Chapter 21
Almost without realizing, Hezenne lifted her head, her eyes settling on the empty space before her.
“P-please… let me go….”
Her urgent, trembling voice burst out as if beyond her control.
From across the robe between them, she could sense her opponent’s amusement at her reaction.
“No matter whose orders you claim to carry out, how dare a lowly thing like you step foot where you don’t belong.”
The cold voice beyond the robe made Hezenne’s shoulders shrink.
“If you dared come here on your own, you must’ve been prepared for the consequences.”
At the firm tone, Hezenne desperately tried to pull her hand free.
But no matter how she struggled, Ian’s large hand, gripping her wrist, did not budge in the slightest.
“It’s almost pitiful, the way you struggle. I’d let you go even now… but you ought to know the more you resist, the more you provoke a man.”
With those harsh words, Ian suddenly yanked back her robe with a rough motion.
Flooded with light, Hezenne squeezed her eyes shut tight, overwhelmed by the brightness breaking into her darkened view.
The hood of her robe fell away, and at last her face was revealed under the sunlight.
“This is… what….”
Ian’s expression shifted into one of strange bewilderment as his gaze landed on her face.
Her tangled, mousy-brown hair fell around her, and beneath the robe, her features were wrapped thickly in white bandages.
For a moment, Ian was struck silent, as if words had deserted him.
He had expected to finally uncover the face of the slippery woman who had kept evading him—yet what appeared before him instead was a bizarre, unsettling sight.
Seizing the moment, Hezenne pulled her loosened wrist from his grasp and stepped back quickly.
“The reason I go about with my robe drawn over me… as you can see, is because I suffer from a grave skin disease. The physician warned that it might be contagious, so I must always keep myself bandaged and veiled. There is no other reason.”
Fearing her clumsy lie might unravel, Hezenne rushed to add the words in a calm, measured tone.
Ian could not bring himself to believe the suspicious maid entirely, yet neither did he wish to confirm with his own hands the face of some lowborn woman supposedly stricken with a disease contagious enough to be wrapped in bandages.
With a grimace, he looked down at his right hand, as if he had touched something filthy.
“Such light contact won’t cause infection, so… you needn’t worry,” Hezenne added, as if to reassure him.
Only then did she allow herself to truly look at him—slowly drinking in his features.
To see the face she had only ever stolen glances of from the shadows, now in broad daylight, so close before her eyes—it felt like a dream.
All three of their past encounters had strangely taken place in places without light. Only now did she see him fully illuminated.
It was never his handsome exterior that had drawn her heart at first. Yet once her feelings had been swayed, how could she look at him without her heart racing?
The sharp bridge of his nose, the strong brows, and the cool, piercing eyes—every feature harmonized into a face like that of a finely carved statue.
What woman could stand before such a man and not have her heart shaken?
Hezenne engraved every detail of his face into her memory, desperate to capture it, as if this were the last time she might see it in her life.
Her impatient eyes darted quickly across his face, as though memorizing every inch.
But Ian grew displeased under the strange, searching stare.
He reminded himself bitterly: what was he doing, letting himself be caught up like this with some maid—especially now that he had already cut ties with Isabel?
The thought made him feel foolish.
He only wanted to rid himself of the irritating woman before him.
Resolving himself, he wasted no more time.
Ian picked up Isabel’s letter from the table—the one Hezenne had brought.
Without hesitation, he tore it to pieces.
Rrrip—Rrrip—
The sharp sound pierced the silence of the study, making Hezenne flinch. She froze, holding her breath, watching his actions.
Ian scattered the shredded pieces onto the floor, then finally spoke.
“Tell your mistress exactly what you saw.”
“……”
“If she dares show such insolence again, she will pay dearly for it.”
The icy warning told Hezenne everything.
This was not an empty threat—Ian would act on his words.
And he had no intention of ever rekindling his relationship with Isabel.
Hezenne’s steps felt unbearably heavy as she climbed down from the carriage and trudged along.
The thought of Isabel waiting with sharp eyes back at the estate filled her chest with dread, as though she had swallowed a pile of stones.
“What on earth am I supposed to say….”
She sighed deeply, unable to imagine facing Isabel.
How could she report that the Duke had torn her letter to shreds without even reading it?
No matter how she wracked her brain, no good excuse came to her. Hezenne buried her face in her hands with a groan.
After standing frozen in the street for some time, she suddenly lifted her head with resolve.
“That’s it! I’ll just tell her the truth—that I delivered the letter to His Grace and left right away!”
She would no longer add needless details, no longer play the messenger ferrying words between Isabel and Ian.
How much longer would that sharp-eyed man let himself be deceived by her clumsy evasions?
It was a miracle she had gotten away with it this long.
“Yes, this isn’t a lie. I just won’t tell every detail—that’s all. It’s not the same as lying.”
Murmuring this to herself, Hezenne nodded, as if to justify her decision.
“My goodness! Young Lady, where have you been?!”
As Hezenne cautiously slipped in through the back kitchen door, she locked eyes with a maid cutting meat nearby.
Startled by the sight of her sneaking in like a stray cat, the maid let out a sharp cry. Hezenne quickly raised her finger to her lips—“Shh!”
The maid instantly clamped her own mouth shut with both hands and nodded.
“Nothing happened while I was gone, right?” Hezenne whispered.
The maid widened her eyes, lowering her voice as she replied, “Nothing happened? Do you know when you left? Just a while ago, the Baron ordered me to fetch you, and when we found your bed empty—what chaos that caused! Poor Betty even got scolded by the Madam.”
Hezenne’s face twisted with guilt as she thought of Betty suffering because of her.
“Ah, heavens… this isn’t the time. I’d better go tell the Baron you’ve returned—”
“W-wait!”
Hezenne grabbed the maid’s arm in a panic as she started to leave.
“What are you doing! The Madam ordered us to inform them the instant you came back—she was furious!”
Frowning with worry, the maid looked at her anxiously. Hezenne quickly asked, “Do you know why my father was looking for me?”
The maid tilted her head.
“…How would I know that? Does the Baron ever tell the likes of us about such matters?”
She scoffed at the strange question, then turned to leave again—only to pause suddenly.
“Oh, that’s right! Before the Baron asked for you, I think a letter arrived at the estate.”
“…A letter?”
At those words, an uneasy feeling surged within Hezenne, and her voice rose involuntarily.
