“Mary— I mean, Your Grace—may I come in?” a maid’s voice called softly from behind the door.

Amara recognized it instantly. A wave of embarrassment washed over her. Please… don’t come in.

“I’m coming,” she replied, her voice faint, hesitant.

The door opened quietly. The maid stepped in, balancing a tray in her arms, and shut the door with her foot.

The room was dim, lit only by moonlight seeping through the curtains. Silvery light danced across Amara’s face, tracing the sorrow written there. The maid looked at her for a moment, unsure how to speak the comfort she wished she could give.

“I brought you water—and some food you like,” the maid said gently, setting down the tray. She pulled out a chair and sat nearby, her posture respectful but worried.

Amara glanced at her. “What is it, May?”

“The Duke said I should stay and make sure you eat every last piece,” May replied, her eyes wide, almost apologetic. And I know he meant it.

“You’re really not going to ask anything?” Amara said, a note of frustration breaking through her calm.

“Well… I want to,” May admitted, smiling faintly. “But first, you need to eat. We can talk after, all right?”

Amara met her gaze, then silently began to eat.

“You’re just going to watch me?” she asked after a moment.

“Yes. Do you know how terrifying he is?” May replied, half joking, half sincere.

Amara’s lips twitched in a ghost of a smile. When she finished, she leaned back in her chair. “My story isn’t any different from yours, May. So don’t worry.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” May said, her tone light but her eyes serious. “Everyone here’s either a legendary warrior or a duke’s wife.”

Amara gave a soft, bitter laugh.

“I always knew you had a story,” May continued. “But this? I didn’t expect this. I mean… I suspected you were a lady.”

“How did you know?” Amara asked, brow furrowing slightly.

“You don’t see yourself through our eyes, Mary—Amara,” May said gently. “You move with grace. You read and write perfectly. Even your handwriting looks like something from a noble’s study. And when you worked… even sweeping floors looked elegant.”

“Elegant chores,” Amara murmured, a faint smile touching her lips.

May hesitated before speaking again. “Did he… hurt you? Is that why you ran away?”

“I’m a war hero, May,” Amara said quietly but firmly. “I can fight back.”

“Well, he’s handsome,” May said, shrugging. “I can see why you fell for him. But… can I ask what happened?”

“…It’s a long story,” Amara replied after a pause.

“Did he cheat on you?” May asked bluntly.

“Sort of,” Amara said, looking away. “But like I said—it’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.”

“Is his mistake forgivable?” May asked softly.

“The mistake doesn’t belong to him alone,” Amara said, her tone heavy with regret.

“Do you think he can change?”

“Maybe,” Amara said. “He’s still chasing after me… He looks old. And tired.”

“No one remains unchanged,” May murmured, her voice touched with melancholy.

“Perhaps you’re right,” Amara whispered, lowering her eyes.

“What will you do now?” May asked.

“I’m going to leave here. I can’t go back,” Amara said firmly.

“But will you truly leave?” May’s voice trembled with concern. “Will you find happiness? I’ve never seen you smile—not really. It’s as if your joy has always been hidden behind the pain.”

“I’ve almost forgotten the warmth of a genuine smile,” Amara confessed, her voice barely audible.

“Endless running… does it hold any worth?” May asked, her tone tender yet aching.