had turned openly spiteful.
‘Women are all the same. At first, they’re fresh and exciting. Then all they do is want more and more.’
Would Yvonne become that wa, too?
Emil tried to imagine a coquettish Yvonne—and immediately shook his head. Somehow, he didn’t want to see her like that.
‘Innocence and modesty suit Yvonne best.’
In his mind, Yvonne was always a proper, innocent girl. He used to find that annoying, but now, he found it charming. Irresistibly so.
‘What is Yvonne doing right now?’
He considered going to see her, but instead sank back into the sofa. His head throbbed like insects were crawling through his skull.
As Emil sat with his palm covering his eyes, a servant came to inform him that the bath was ready.
Emil shrugged off the clothes he had been loosely wearing. Just then.
Tap..
A small piece of cloth, just larger than his palm, fluttered to the floor.
Something about it felt off.
‘Plain?’
He frowned. Did he own any plain handkerchiefs?
‘I only carry the ones Yvonne embroidered for me…’
He tilted his head in confusion, but no clear answer came to mind. Shrugging, Emil stepped into the bath.
* * *
After washing up, he went downstairs to the first-floor dining room, where his parents and Rossiane were already seated. With his usual calm and affectionate demeanor, Emil smiled and pressed a kiss to his mother’s cheek.
“Good morning.”
“Yes, good morning.”
As he took his seat, his gaze was drawn to the same empty spot at the table as yesterday. Countess Kleene spoke up in a worried tone.
“Yvonne is late again. Could she still be unwell today?”
The Countess looked around in distress, clearly unsure of what to do. The Count, who had been sitting with quiet dignity, turned to Emil and asked,
“How is Yvonne doing?”
Emil lowered his head at the question directed at him.
“… I’m sorry. I don’t know.”
“You didn’t check on her yesterday?”
“No, I didn’t have the time.”
“She’s your fiancée. You should take better care of her. The wedding is soon, after all.”
The Count was right. Emil nodded in agreement. Just then, Rossiane cheerfully chimed in,
“I saw Yvonne wandering around early this morning. Maybe she went back to sleep and couldn’t wake up?”
‘Rossiane saw her?’
Emil’s eyes narrowed at her words.
‘But you were with me in the study…’
When he woke up, Rossiane was still in the study. So, when exactly did she run into Yvonne?
A flicker of unease sparked in the back of his mind. Emil bit his lip. The Countess, suddenly smiling as if her worries had vanished, said brightly,
“Oh, that child. Up and about at dawn? She must be excited about the engagement ceremony.”
“Well, anyone would be thrilled in her position.”
The Count nodded in agreement. Emil, now gripped by unease, could only stare silently down at the table.
At that moment, a maid burst into the dining room—Yvonne’s personal maid.
“Madam! My lord! Something terrible has happened!”
“Why such a commotion!”
The Countess snapped, clearly shaken by the sudden appearance of Yvonne’s personal maid. Maybe it was instinct—something uneasy in the maid’s expression that unsettled her.
The maid held out a small piece of paper, her hands trembling.
“M-Miss Yvonne… she left only this letter and disappeared!”
“What did you say?!”
The Count and Countess were both startled and quickly took the letter. It contained a short message from Yvonne, saying she had left after being devastated by Emil and Rossiane’s relationship.
The Countess turned toward Emil with a pale face, her voice ringing sharply.
“Emil! What is the meaning of this? You and Rossiane… in love?!”
“… What?”
Emil frowned, his brows furrowing deeply. His sharp gaze immediately shot toward Rossiane.
‘So she did meet Yvonne at dawn…?’
As their eyes met, Rossiane flinched. Then she quickly raised her voice to deny it first.
“Y-Yvonne must’ve misunderstood something!”
She clasped her hands together with a sorrowful expression. Her large, doe-like eyes brimmed with tears, ready to spill over at any moment.
“She’s said strange things to me a few times already. She asked if I was trying to seduce Emil and said she wouldn’t forgive me if I caught the young count’s eye.”
“Yvonne said that?”
Emil let out a dry, disbelieving laugh. Yvonne, threatening someone? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t picture it.
The Countess, flustered and upset, turned to Rossiane and shouted,
“Heavens! If something like that happened, you should have told us right away!”
It was an odd kind of reaction—half siding with Rossiane, half not. Perhaps Rossiane realized that her own words were neither entirely advantageous nor convincing, as she blinked rapidly in growing discomfort. Then, in a faltering voice, she tried to explain herself.
“I—I told Yvonne several times that it was all a misunderstanding. She even apologized to me afterward.”
Then, as if trying to steer the mood, she suddenly spoke of Yvonne in a sharp, scolding tone, her voice tinged with irritation.
“Isn’t this too much? She vanished without confirming anything, leaving only a single letter behind. I’m honestly disappointed. I never imagined she could be this irresponsible. She must have known she’d be ruining the engagement ceremony with a stunt like this, right?”
“That’s…”
You’re the one who pushed her to this.
Emil’s brows knitted at Rossiane’s harsh words toward Yvonne. The Countess, now nearly hysterical, rose abruptly from her seat.
“No—we must find her!”
“Madam, please!”
“Yvonne is the only one who can be Emil’s bride! Find her at once—we can’t let her run away!”
Rossiane stared in disbelief, her lips parting in stunned silence.
“What? Even after she ran off like this, you’re still saying Yvonne should be Emil’s bride…?”
But the Countess didn’t even spare Rossiane a glance. She shouted at Emil with a desperation that overrode everything else.
“Emil, I told you again and again—she’s the one you need. No one else but her!”
Emil gently took hold of his mother’s arm, trying to soothe her with a calm, reassuring voice.
“Mother, please. Yvonne… she wouldn’t have gotten far. She’s never even left this estate before. She’s never been outside the county. She wouldn’t even know how to escape properly.”
At that moment, Emil truly believed Yvonne couldn’t have left the territory.
She had been raised not to do anything on her own.
She’d never bought anything herself, never handled money, and rarely even spoke to strangers. How could such a sheltered girl possibly flee the Count’s domain? At most, she’d be wandering somewhere near the mansion.
‘We’ll bring her back.’
As for punishing Rossiane, that could come later.
Even now, Emil didn’t feel particularly alarmed.
‘In fact, taking my time might help rebuild our relationship. If I show up when she’s lost, alone, and helpless, she’ll finally understand how much she needs me.’
Whatever Rossiane might have said to provoke Yvonne, once she realized there was nowhere to turn to out there, she’d come back—and she’d listen to Emil again.
‘That would be fine too.’
Surely, right now, her head must be filled with nothing but thoughts of Emil. A smug smile played on his lips. Then, turning to his mother with a reassuring tone, he spoke firmly,
“Don’t worry, Mother.”
But the Countess couldn’t calm herself even after hearing his words.
“There must not be even the slightest chance of her escaping! Do you not understand what I’m saying?”
“I’ll send soldiers throughout the territory.”
“She must be found. Emil—must. You understand?”
Emil nodded solemnly, as if taking the matter seriously.
But ironically, despite all that supposed resolve, even after sending out troops to scour the entire estate, they couldn’t find a single trace of Yvonne.
Not even a strand of her silvery hair.
* * *
It was the first time I’d ever seen sheep or goats in real life. Pressed up against the carriage window, I let out a gasp of wonder.
Across from me, Rowan—sitting side by side with Dante—covered her mouth with a small laugh and said,
“This must be your first time leaving Count Kleene’s estate.”
I nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes! The Countess always strictly warned me never to go outside. She was very firm about it.”
