The Crown Prince himself was coming to congratulate Eli and Delihan’s engagement.

When those words slipped from Lady Sher’s mouth, the two of them froze completely.

Just for a moment.

Their eyes sought each other, and short, shallow breaths escaped.

They looked as if they had expected it, but they weren’t fully prepared.

After all, this was the pinnacle of the kingdom moving.

In front of that, friendship and emotions had to be set aside.

Eli gripped my hand tightly.

Delihan did the same.

Neither of them spoke.

We didn’t need words to understand.

The fleeting gesture carried their regret and apology.

It was proof they had regarded me as a friend until the very end.

The carriage door closed, hooves kicking up dust.

Even at that moment, Eli turned once more to look at me through the window.

And then—
They left.

“From my perspective… it’s like the local lord visiting home.”

The words slipped out in a mutter.

I followed the dust with a familiar gaze, then let my eyes fall, feeling a little empty.

I imagined what they must feel—ecstasy, burden, or just duty.

…Those were emotions beyond my reach from where I stood.

I returned to reality.

Heavier than any name for feelings, the numbers of debt before me.

Yes, that was my place.

Clutching my stained skirt, I headed toward the valley.

The mud stains from kneeling had seeped in deeper than I’d thought.

It was late, and the area around the valley was quiet.

The sun had already disappeared behind the ridges.

This place wasn’t far from the village, but being alone at this hour wasn’t exactly wise.

Still, I came here often.

Whenever I needed a breath.

As I settled near the water, a fleeting movement caught the edge of my vision.

A sword.

And the hand wielding it.

Short, precise motions.

The arm moved without a hint of looseness, the blade tracing smooth lines.

Moving my gaze a bit, I saw a young man quietly practicing with the sword.

The dark sky made it hard to see, but at least I could catch his eyes.

They held focus and tension.

No decorations, no showiness. Just exactly what was necessary.

He had navy hair and gray eyes.

A knight.

Elegant clothing, posture, and demeanor.

In this world, knights were a reliable profession.

At least, from my experience.

Of course, it varies from person to person.

Those with a sense of responsibility to protect something were rare and precious anywhere.

His eyes briefly brushed mine.

Instinctively, I held my breath.

The sword’s momentum slowly stopped, and he shook his shoulder, picking up his sword to resume training.

I finally exhaled.

…Of course.

It’d be fortunate if he was a sane, reasonable knight.

This world didn’t guarantee that.

Leaning lightly against a rock by the valley, I carefully dipped the hem of my skirt into the water.

I rubbed the muddy stains with my fingertips.

The cold water seeped in, but the chill cleared my mind.

Strangely, I liked this quiet.

The water shimmered softly, and somewhere in the darkness, the sound of a sword cutting through the air echoed faintly.

It was oddly comforting.

“Did it come out… hmm.”

I lifted the skirt again.

I shook the wet fabric in the wind to check the stains, but in the settling sunset, it was hard to tell.

There were no streetlights in this world.

Magic? Perhaps, but that was only for nobles, and I had only watched.

After sunset, darkness swallowed everything.

So now was my last chance to check the stains.

I swayed the skirt left and right, judging the colors in the twilight.

Maybe it faded, maybe not—

Honestly, it didn’t matter much. I wasn’t wearing this outside anyway.

“Lady Sher’s scrutiny is getting… more blatant.”

I muttered with a slight smile.

The water flowed silently.

The ‘distancing’ had likely started around the time Eli and Delihan began seeing each other as more than friends.

Or perhaps even before that.

Lady Sher wouldn’t have overlooked even the slightest gap.

I remembered.

A spring day a year ago. Lady Sher had summoned me separately.

The sun fell gently in the parlor, the scent of tea drifting quietly.

Lady Sher spoke to me in her precise, gentle tone.

“Cecily, perhaps… you should keep a little distance.
Wouldn’t it be odd for you to be so close to two people who—well, who are like a couple?”

Her words were soft, but the meaning was sharp as a blade.

‘You are a commoner.’
‘You don’t belong beside them.’

I already knew that without her saying it…

Still, stepping down from the carriage to hear it politely, I could only nod.

Lady Sher was that kind of person.

Gentle and smiling on the outside, but strict in boundaries and standards beneath.

I was still by their side not because of her approval, but because of Eli’s will.

And yet… she didn’t completely push me away.

That made it more delicate, and therefore more uncomfortable.

I rubbed the fabric again, turning my head toward the sound of the sword beyond the water.

A shadow wielding a sword adjusted its stance once more in the dark forest.

And I realized.

No matter how long I’ve known someone, there are lines not to cross.

And I was standing outside that line.

Feeling and hearing were two different things.

The shock of hearing what I already knew in my head was… stronger than expected.

“I’m not naive enough to just nod along when someone dodges the point.”

The words slipped from my mouth.

Meaningless, but leaving them unsaid would have been suffocating.

I grabbed the laundry bundle again, pressing harder at the stain in frustration.

The water was already cold, the fabric twisting stubbornly in my grip.

What had Delihan and I done?

Did he even show any real interest in me?

No, Lady Sher didn’t know. She didn’t know the crucial part at all.

Delihan liking Eli wasn’t about time—it was about courage.

And who had given him that courage?

Who had pushed that dull boy forward?

Me.

At first, I had only teased lightly.

