Chapter 23
That morning, when the family council was unexpectedly postponed, Kiern found himself with an unusual stretch of free time.
At some point, he had begun to feel empty whenever he wasn’t doing something, throwing himself obsessively into work to avoid it. So this sudden idleness only made him uncomfortable.
Outside, the sky was vividly blue, clouds drifting lazily across it—an almost excessive kind of peace.
Just as that calm began to feel tedious against the noise inside his mind, his secretary, Eddie Patridge, spoke.
“Lady Anna sent word that you haven’t visited at all lately.”
“Ah.”
Kiern let out a faint exclamation at the name he had long forgotten. Lady Anna was an elderly woman who had been very close to his mother.
She was the matriarch of a self-made family and, after retiring, had founded a convent, devoting herself to her faith.
As a child, he had often followed his mother to visit her convent. But it had been a long time since he last set foot there.
“They say she’s not in good health.”
“So she wants me to show my face.”
With a small smirk, Kiern ordered a carriage to be prepared. He went to see Lady Anna on a whim.
As expected, he wasn’t surprised to find her walking around perfectly fine. He had come prepared to play along.
But he never imagined Elizabeth would be there.
He had been reading a book to a child, yet he forgot all about it as he stared at her.
Elizabeth stood at a distance, cautiously watching him. Her expression seemed to say, Why is he here of all people?—which made it oddly amusing.
Lacking the courage to simply leave, she awkwardly approached. Beside her stood Lady Anna—also known here as Sister Beatrix.
“Isaac, you should take after Yulia,” Beatrix said.
Starting with a scolding right away, Kiern shrugged.
Being called Isaac made him feel like a student of the convent again—as if the young master of a powerful ducal family, who might soon become a duke, didn’t exist here at all.
The familiarity of this place, as though it held only heaven and no hell, loosened his guard without him realizing it.
“In what way?” Kiern asked, tilting his head.
“Yulia regularly visits and devotes herself to God,” Beatrix replied.
“But Beatrix, I’ve shown my faith through ample donations.”
“God looks at one’s heart, not wealth. In that sense, Yulia is an exemplary servant of God.”
As Beatrix praised her, Elizabeth—called Yulia—lowered her gaze, flustered.
“I’m sure Isaac has wanted to come here too, in his heart.”
“No, I haven’t.”
Kiern’s blunt reply was so cold that even the child beside him, who had been playing around, stared at him in surprise.
Startled, Elizabeth finally turned her wide eyes toward him. At her questioning expression, Kiern gave a faint smirk.
“You shouldn’t lie to God. This place makes me uncomfortable, Beatrix.”
“Kiern!” Elizabeth murmured.
But he continued.
“This isn’t a comfortable place for me. I trust you know why.”
“Isaac…”
“So if you wish to see me, invite me to dinner. I’ll gladly visit you anywhere else.”
With that, Kiern stood up. Leaving the book half-read, he headed out, Elizabeth following behind him.
He was just about to get into the carriage.
“Wait, Kiern!”
At her call, he paused before closing the door. When he simply looked at her in silence, she climbed into the carriage.
Once the door shut, they were alone.
“I didn’t expect you to come here,” Elizabeth said, hands neatly folded in her lap. “You haven’t come even once since that day.”
“That day” meant the day the duchess died.
Elizabeth knew how rude it was for him to leave like this, especially to Beatrix, and wanted to stop him—but it only seemed to provoke him.
“I didn’t expect you to still come here either,” Kiern replied coldly.
“If I suddenly stopped, the children here would be upset.”
“Is that a criticism of me for not coming?”
“No, it’s not.”
Elizabeth felt frustrated that he twisted everything she said.
There was no trace of the usual scent of cigars on him. He had even applied perfume to mask it.
She knew it was his way of being considerate toward the children and the elderly.
Kiern loved this place—just as much as the duchess had. But sometimes, loving something too much made it painful to return.
Elizabeth didn’t want Beatrix and Kiern to misunderstand each other like this.
“Let’s go back. Since we’re already here, leaving like this will make Beatrix sad. You won’t feel good about it either.”
“What do you know about how I feel?”
Kiern glared at her sharply. Then, out of habit, he pulled out a cigar and put it between his lips—but didn’t light it.
“What, are you trying to play the saint? Kind Elizabeth?”
“I just want the two of you to resolve things.”
“I’ll handle that myself. Don’t meddle.”
“…Alright. I’m sorry.”
Thinking it was hopeless, Elizabeth stood up.
At that moment, Kiern, irritated, stretched out his leg to block her path.
“Stop hovering around me,” he said. “There’s nothing more annoying than someone who says they’re leaving but keeps lingering.”
“This time, you’re the one who showed up in front of me. I was already planning to come here.”
“Then why follow me?”
“Because you looked like you were in pain. But I shouldn’t have interfered. I should’ve comforted Beatrix instead.”
With that, Elizabeth tried to step over his long legs to leave.
But Kiern grabbed her wrist and pulled.
In the narrow carriage, she lost her balance and fell into his arms.
She was about to demand what he was doing—but stopped when she saw his expression.
He looked angry.
“Who says I’m in pain? You’re the one who kept avoiding me with that miserable face.”
“I was trying to make things less uncomfortable for both of us.”
“And you didn’t think that made it worse?”
“Then what do you want me to do?”
Elizabeth glared at him, her emotions surging like waves about to collapse a sandcastle.
“You might be fine seeing my face, but I’m not.”
“……”
“You say you hate me—but I keep liking you more and more. That’s why I avoid you. If you won’t even let me do that, what am I supposed to do?”
At her honest confession, Kiern simply stared.
Her clear eyes had grown clouded, tears trembling as if they would fall at the slightest touch.
The sight stirred something within him.
She smelled like fresh roses—so vivid it felt like a strong perfume filling his senses. It made him frown.
Mixed with his deep woody scent, it only heightened the tension between them.
Elizabeth pushed him away.
“So even if it’s uncomfortable, please bear with it a little. I won’t be coming here anymore anyway.”
That meant she truly intended to leave.
Watching her move away, Kiern clenched his fist.
The emptiness returned, rushing in all at once. The loneliness he had momentarily forgotten while arguing with her—and even while holding her—now threatened to swallow him whole.
Finding it absurd, he let out a self-deprecating laugh.
“…Idiot.”
Elizabeth returned to Beatrix and comforted her. Kiern, who had always been polite, had left in anger, and it clearly weighed on her.
“I think I made a mistake. I only thought he would miss this place—I didn’t realize it would hurt him.”
“The greater the love, the greater the pain. Don’t worry too much, Beatrix.”
“By the way, you’re emigrating? Won’t you tell me where?”
“I’ll send a letter once I’ve settled.”
“Living in a foreign land won’t be easy. Being a stranger is harder than it seems. You’ll surely miss this place.”
“…Do you think so?”
Elizabeth could only smile faintly, unable to explain that she was leaving to run away.
She loved this land too—the Kingdom of Yerhen, especially its capital, Rapton, which felt like her hometown.
But as long as she stayed here, she would continue to hear news of Kiern.
And every time, she would miss him.
He was right.
Maybe she was running away.
Under the pretense of removing a flaw that could surface at any moment, she was fleeing—from her own heart, and from Kiern.
If distance and silence grew, perhaps her feelings would fade too.
Elizabeth resolved not to hesitate any longer.
It was time to leave.
