Moving along the quiet corridor, only their soft footsteps lingered on the second floor. Walking, Anton was behind Liam, whose hands were in his pockets. He stared at Liam’s neck, tongue-tied as he pressed his lips. He didn’t know why his chest was pounding restlessly―maybe because he wasn’t used to being complimented by those higher than him. 

Honestly, he didn’t know how to react if Liam was to say something sweet again to him. The hallway stretched long and hushed, its polished floor catching the sunlight as it streamed through the wide windows, warm and unhurried. 

“Why are you so quiet, Anton?” Liam spoke softly, without turning his head back at him. He continued to walk. An expression that almost looked serious. 

“Ah,” Anton reacted awkwardly, and he scrabbed the back of his neck, blushing slightly. The air flow felt calmer. Yet Anton began to feel stiff and uneasy―not with Liam but to himself. So he just said, “I’m sorry. I think I’m not used to the words you said earlier.” A crooked laugh slipped out of Anton, his hand already at the back of his head. 

Liam stood at the foot of the stairs leading to the third floor, his hands still tucked in his pockets. His gaze drifted to the side, as if sensing the tension hanging in the air. Then he let out a soft scoff and glanced back at Anton. He smiled like a teasing gesture. 

“You should get used to it from now on, Anton,” Liam said, setting his foot on the first step. “Now, let’s hurry. We don’t want Ronald waiting.” He added calmly. He didn’t want Anton to feel uncomfortable around him―now it was only Anton he could depend on while staying in the estate. Leaving Anton standing there—speechless, his face flushed like a boy caught off guard.

The third floor was colder than the one below. Though sunlight spilled across the polished floor, it carried no warmth, as if the place had long been forgotten. No wonder servants had their routine of when to go here to clean. That was what Liam thought, seeing traces of dust and a musty smell on a carpet that hadn’t been vacuumed. 

He wondered why this floor felt like a haunted place, as if the people of the past had never truly moved on. Of course, he saw the same doors as on the second floor, each marked with rowan branches above them. Even his great-aunt’s unspoken rule seemed to carry a deeper meaning within this mansion. His curiosity grew stronger, too persistent now to simply ignore. 

Ronald waited outside the library door, catching sight of Liam as he approached. From the very first glance, he took him for a man of breeding—someone raised in a distinguished family. Rosie might not have told him everything about the young man’s past, but the impression came easily, almost instinctively. 

He bowed his head slightly, saying, “Sir―” but Liam stepped in. “We’re sorry to keep you waiting, Ronald. I was drawn to the painting down the stairs.” He smiled. Ronald thought it might be the large family portrait hanging. 

“So you’ve seen the previous owner of the estate,” Ronald said softly. “They were the ancestors of the current Hawthorne Family,” he grinned. Yet his gaze became cold when he saw Anton. Liam noticed something haughty in the way he regarded Anton. 

“Do you have a problem with my companion?” he asked, one brow lifting slightly. A flicker of irritation stirred within him. Anton’s eyes grew wide in disbelief that he was about to stop Liam from causing a scene. But before he could do so, the butler himself was stunned and speechless. 

“I’ve been bothered since we arrived here. Some of your servants patronized my driver...and that includes you, Ronald,” He sounded irked. The air in the corridor felt suffocating, heavy with unease. 

Liam paused, then turned his attention fully to Anton as though defending him in front of Ronald. 

“Anton may be my driver, but I consider him family,” Liam sounded firm. Ronald gulped anxiously. “Great-aunt may not have told you everything for my sake,” he said evenly. “But Anton deserves the same respect while I am staying here under your care. I expect you to keep that in mind.” Liam said. He remained stoic, his expression unreadable.

“I-I apologize, Sir,” Ronald bowed his head, feeling nervous that he stuttered. “I didn’t think lowly of your companion. It’s just that he reminded me of someone who used to work in the orchard―” he said politely. 

But Anton cut him off. “Do you mean my parents? Gregory and Hannah Crisp?” he asked, looking nonchalant. Ronald was astounded. 

Anton scratched the back of his head. “Well, I’ve been told I take after my father. More than my mother, anyway. So you’ve met them before?” Anton's eyes looked expectant. 

Ronald cleared his throat, discreetly covering his mouth. “I knew them very well…especially,” he stopped midway as if it was not his place to discuss something that had already passed. 

Both Liam and Anton tilted their head as though thinking about Ronald’s immediate silence. 

“We can talk about it some other time.” Ronald cleared his throat. “For now, I have unlocked the library door behind me. If you need anything, please pull the service bell rope beside the door on your left, and a servant will attend to you.” With that, he left them behind.

Liam and Anton exchanged glances. Liam found it odd; Anton only shrugged in response. 

“Shall we head inside, Liam?” Anton said kindly.