The subtle tension between them, disrupted by a few words, was playful.

Honestly… it was kind of cute.

But then…

Once I nudged, things stuck surprisingly well.

When Delihan hesitated, I’d say, “Hey, Delihan. Aren’t you going to confess?”

When Eli was dazed, I’d say, “That expression just means you like him.”

Step by step, until—

They ended up engaged.

If I hadn’t been there, they’d probably still be hesitating.

I thought I might even get a thank-you gift… but what came back?

‘Keep your distance.’

‘This crosses a line, my lady.’

‘Swoosh—’

The sound of fabric tearing as I twisted it.

Not loud, thin and soft—

Yet it mirrored exactly how I felt inside.

“…Hah, damn it. It tore.”

I wasn’t angry, just drained.

I raised my head from slumped shoulders.

The night sky spread above the valley.

Maybe because it was a rural village, stars were plentiful.

Dots of light still embedded in the blue darkness.

Romantic to anyone else, perhaps.

But I knew.

Those stars didn’t offer comfort or encouragement, only silence.

Now… what should I do…

Lady Sher wanting to distance me wasn’t surprising.

The nobles’ power plays? That was their business.

Eli…

She was much stronger than she appeared.

She pushed what she wanted, took what she needed without asking.

If she wanted to spend time with me, nothing Lady Sher did would change that.

Thinking that, I sorted out my feelings.

…The problem was my reality.

Debt.

A stiff word like sand in my mouth.

Sharper than cold water, making the mind alert.

Tonight, what I needed to think about wasn’t relationships or feelings—

Just numbers.

I still didn’t know exactly what my mother had done.

From childhood, I only knew one thing. Our house had debt, and it never decreased.

Father? Never existed. I’d never seen him.

I asked once, but Mom would divert the topic with a smile.

Eventually, I stopped asking.

Not because I didn’t want to know, but because bringing it up seemed only to make her suffer more.

That’s how I lived.

Debt persisted, and even the wages we earned barely covered the interest.

And as I grew, it worsened.

Loan sharks’ footsteps each month, interest statements, blank faces.

If I’d only faced it once or twice, I might have been scared.

But I’d grown so accustomed that I no longer even felt upset.

Still, it was clear.

We couldn’t continue like this.

I worked at restaurants early in the morning, ran errands at the laundry at noon.

If there was a chance, I cared for children too. But that was barely different from counting coins.

Even one more penny, hiding pain, pushing my body, smiling, bowing.

Yet always at the end, only this remained:

‘I can’t go on like this.’

So I needed a better job.

A steady wage, room and board, noble household work—ideal.

Such opportunities were rare, almost impossible without connections.

For a rural commoner girl like me, they were out of reach.

Of course, there were ways.

…But that required giving up being human.

Loan sharks increasingly cast blatant gazes as I grew.

One day, a man smiling told me he could “settle things another way” instead of debt, and my fingertips tingled.

Then I realized—time was running out.

When would the house be claimed?

When would Mom collapse?

When would I stop being a ‘person’ and be treated like a ‘thing’?

No longer a hunch, just reality.

“What can a rural commoner girl my age… really do?”

I dipped my hands into the water.

They looked small, thin, and still clean.

But I knew. How much these hands had done.

How long they had endured.

And yet, no solution came.

If I could work in a noble’s estate, survival would be clear.

But the door was too high, and I was too ordinary.

Close, yet out of reach.

Still, I had to try.

By any means…

I had to escape this reality.

Mom and I needed to live, breathe, and exist as humans.

“Cecily? Here you are.”

The voice behind me made me look up reflexively.

The bundle of old clothes in my hands jostled, and a drop of dirty water splashed into my eye.

“Ah… ow, damn it…”

My eyes stung, tears pricking.

I wiped roughly with the back of my hand and turned.

There she stood—the face I’d trusted the longest in this world.

“Mom?”

“Yes. You were busy, huh? But this is worse.”

“What’s worse?”

“You’re crying, daughter. What are we going to do~”

Her playful tone was laced with concern.

I flinched slightly but immediately waved it off.

“I’m not crying. It’s just the water. Really.”

“Hmm~ but your eyes are pretty red.”

I forced a smile.

Worried she’d see my expression and feel worse than the eyes already showed.

Then, a rough, stiff hand wrapped around my neck.

The feel of someone with hands hardened from laundry work.

And that familiar scent—

Even if I pretended not to recognize it, my nose knew. Mom.

“Sorry… Cecily.”

The small words carried more than apology—they were layered with time.

Hearing that, something inside stirred warmly.

Honestly, even in my past life of over thirty years, I’d shed tears before, but not like this.

Still, I held it in.

If I cried now, the person who’d suffer most… was Mom.

“You’re overthinking. It really was just water.”

“Still, sorry is sorry.”

“When have I ever blamed you, Mom? I’m lucky to be your daughter.”

I smiled once, taking her hand.

Her hands were always thin and dry.

Yet they had raised me, fed me, brought me here.

I knew that.

Mom kept apologizing, but I always found it strange.

Why apologize to someone you’re grateful to?

Debt, uncertainty tomorrow—but today, holding this hand, it was… fine.

“Let’s go. You’ll catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Mom pulled me into a light embrace.

Warmth against my back.

For a moment, my body relaxed slightly.

I closed my eyes briefly.

It felt like… being a child again.