The carriage had already passed through Ellwood Village and would soon reach the Violet House.
Inside the carriage, silence lingered.
Aslan had several chances to start a conversation again.
“…So, you’re going to stay silent until the very end.”
Lyla broke the heavy silence.
Her voice was weak. Hearing her fragile tone filled Aslan with sudden fear.
An alarm rang in his mind, warning him that something was wrong.
But even then, Aslan couldn’t bring himself to act.
He pressed his parted lips firmly together, choosing not to speak again. Little did he know, it was his last chance.
With sorrowful eyes, Lyla gazed at Aslan, who was shrouded in darkness, and murmured in a resigned tone.
“Broken trust is like shattered pottery. You can try to mend it, but even if you do, the cracks remain, and it can break again at any moment.”
In Lyla’s eyes , there was no longer any pure affection. All that was left were deep scars left by broken trust.
Since the day they returned from their meeting with Viscount Ransfield, the atmosphere at Violet House felt like walking on thin ice.
Lyla and Aslan, who once seemed to share a warm connection with just a glance, now avoided even being in the same space together.
More precisely, it was Lyla who was avoiding Aslan.
“What’s going on with them?”
“I have no idea.”
Luke shrugged at Sophia’s frustrated muttering.
Irritated by his unhelpful response, Sophia shot him a glare.
“Are you really just going to stand around saying you don’t know? Shouldn’t you at least try to find out what’s going on?”
“It’s really something they should sort out themselves; we don’t need to get involved…”
“Luke!”
“…Alright, alright.”
With a sigh, Luke cleared his throat and approached Aslan, who was about to go out.
Lately, Aslan had been leaving the house early in the morning and returning only late at night, as if he was deliberately avoiding crossing paths with Lyla. His time at Violet House had become limited to the bare minimum, though he still returned every night to sleep there, which was odd in its own way…
“Will you be coming back late again today?” Luke casually asked Aslan at the front entrance.
“Yes. If my late hours are bothersome, I can start coming back earlier.”
“Oh, no, not at all. Please, come back whenever it’s convenient for you after work,” Luke waved his hand, dismissing the idea. Aslan was so quiet in his comings and goings that no one was ever disturbed by his late-night returns.
And even if his arrival did wake someone up, that was hardly a reason to restrict his movements.
“Thank you for your understanding.”
“Oh, it’s nothing, really.”
Luke chuckled lightly, then cleared his throat again as he shifted the topic. “Ahem, so… about Lyla…”
“I’m sorry.”
Aslan simply lowered his head slightly, without further explanation or excuses.
Luke felt the polite but firm refusal, making it clear Aslan didn’t want to discuss it, and he couldn’t push further.
“Alright then, you’re a busy man—I won’t hold you up any longer. Take care out there.”
“Yes, of course.”
Aslan stepped outside and climbed into the carriage that had been waiting for him.
Soft dawn light filtered through the window into the gently moving carriage, casting a faint glow over Aslan’s somber face. His gaze lingered on the purple roof of the Violet’s House, following it out the window until it was only a speck in the distance.
Aslan arrived at his hotel in Eres. Having visited daily for the past few days, he was now a familiar face; the staff greeted him with respectful nods, allowing him through without question.
He stepped into the elevator, ascending to the top floor. The door to his suite was already open.
Inside, Gus Chester, who had prepared everything early, greeted Aslan with a polite bow.
As Aslan changed clothes, Gus stood beside him, briefing him on the day’s schedule.
“This morning, you’ll need to attend the parliamentary session. The topics under discussion will include… This evening, there’s a postponed meeting at the Imperial Palace regarding the Western Railway construction project…”
The schedule was packed, leaving no time for rest.
Without a word of complaint, Aslan listened to the report, gathered his things, and left.
From the hotel, Aslan headed to the train station. Despite the early hour, the station was already bustling, with several trains lined up for departure.
He boarded the express train bound for Central.
Lately, he’d been doing something that seemed almost impossible to keep up with.
Every morning, he took the train to Central and returned to Eres late at night.
It was hours wasted on travel. His body would feel weary, and the time lost was also significant. Money was no issue—he had more than enough to spare.
But more crucial than money was his health, and even more precious was time.
No matter how he divided his day, time always seemed to fall short.
Sitting down in the train car, Aslan took out urgent documents from his briefcase and began to work.
Work, work, work.
Upon arriving in Central, Aslan went straight to his meetings, reviewed documents, and pulled out his pen to sign critical contracts.
He met with the emperor, then a competitor’s CEO, and even took a moment to speak with a distant relative who had been trying to schedule a meeting for months.
