Chapter 5
Thanks to having learned horseback riding, riding a horse wasn’t difficult.
The forest she returned to after several years looked exactly as she remembered.
Passing through a dense stretch of spruce trees, she came upon a river that seemed as though it had flowed since ancient times. It was the Ferry River, the closest river to the village, which eventually flowed into the sea.
Leaving the forest, she steered her horse across the fields, avoiding the valley. Every place she passed had once been familiar to her.
When she reached a site marked by massive pillars, Sephine slowed her pace. The old altar, overgrown with shrubs each time she saw it, now resembled giant roots.
It had once belonged to a nearby monastery, but after the monastery closed, the four neglected pillars had weathered and faded, as if they had been dragged up from the sea after centuries.
Someday, if she were to paint this place, she would capture it as the monastery might once have been in its glory. After circling between the pillars for a while, she turned her horse and rode along a moss-covered rocky path.
After some time, she pulled the reins and brought the horse to a stop.
It was the end of the path—there was nowhere further to go.
From the edge of the rocky trail, she looked down.
A coral-colored sea spread out before her, embraced by a horseshoe-shaped cape covered in green.
It felt like a tiny kingdom from a story might exist there. The scenery always stirred her imagination—that was why she came to this cape every time she visited Greenwood.
Feeling like a traveler dropped into a foreign land, Sephine tied her horse to a trunk and took the bundle hanging from the saddle.
The wind was strong, but she didn’t mind. Soon, she would be able to see the sunset over the sea.
Spreading a cloth over the soft, flat moss, Sephine took out her notebook and pen and faced the ocean. For a while, there was nothing but the quiet sound of wind and waves.
Then, an unfamiliar sound broke into the stillness.
“A young lady…?”
Voices murmured.
Turning her head, she saw strangers on horseback approaching. Three or four men—she couldn’t immediately tell who they were.
The man at the front, dressed in finely tailored riding clothes unlike anything she had seen in the countryside, looked down at her. Unlike the others, a middle-aged man in work clothes approached him and spoke quietly.
“That must be the guest staying at the Beringheim household. There’s no woman in Greenwood who would ride so freely like that. I heard she’s the daughter of a count…”
The man at the front didn’t take his eyes off her as he turned his horse toward her.
Sephine, dressed in a practical riding dress with a cloak to block the wind, stared back at him—unaware that the hood attached to her cloak had fallen back in the wind.
It was him.
Heath.
Those vivid blue eyes poured down on her.
Those eyes—there was no doubt. It was him. It felt almost strange that she hadn’t recognized him immediately.
But unlike her, he looked down at her as though examining a suspicious stranger.
His gaze moved slowly—over the shoes she had taken off on the cloth, her hands tightly gripping her pen, and her pale face revealed beneath the hood.
Then he spoke.
“Have you been well, Lady Rohfman?”
Lady.
Lady?
Even though there was obviously no one behind her, Sephine instinctively glanced back, unsure if he was referring to her.
Then she suddenly remembered Felix—how he had wrapped an arm around her waist while introducing himself.
They must have looked like a married couple.
“I am…”
I’m not anyone’s wife. I’ve never been married.
Should I say my name first?
Standing before her first love—whom she alone recognized—she found herself unable to speak properly.
As she hesitated, he spoke again.
“And where is your husband?”
Slowly, Sephine stood up straight and looked up at him.
“I am Sephine Buchanan.”
She met his eyes directly.
His gaze, which had been scanning the surroundings as if searching for her husband, returned to her.
Flustered by the unfamiliar title of “lady,” her face flushed red.
“I’m not married.”
Even after hearing her name and answer, his expression did not change.
Instead, the corners of his lips lifted slightly, as if he had heard something amusing. His horse shifted beneath him, and he casually tightened the reins.
“I see. My apologies.”
Despite his words, he didn’t look apologetic at all.
Though her face grew warmer, Sephine maintained her composure.
“It’s fine. And you, sir?”
He raised one eyebrow slightly, as if questioning her.
“After hearing a lady’s introduction, you intend to skip your own?”
Though he smiled faintly, he continued to study her closely.
Her loosely braided hair swayed in the wind across her shoulder. It was hard to tell when exactly the smile disappeared from his face.
Without the smile, he looked just like he had at seventeen.
Sephine waited calmly for his answer. Perhaps because of the sea before them, his blue eyes seemed even more vivid.
“I am Heathhark Axen of Karl Company.”
Meeting her gaze, he continued,
“You may call me Axen. Around here, they call me ‘that man from Karl something or other,’ but I’d rather not hear such crude words come from a lady’s pretty lips.”
Sephine lowered her eyes.
So… you don’t want to remember me.
She could tell from the smile spreading across his face again.
The disappointment was brief. She was no longer the girl she had been back then—she couldn’t simply bring up the past so directly.
“I don’t know if we’ll meet again, but… understood.”
“We will,” he replied. “I can’t give up on the Beringheim land. I intend to keep knocking until they sign the contract.”
Disappointment was pointless.
Sephine’s expression cooled as she spoke.
“So you’re tearing Greenwood apart for that purpose.”
He gave a short laugh, as if agreeing.
“Beautiful things make one greedy.”
Holding her notebook tightly, she replied,
“How noble of you.”
“Hardly noble.”
Though she had meant it sarcastically, it didn’t seem to affect him at all.
Summoning courage on behalf of Greenwood, Sephine spoke firmly,
“You don’t feel any responsibility for undermining the order of our kingdom with your business?”
“That’s right.”
Suppressing a look of boredom, he smiled smoothly.
“I see you enjoy lecturing. As expected of a noble lady.”
Perhaps deciding the conversation had no further value, he turned his horse.
In the distance, the group waiting for him began preparing to ride again.
He added,
“Enjoy your book. And give my regards to the Beringheims.”
Before Sephine could respond, he was already moving away.
Leading the group, he disappeared into the forest.
The crashing sound of the waves suddenly felt louder than before.
Sephine couldn’t bring herself to open her notebook.
It wasn’t because of the wind flipping the pages, nor the now irritating sound of the waves.
It felt as though a page of her cherished memories had been torn away.
* * *
A few days later, two letters arrived.
One from Felix, and one from Count Buchanan.
Sephine opened her father’s short letter first.
[Sephine,
I received your letter saying you arrived safely. I’m relieved to hear that everyone is well.
The situation in the capital is not good, so I have come to Bellot.
I cannot write all the political details here, but things are not unfolding favorably.
There is nothing for you to worry about. As long as the ruling party that prioritizes aristocracy remains, our family—with its strong roots—will only experience minor disturbances. Moreover, if you marry the future Rohfman senator, our foundation will only grow stronger. So your father has no concerns.
More than that, there is no news I am particularly waiting for, so do not plan to stay there too long. Let us meet again soon. I hope the situation improves by the time you return.
No—rather, I am certain it will.
For the future of our family, you will soon have many responsibilities. When things improve, come not to Bellot, but to the mansion in Frica.
Take care until then.**]
