Episode 70

I was delivering a book on behalf of the librarian to another department.

The spring breeze, filled with the scent of fresh grass from the garden, tousled my neatly tied hair. A few strands fell across my eyes.

As I was tucking them back in place, I noticed a group of people walking from the far end of the long corridor connected to the garden.

Before I could even make out who they were, my heart plummeted.

My breathing became uneven.

Instinctively, I took a few steps back, as if my body wanted to flee.

But rationality kept my feet from moving further. As a regular maid in the palace, it would be improper to run away from him. I should simply bow and greet him like any other servant would.

Amid the men surrounding him, Igon stood out, even from afar.

Despite not having the best eyesight, I recognized his face immediately, as if it had been etched into my memory.

His features were bold, like a charcoal sketch drawn with firm lines, yet there was a delicate aura, as if each detail had been painted with soft watercolors.

His face showed no signs of hardship.

Under the midday sun, his platinum hair shimmered, flowing like rippling water with every step he took.

As he came closer, I quickly lowered my head.

As he passed by, his familiar scent brushed past my nose.

My chest tightened, overwhelmed with longing and excitement.

I kept my head bowed, not daring to look up until he was completely out of sight.

Igon walked briskly, his retinue following closely behind.

When I finally risked a glance, I saw him again.

He was no longer the Igon I remembered. Now, as a figure of immense power, he carried an even more imposing and suffocating presence.

His appearance had sharpened, his face more hardened, and the soft jawline that once hinted at boyishness had given way to the strong, defined features of a man.

It was as if the person I knew had disappeared, replaced by this stranger who radiated authority.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away, like someone sneaking a glance at a hidden treasure.

And that’s when it happened.

Igon turned his head.

Our eyes met.

The once warm gaze that had reminded me of a dawn sky was now as cold as a river frozen solid in winter.

Even just the change in his eyes made him feel like a completely different person.

I swallowed dryly and quickly lowered my head again.

The brief moment our gazes had met passed, and the sound of footsteps continued forward without pause.

I waited until they were gone, then slowly lifted my head.

At the edge of my vision, I spotted a handkerchief lying on the ground.

The golden embroidery caught my eye—it was Igon’s initials.

I hesitated.

Should I return it?

Would that be wise?

After a brief internal struggle, I made my decision.

No.

A voice seemed to caution me from within, but I ignored it and walked toward him.

Before I knew it, I had reached his group.

As I approached, Igon, ever perceptive, turned to look at me again.

Our eyes met once more.

His gaze was intensely indifferent, his eyes scanning me slowly from head to toe.

My pale skin, my small and frail form, the faded silver of my hair—all felt exposed under his cold scrutiny.

It was as if I had become something insignificant in his eyes, a pitiful servant of the palace.

I felt as though I had plunged my hands into freezing water, the coldness seeping into my very core.

Clutching the handkerchief tightly, I lowered my gaze and extended both hands, offering it to him.

“What is this?”

A nobleman beside Igon asked sharply, his irritation barely concealed.

“Who are you, and where are you from?”

Another voice joined in.

I couldn’t answer, not being able to speak. Instead, I bowed my head even lower.

I felt the handkerchief lifted from my hands.

Igon’s fingers moved slowly, deliberately, as he took the handkerchief from me.

The slight brush of his fingers against mine sent an unfamiliar shiver through me.

I looked up.

Igon was standing before me, holding the handkerchief, looking down at it with a thoughtful expression.

“Did I drop this?”

He mused, his voice calm as he examined the fabric.

He carefully folded the handkerchief and tucked it back into his chest pocket before turning his gaze toward me again.

I hurriedly lowered my head again.

Standing so close to him, it felt as if Igon could see right through me.

“Can’t speak, can you?” His voice wasn’t mocking; it was simply a question.

Calm and composed, his tone was refined.

I nodded, keeping my gaze fixed on the ground.

“I see.”

His response was just as detached, devoid of any emotion. With that, he took the handkerchief and walked past me.

I stood there, rooted to the spot, listening to his footsteps fade away and catching faint traces of his scent as he departed.

Even after Igon had disappeared, I remained standing there, as if frozen in place.

* * *

A week after that brief encounter with Igon, Kenneth summoned me.

