"Are you suspecting me of being a swindler right now?"
The man frowned, visibly offended. He glanced back and forth between Eleanor and Adrian before swinging the door wide open.
"Come in. I've got nothing to hide."
Eleanor exchanged a quick look with Adrian, and the two of them stepped into the shabby log cabin.
"Excuse us," she said politely.
The man gestured curtly toward the dining table.
"Sit there. I'll check if I have any stock left."
He stomped into a small adjoining room, still wearing a look of righteous indignation. After a short while, he returned with several white paper packets, which he tossed onto the table.
"These are all I've got left. Same stuff I sold yesterday."
Eleanor opened one of the packets. Inside was a small, round pill.
Sniff.
She brought it close to her nose and frowned slightly. The scent was oddly familiar.
"May I taste it?" she asked, looking up at him.
"Go ahead."
The man shrugged indifferently.
"Ellen," Adrian murmured, frowning in disapproval, but Eleanor boldly popped the pill into her mouth and began to chew. The taste struck a familiar chord, and her eyes narrowed.
I know this flavor. I've definitely tasted this before.
With his chin raised proudly, the man declared,
"It's a fine medicine made with ingredients imported from the East. Not some cheap imitation or scam. It soothes the nerves and calms the heart."
At that, Eleanor finally realized what it reminded her of — the suspicious little pill tasted almost exactly like the cheongsimhwan "clear-mind pill" from her previous life.
She turned the packet over and carefully read the list of ingredients written in tiny script on the back. Most were harmless herbs, though a few were unfamiliar.
Side Effects: If the medicine does not suit one's constitution, nausea, stomachache, or diarrhea may occur.
Her hand went slack as she read the final line.
So that's it.
Clearheart wasn't some shady concoction — it was an ordinary medicine, with its side effects clearly printed on the label.
The man dropped heavily into a chair and asked,
"So what brings you here?"
"One of my students took this medicine," Eleanor explained. "She had a stomachache during her exam and couldn't finish. I thought maybe…" Her voice trailed off.
The man thumped his chest with his fist, speaking with conviction.
"I've been running this business for over ten years. The students taking the Deln Academy entrance exams are mostly from noble families. Do you think I'd be stupid enough to scam people like that?"
Eleanor bowed her head slightly.
"I'm sorry…"
"Seems the medicine just didn't suit that particular student. Unfortunate, but that's not something I can control."
He leaned back in his chair and sighed deeply. Thankfully, he didn't seem truly angry.
Eleanor hesitated before asking,
"Does this happen often?"
"It happens, but rarely. Maybe three or four times in ten years."
He gave her a sympathetic look.
"Your student was just terribly unlucky, that's all. I'm sorry for her sake."
"Ena."
Siena and Hestia sat across from each other at a small table. In front of Siena sat a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
"Siena, look at me," Hestia said gently.
But Siena couldn't lift her head. She was too ashamed of herself.
How could I be so foolish?
How could I throw away everything I worked for so easily?
With swollen eyes, Siena rubbed at her face, her head still bowed.
Watching her daughter's trembling shoulders, Hestia swallowed a deep sigh. She knew better than anyone how hard Siena had studied.
Reaching across the table, Hestia took Siena's small hand in both of hers.
"Ena, it's all right."
"It's not all right," Siena said through a trembling voice.
"Something like this could never be all right…"
Tears fell one by one onto the table.
Hestia rose and pulled Siena onto her lap. The child immediately wrapped her arms around her mother's neck and buried her tear-streaked face in the hollow of her shoulder.
Hestia stroked her daughter's hair and spoke softly.
"I know, sweetheart. You worked so hard, and you didn't get to show everyone just how much you've grown. That must hurt."
After a long bout of sniffles, Siena finally whispered,
"Mom, aren't you… sniff… aren't you disappointed in me?"
"Of course I'm upset," Hestia said with a small smile. "Because my little girl is hurting."
"You're not going to scold me?"
"No, I'm not."
Siena's arms tightened around her mother's neck.
She had wanted to be a daughter her mother could be proud of — to make her stand tall and proud even without a father by their side.
With a downcast face, Siena confessed,
"I wanted to come in first place, so you could brag about me to everyone… I'm sorry."
Hestia's hand, which had been patting her back, paused for a moment. She drew back slightly to meet her daughter's golden eyes — the same color as her late husband's.
Such a tender-hearted child. She'd grown up far too fast. Hestia's chest ached with both love and guilt.
