Episode 8
That thought made Brianna’s chest ache a little.
“This way, miss.”
While she was lost in her thoughts, Abba (the housekeeper) guided her forward.
Quickly brushing away her wandering mind, Brianna followed behind.
But someone was watching her as she crossed the garden.
Up at the very top floor, in his study, Sebastian stood by the window in light indoor clothes, staring down.
From there, he could clearly see Brianna walking up the long road to the mansion.
“Yesterday she was dressed like some courtesan, and today she shows up looking so plain.”
He couldn’t figure this woman out.
The Brianna he saw today looked nothing like the one he had seen at the palace yesterday—almost like she was a different person altogether.
‘What’s her deal?’
Why was she approaching him? What did she want?
Sebastian narrowed his eyes, watching her draw nearer.
‘Does she even realize that I want nothing more than to kill her right here and now?’
A cold smirk tugged at his lips.
Even when Brianna finally disappeared, Sebastian’s gaze stayed fixed on the window.
This time, on the cherry blossom tree she had paused by earlier.
‘Spring’s almost here.’
He pictured the branches bursting with soft white blossoms, and his mouth twisted into a bitter smile.
With a sharp tug, he pulled the curtains closed and sank onto the sofa.
Knock knock.
“Come in.”
Abba entered the room.
“Your Grace, Lady Clark has arrived. She’s waiting for you in the parlor.”
Sebastian replied flatly, “I told you she’d come. I never said to let her inside the house.”
“With all respect, that sounded like an order to let her in.”
She answered without hesitation, smiling as always.
After so many years by his side, Abba wasn’t the least bit rattled by his cold tone.
If anything, Sebastian was the one who usually lost against her.
“You’ve been here too long, Abba.” He clicked his tongue.
“I’ve had many offers of employment elsewhere.”
She kept smiling sweetly—basically daring him to fire her.
Sebastian turned away with a sigh.
“Tell her I’ll be there once I finish something.”
“You don’t have anything to finish.”
Her quick retort made his brow twitch.
“I do. I’ve got plenty of work.”
He strode to his desk. But of course—it was spotless.
Dropping into the chair, he picked up a quill and started shuffling papers just to look busy.
Abba stepped closer and said softly, “A true gentleman doesn’t keep a lady waiting.”
Lady?
Gentleman?
He almost scoffed.
“She’s your very first guest here. Don’t be rude to her, especially not to a lady.”
Her words were gentle but firm.
She watched him closely, then added:
“She seemed surprised when I mentioned that you personally tend the flowers here.”
“Of course she was. Who wouldn’t be?” Sebastian muttered like it was nothing.
Abba had seen it herself—those rough hands that once held a sword were surprisingly delicate when planting trees and flowers.
Every part of this mansion’s beauty was born from his careful work.
And yet, from the outside, the place only looked dark and unwelcoming.
Rumors and high walls made people believe it was nothing but coldness within.
To Abba, this mansion reflected Sebastian himself.
‘On the outside, cold and cruel. On the inside, unbearably delicate.’
She silently wished, not for the first time, that someone would come along who could see his true self.
“Show her that side of you today, Your Grace.”
Sebastian let out a long sigh, then stood.
“Prepare paper and a good pen for her.”
“And I’ll have refreshments served as well.”
His brow twitched again at her persistence, but he didn’t stop her.
“At least make it warm. Her clothes looked thin.”
Because of that small consideration, Abba’s lips curved in a soft smile he didn’t notice.
In the Parlor
Brianna wasn’t sure how long she had been waiting when the door opened again.
Abba and a few maids came in, setting out an elegant tea table before her.
Abba poured a steaming cup.
“It’s tea made from dried chrysanthemum petals. It’ll warm your hands and feet.”
Brianna smiled faintly and nodded in thanks.
“And,” Abba added, moving a stack of fine stationery and a luxurious fountain pen onto the table, “His Grace asked that these be prepared for you.”
Brianna blinked in surprise.
‘I never expected treatment like this…’
Not even her father treated her this way.
And yet Sebastian—of all people—was giving her such courtesy.
She thought back to earlier, when her half-brother Polian had refused to lend her a carriage.
“Go wherever you want, but do it on your own two feet,” he’d sneered.
He hadn’t stopped her from going out, but he’d made sure she suffered for it.
A man with countless carriages had denied her a single one—just to take his anger out on her because of the Emperor’s recent decisions.
So she had walked.
All the way from Count Clark’s mansion in the bustling city to this ducal estate in the mountains.
A long, rough journey.
At least no one in her household would hear she’d gone to Leonhardt’s estate.
Before leaving, she had stuffed a few sheets of paper into her sleeve, but hadn’t dared bring a pen in case she lost it.
She’d planned to ask for one here.
“Please use them freely. If you need more, just let us know.”
The paper was smooth, high-quality.
The pen gleamed with craftsmanship.
Brianna held it carefully, her fingers almost trembling.
[Thank you,] she wrote.
“It’s only natural to provide for a guest,” Abba replied with a kind smile.
Just then, the door opened again.
Sebastian entered.
Brianna quickly rose and bowed.
He had changed into a neat suit, sharp and commanding. Sitting across from her, he remarked:
“It’s late morning already—closer to lunch.”
His tone was full of mockery.
Abba shot him a look, silently scolding him: Be nicer.
Sebastian avoided her gaze.
“Abba, I need privacy with my guest. Leave us.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
She obeyed, exiting quietly.
Sebastian leaned back, eyes fixed on Brianna.
“So then. Tell me why you walked all this way to see me.”
Brianna lowered her gaze, lifted the pen, and began to write.
When she pushed the note toward him, the words read:
[Please marry me.]
