"Again?" she asked.
There was Rian. On her terrace. Again. He stood against the railing, arms crossed, watching her through the glass like he had every right to be there. She should be used to it. He'd never cared about rules.
Or boundaries.
As she walked into the terrace, he only laughed, that same deep voice. Then he set down a small pot of red orchids on a side table and took out a pocket book from his dark coat. He put it down too.
She exhaled softly.
"Rian, this isn't allowed. When will you start acting like a—"
"Decent man?" His smile turned wicked.
"You're aiming too high," he added.
"Are you even listening?" she pressed.
Yet the corner of his dark eyes stayed calm, amused. "You know I've never been good at listening. Especially when it comes to you."
She sighed. "Brother says it's scandalous for a man climbing a girl's terrace. Rian, you have a bad reputation in this house."
"Your brother talks too much." His lips curved. "But he's not wrong. No other man sets foot here, Sia. I'll make sure of it."
Her breath caught.
"Except you?" she whispered. "Shameless."
He laughed again—that real, boyish laugh that made Nyasia's handmaid Fay, standing inside the bedroom, shake her head and look away.
"Only me." A pause as he made himself comfortable. "Three months. Maybe beyond. I'll be away. Keep me in your thoughts. Just don't dare miss me too much."
She almost smiled.
He was the only one who never looked at her like something was broken. She liked him for that. For never mentioning her illness. For never treating her like she was fragile glass.
"Three months? What's going to happen?"
His gaze shifted.
"Youʼll figure it out before I'm back."
She guessed it had to do with his wedding. Rumors spread that Rian had already accepted a marriage proposal. With another woman. A woman who'd live longer.
Anyway, it wouldn't matter.
That was the last she saw him.
...
MONTHSLATER, her illness worsened.
She coughed blood for four days.
But she tried.
She tried because Father and Brother were still away. Because... Rian wasn't back yet.
"My lady, the marquis... he's still at the palace. We sent him a letter. He'll come soon. Please, hold on! The young masters are also coming back."
Nyasia's eyes opening a little to see the ceiling.
"D—does he know?"
"Young Master Varyn doesnʼt know you're very sick," Fay said in frantic voice. "You told me to keep quiet. But—"
"Don't."
Nyasia's voice barely came.
'He didnʼt have to know.'
"I'm only here to make trouble for him."
Fay burst into tears, holding Nyasia's hand beside the bed.
'Poor Fay.'
Her thoughts returned to those amused dark eyes of a handsome man.
Rian and another woman.
Walking through sunlit meadows.
'Be a decent man, Rian. Don't travel too much. Your wife will be lonely. Don't be a fool.'
This time, the heat within her was everywhere, and her body was so tired, and somewhere in the distance she heard her Fay scream.
"My lady!"
*