"You've always been my pride, Siena," she said softly, cupping her daughter's cheeks.
"From the moment you were born until now — not once have you ever not been."
"…"
"And it'll be the same in the future. No matter what you do, what choices you make, or what kind of life you lead — that won't change."
"But…"
Before Siena could say more, Hestia shook her head firmly.
"The only thing that matters to me is that you're happy. That's it. Whether you study well or not, whether you win or lose — Mommy will always love you."
Siena's reddened nose quivered. The anxiety in her heart melted away in an instant.
Hestia kissed her daughter's forehead gently.
"You did well, my darling."
Inside the carriage heading back to the Duke's Castle, Eleanor glanced at Damian.
"Now that your exam's over, what will you do with your free time?"
"I'm not sure," he said honestly.
"Nothing you want to do?"
Damian shook his head.
"Actually… I kind of wish the exam wasn't over yet."
"Really? Why's that?"
"Because I liked studying with you and my friends," he said with a shy smile. "I liked visiting your house, and going to the palace… and it was fun playing with Luke and Ena at the Castle."
"Was it now?"
"And I liked when my brother came to pick me up every day."
At the sudden mention of Kaidel, Eleanor's shoulders tensed. Her chest throbbed faintly.
The look in his eyes from that last night still burned vividly in her mind — the dark, sunken blue of sorrow. Eleanor clenched her fists tightly.
I'll talk to him today. No matter how long I have to wait.
But what should she say when she saw him? The thought alone made her throat dry.
Soon, the familiar stone walls of the Duke's Castle came into view. The carriage rolled through the gates and into the quiet courtyard.
Why does it feel so empty today? she wondered. There are usually at least a few knights standing guard.
As the carriage door opened, the butler, Jonathan, greeted them warmly.
"Young Master. Ah, and Lady Everett — welcome. You must be tired from your journey."
"It's been a while, Jonathan. Have you been well?"
"Busy, but well enough. Would you care for some tea before you return home, my lady?"
Eleanor glanced toward the mansion.
"Before that… is Kaidel at the Castle right now?"
It was an ordinary question, yet Jonathan's face stiffened slightly.
"The Duke is currently away, my lady."
"Oh… will he be back soon? I have something important to tell him."
Jonathan looked apologetic.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible, my lady."
"Then when can I see him?"
"I can't say for certain."
"Can you at least tell me where he went?"
"I'm sorry, I can't disclose that either. His Grace left on urgent business, and even I don't know when he'll return."
He doesn't know.
He can't say.
Eleanor pressed on, but Jonathan had no further answers to give.
"I suppose he wouldn't leave Damian alone for long," she murmured, forcing a small smile. "So he'll be back within the week?"
Jonathan tilted his head hesitantly. Eleanor's persistence was unusual. Normally, she would have nodded politely and let the matter drop. But today, she was desperate.
"I believe it may take longer," Jonathan admitted. "The Young Master will be staying for a time at the Duke's territory with Madam Clarisse of Orleans."
Eleanor's shoulders drooped. Jonathan, sensing her disappointment, added gently,
"I must ask for your understanding, my lady. His Grace gave strict orders — he won't be meeting with anyone personally for the time being. But I promise, as soon as he returns, you will be the first to know."
"…He gave that order himself?"
The words hit her like a blow.
He doesn't want to see anyone.
Don't look for him.
It sounded, painfully, like something directed at her. Eleanor's face went pale.
"My lady, are you feeling unwell? You've gone white as a sheet. Please, rest for a moment inside—"
"No."
Eleanor shook her head and stepped back.
"I think I'll head home. I'm just a bit tired. Please excuse me."
"Of course."
Eleanor turned to Damian with a gentle smile. She hugged him tightly, as she always did.
"You did so well, Damian. Get plenty of rest, and have fun at the Castle. Give my regards to Clarisse."
"I'll write to you," he promised.
"I'd love that. I'll be sure to reply."
She ruffled his hair affectionately, and Damian smiled.
"Take care, Jonathan."
"Safe travels, my lady."
Eleanor gave a polite nod, stepped into her carriage, and closed the door. As the wheels began to turn and the Duke's Castle receded behind her, the smile slowly faded from her lips.
On the way home, she thought over and over again.
It's nothing. He's always been hard to meet. There are people who wait months just to see him once. This is normal. That's all this is.
But even as she repeated it to herself, the ache in her chest deepened.
Then why does it hurt so much?
Eleanor pressed a fist against her sternum. It throbbed like a bruise.