When I tilted my head in confusion, the attendant who brought the message simply said, “It’s His Highness’s command.”

That was all.

Why could he be summoning me now, after all this time?

While I pondered the reason, Mary, always full of imagination, suggested with a grin.

“He must be thinking about you!”

He hadn’t thought about me in three years, and now he suddenly was? It seemed unlikely.

Though Kenneth had recommended me for the palace job, he had avoided me since then. Apart from our initial meeting, we had never spoken again.

Of course, it was rare for an ordinary palace maid to have the chance to speak with the Crown Prince.

In a way, this was special treatment.

I stopped what I was doing and followed the attendant to Kenneth’s office.

When we arrived, there was someone already inside, so I waited in front of the door.

Voices filtered through the wooden door, the conversation rising in volume until a woman’s sharp voice cut through the air.

It wasn’t Kenneth—it was a woman.

Everyone around, including myself, flinched at the sound.

The attendant by the door looked grim, staring at the closed door.

Moments later, the door swung open, and before I could see who was coming out, I heard heavy breathing and frustrated muttering.

“Really… what is he thinking…”

The person emerging was none other than Princess Ulysses.

I bowed quickly.

Though my gesture meant little to the princess, she brushed past me, heading straight toward the group waiting for her.

She had always been unapologetically expressive with her emotions.

I watched her leave briefly before turning back and knocking on the door.

“Come in.” came Kenneth’s voice.

The attendants opened the door for me, and I stepped inside.

Kenneth was seated at his desk, and he looked utterly exhausted, as if drained from the earlier conversation.

He ran a hand through his hair and gestured for me to sit across from him.

I took a seat, watching as he lit a cigar and gazed out the window.

The vibrant greenery of the garden outside contrasted sharply with the tension inside the room.

Leaning against the window, Kenneth exhaled a puff of smoke and turned his eyes toward me.

“Do you know Duke Rodore?”

His gaze was steady as he asked the question.

The suddenness of it caught me off guard, and I shook my head after a brief hesitation.

In this body, it was better to claim ignorance.

“Really?”

Kenneth raised an eyebrow, taking another drag from his cigar before exhaling slowly. He shook his head, chuckling softly as if he found the situation amusing.

“The Duke asked for you.”

I froze, my spine stiffening like stone.

I couldn’t move, couldn’t even blink, as I sat there, motionless.

“He said he saw you in the palace.”

There had been nothing special about that brief encounter.

It wasn’t just Kenneth who was puzzled—I was as well.

“He claims he needs someone quiet to work for him, says he’s become overly sensitive.”

Kenneth paused, flicking ash from his cigar as he continued.

“And he thinks you’re perfect for the job.”

A quiet person? Sensitive?

I had no idea what had happened over the past three years. Igon had never been fond of overly talkative people, but this… “sensitive” condition seemed strange.

The pressure in my throat grew tighter, the collar of my uniform suddenly feeling constricting.

“It’s just an excuse,” Kenneth concluded with certainty.

I agreed silently, my mind racing.

“There’s a reason, even if we don’t know what it is. The Duke has an uncanny sense for these things—he must’ve realized you’re connected to her.”

The “her” Kenneth referred to was none other than me—Evelyn.

The name rolled silently in my mouth, but no sound came out.

“There’s no trace of you anywhere. I had the best information brokers investigate you, but they found nothing.”

Kenneth had investigated me.

I glanced up at him, surprised by this revelation.

He chuckled at my expression.

“Did you really think the palace would let someone work here without a background check?”

He had a point.

Regardless of the circumstances, this was the palace—the home of the Emperor, the Crown Prince, and the Princess.

“It’s as if you fell from the sky, with no records to be found. Only I know the truth about your connection to her.”

Kenneth let out a deep sigh, the sound heavy above me.

“I turned down the Duke’s request, but what matters is your own decision.”

His words made it clear he was leaving the choice up to me.

After extinguishing his cigar, Kenneth sat down across from me, his gaze direct.

I lowered my head, my eyes tracing the patterns on the floor tiles.

My mind, which had been focused on simple tasks, suddenly felt tangled, as if a mess of threads had knotted together.

I shook my head, a clear refusal.