Chapter 89

At that question, Agnes’s heart sank heavily.

Was she not curious?

That could not be true.

Of course she was curious.

Why had Dylan fallen out so badly with the son of Count Peridot, once said to be his closest friend? If he felt betrayed, why did he still act as though he despised the Peridot family while secretly protecting them?

Why did Marcella Peridot keep tormenting him? Did he hate magic or fear it?

And were all those mysteries somehow connected to the secret he feared most, the curse of vampirism he tried so hard to hide?

She wanted to know all of it.

But Agnes had never once asked.

“Yes. I am curious.”

Because Dylan’s feelings mattered more to her than her own curiosity.

“But unless Your Grace chooses to tell me, I will not try to find out.”

“What if I never intend to tell you?”

Even at those cold words, Agnes remained calm.

“Then I will live the rest of my life without knowing.”

Her firm and unwavering reply cracked the perfection of Dylan’s composed expression for the first time.

“Did Marcella mention Noah?”

“She did.”

“And even so, you still refuse to know?”

Agnes nodded again.

“Yes. As long as Lady Peridot does not approach Noah unnecessarily, that is enough for me.”

She wanted to reassure him, yet there was still a faint trace of doubt in Dylan’s blue eyes. Agnes opened her mouth to explain a little further.

“No matter what the reason is, I believe that Your Grace will protect Noah.”

So there was no need to know his secret just to keep the child safe.

All she needed was to stop Marcella.

That was what Agnes was saying.

Dylan gave a quiet, incredulous laugh and rubbed his forehead with his hand.

Just how far did this woman plan to trust him?

It was not even the sort of reckless gamble where one risks danger to gain something.

Agnes simply trusted him completely.

He had promised to protect them, so she believed he would not harm them. That belief alone was enough for her.

‘She barely knows anything about me.’

A faint sound escaped his lips.

It was not mockery directed at Agnes. It was closer to admiration.

Dylan lowered his hand from his forehead and returned to his usual calm expression.

“I will make sure Marcella can no longer approach Noah. Do not worry.”

He did not say how. But Agnes knew it would be far more decisive than the plan she and Gavelin had once discussed about blocking winter timber supplies.

“Thank you, Your Grace. I will rely on you.”

Agnes smiled brightly, her expression full of relief.

If Dylan said he would do something, he would. At some point, she had come to believe that completely.

And Dylan could see that belief in her eyes.

‘How could anyone betray someone like this?’

He rose silently, hiding his thoughts.

“Please rest. I will go change.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Agnes had no idea that her faith in him only deepened the bond between them.

She simply answered with cheerful gratitude.

* * *

When Dylan returned to the bedroom, Agnes was already asleep.

Lying on her side, she had pulled the blanket up to her shoulders and breathed softly in a steady rhythm.

Not far away, the fireplace crackled and glowed with a warm orange light. Even with the brightness flickering against the walls, she slept peacefully, untouched by it.

Dylan stepped out from the dressing room and stopped at a spot where he could see her face.

He was not standing close, but if she were to open her eyes, she would immediately know he was there.

He did not wish to make her uncomfortable, yet he could not look away.

He liked that she could sleep so easily by his side, without fear or caution.

When they had first begun sharing a room, her shoulders had been stiff, her body frozen until morning.

But lately, Agnes had started to shift in her sleep, turning slightly as if she had finally learned to rest comfortably. Dylan did not dislike that small change.

Still, what was he doing now?

If Agnes were to wake and find his eyes on her, she would surely be startled. She would wonder why he was watching her. This innocent yet perceptive woman might even begin to feel wary.

He did not want that.

Yet at the same time, he did.

He wanted to see those golden eyes tremble and avert their gaze, the slender throat swallowing nervously, the hands that stiffened as she tried to pretend composure while retreating just enough to keep distance.

He wanted to see her as she had been the first time they met.

A faint, self-deprecating smile touched his lips.

How absurd it was to wish for something that would only tarnish the trust of the one person in the world who believed in him completely.

Even he could not understand his own thoughts.

* * *

After the day Dylan promised to take care of things, the invitations from Marcella stopped arriving completely.

At parties hosted by other noblewomen, Agnes no longer encountered her unexpectedly either.

Agnes was curious about what Dylan had done, but she quickly pushed the thought away. She had promised not to ask unless he chose to tell her. As long as Noah was safe, nothing else mattered.

That winter passed in peace.

Every five days she helped Dylan with his meals, once every ten days she attended tea gatherings at various estates, and each day she reviewed accounts and inventories to ensure the Vasteron household ran smoothly.

From time to time, she met Dylan in the mansion halls, and Noah had grown used to running ahead of her to greet him first.

At first, Dylan had looked startled each time, but then his expression would soften as he accepted the greeting. It had become an ordinary part of their life.

So an unremarkable yet warm winter quietly came to an end, and spring began to arrive.

The frozen soil grew softer, and tiny sprouts began pushing through the ground.

In the still morning air, the sound of gardeners trimming withered branches signaled that it was time to prepare for a new season.

The heavy curtains were replaced one by one. Several of the stoves were polished and closed for the warmer months, and some of the maids had already changed into lighter uniforms.

Agnes was giving instructions to keep warm water ready at all times so that Noah would not catch a cold in the changing weather when Sharon came in with her usual pleasant smile.

“My Lady, the social season is just around the corner. You’ll need a few new dresses, and our young master will need all his clothes remade. He’s grown so much.”

Sharon was right.

Though there were still two or three months before the season officially began, the famous boutiques in the capital would already be fully booked.

“I think I can have my dresses made here in the North. But for Noah, I’d like his new suits tailored in the capital’s style. Do you think there’s anywhere still taking orders?”

“Of course. I actually made a few reservations at some boutiques in the capital already. Once you go down to have the measurements taken, they’ll start right away.”

“That must have been difficult. Thank you for arranging it.”

“That’s my job, My Lady,” Sharon said with pride in her voice. Agnes smiled, impressed once again by her capable head maid.

“Still, it would be safer to have a few pieces made here as well. The northern boutiques may not match the capital’s fashion, but their craftsmanship is wonderful. They even sent over some catalogues, so you can choose one you like.”

At Sharon’s signal, a maid placed several thick catalogues on Agnes’s desk.

Agnes opened one without much expectation.

Sharon had been right.

The northern boutiques could not always keep pace with the ever-changing trends of the capital, so the designs still carried traces of the previous season’s fashions.

Even so, the careful, solid craftsmanship and quiet elegance typical of the North stood out. It was not a flaw at all.

In fact, Agnes thought that such northern designs might send a stronger message to the capital’s people.

A message that said, We are living well here.