After hastily grabbing a quick meal and moving non-stop all day, Aslan noticed that the sky had turned a deep, crimson hue with the setting sun.
“If I leave for the station now, I should be able to get back to Ellwood before midnight,” he murmured, checking the time.
By now, with his daily commute between Eres and Central, he had a rough idea of the travel times.
He walked calmly toward the station, where people moved under the vast dome bathed in light.
“Wouldn’t it be best to just stay in Central?” his aides suggested, unable to hold back their concern.
Aslan knew it too. He wasn’t superhuman, and he couldn’t continue with this relentless schedule forever.
His body was already creaking under accumulated fatigue. He would have to make a decision before he completely wore himself down. Eventually, he would need to leave Ellwood behind and return to Central.
Yet, even knowing this, he delayed making that final decision until the very edge of his endurance…
‘I wonder if she’s sleeping by now.’
In just a few hours, another day would end.
Despite his exhaustion, Aslan still made his way to Violet House, each step feeling heavier than the last.
It was because of the person waiting there.
Though now, unlike before, she no longer stayed up to greet him, rubbing her eyes when he came home late. In fact, she now avoided spending time with him, finding his presence uncomfortable.
Still, Lyla was there.
Her presence alone made the strain worth enduring to get to the Violet’s House.
If he were to move back to Central completely, he wouldn’t be able to see her as often as he did now.
Even if they no longer sat and talked as they once had, at least he could still share the same space with her for brief moments—a chance that would be significantly reduced if he left.
‘…She wouldn’t come with me, would she?’
Aslan was realistic enough to know this.
If he were to tell Lyla that he needed to return to Central, she wouldn’t follow him. In fact, she’d probably be glad to see him go and would likely push him out the door herself.
He had no right to complain—he was fully aware this was all his own doing.
Still, he couldn’t help but feel disheartened. Aslan absently touched the ring on his fourth finger, letting out a sigh he hadn’t realized he was holding.
For Lyla, however, things weren’t easy either. Quite the opposite, in fact.
‘It’s exhausting.’
She was weary and troubled.
Even ignoring the earnest wishes of a distant acquaintance could wear on one’s spirit—but this was Aslan Tordell.
To Lyla, he was simply Aslan Tordell. That name alone held significant meaning in her life; no further explanation was needed.
Constantly ignoring someone who was so important to her had become an increasingly heavy burden.
One might think she could just accept his apology and go back to how things were. But…
Not much time had passed since she’d learned the truth—that Aslan had deceived her.
The betrayal, the self-doubt, and the lingering fear she felt hadn’t faded enough for her to just let it go.
“Sigh…”
Even under the blazing sunlight, Lyla looked wilted, like a leaf shriveling in the heat.
Sighing heavily, even in front of her beloved flowers, she was a picture of quiet despair. Watching her from a distance, Sophia finally decided to intervene.
Approaching Lyla, Sophia gently asked, “Did Aslan do something terrible to you?”
Rather than asking what happened, Sophia’s words went straight to blaming Aslan, and that softened the hardened look on Lyla’s face. Those were the words of someone who trusted her fully.
“No, it’s not like that,” Lyla replied.
“Then what is it?”
Lyla thought for a moment, then offered a small, bitter smile.
“I guess… I’m just a narrow-minded person. I get scared easily. I was afraid he’d brush off something I put real thought and courage into as if it were nothing. And then…I started feeling scared….”
It was something she could have let go. Yet she clung to it stubbornly, unable to resolve it even now. She knew how uncomfortable it was for Aslan, how he kept looking for cues from her, yet she couldn’t bring herself to change.
Sophia watched Lyla swallow her sigh, then asked gently, “Does he really seem like that kind of person to you?”
“…No.” Lyla shook her head, looking dejected.
With her chin resting in her hand, Sophia spoke again, her tone calm. “If you ask me, you and Aslan… are a lot alike.”
Lyla looked puzzled. Alike?
Aslan Tordell and Lyla Violet were opposites in every way—so much so that comparing each difference would almost feel unfair to Aslan.
But Sophia was firm. “You both care too much about others and hardly give yourselves a second thought.”
Lyla blinked in surprise.
Sophia continued, elaborating her point.
“The way I see it, Lyla, even if he’s pretending and making up lies about everything and everyone else in the world, there’s only one person he’s real with. You, he always seems to be genuine with you.”
“…”
Leaving aside what exactly Sophia meant, Lyla wanted to ask how she could be so sure.
Anticipating her daughter’s question, Sophia went on.
“This house, for instance. Isn’t it just a bit too grand for people like us to have arranged on our own?”
