I stepped out of the hospital with my head bowed, trying to conceal the unease that would not stop gnawing at me.
I knew my own body better than anyone else could.
My condition was not as dire as Fabian feared.
Yet the man had insisted on dragging me to the hospital, as though he would allow no room for refusal.
Truly mortifying.
I could not begin to guess how many people had witnessed a Grand Duke leading a strange woman by the hand, his face etched with worry.
If word of this had already spread, I was certain the rumor that I was the Grand Duke's woman would now race through the city like fire through a parched field.
Only after the physician confirmed I was well did Fabian release his grip on my hand.
The moment we reached the hospital courtyard, he halted his steps.
I stopped as well.
His expression remained as composed as ever, nearly flawless. It was difficult to read anything from the man's face, as though every emotion he possessed lay carefully hidden beneath that unshakable calm.
I had to admit, he was handsome.
Far more handsome, in truth, than most men I had ever encountered.
If I were to rank them, Fabian would stand third.
Second place still belonged to Ian.
First, without question, was Ryan.
He had inherited nearly all of Mother's beauty. His face was better suited to the word lovely than handsome, a fact that never failed to irritate him whenever he heard it.
My thoughts scattered the moment Fabian's gaze returned to me. This time, the calm on his face had cracked, if only slightly.
There was guilt in it.
Or perhaps worry.
Before I could make sense of the change, he took both my hands in his. His fingers wrapped around mine with surprising gentleness.
Warm.
But this position was thoroughly awkward, and once again, more than enough to invite misunderstandings I had no wish to entertain.
"Lady Charlotte."
"Your Grace... please, let go of my hands."
My voice shrank to little more than a whisper.
I tried to draw my hands back slowly. It did not work.
The man did not so much as flinch.
Stubborn beyond reason.
Was this truly his nature?
A man so accustomed to imposing his will that he gave others no chance to refuse him?
I exhaled slowly.
"Please understand, Your Grace. People are watching us. You are placing me in a most difficult position."
As though only now realizing it, Fabian released my hands at once. Something shifted in his eyes, whether from noticing the stares around us, or from having simply been too absorbed in his own concern from the start.
"Forgive me, my lady. My worry clouded my judgment, and I acted without seeking your consent."
"That is enough."
"I truly am sorry."
Without thinking, I seized his arm and pulled him away with hurried steps.
Blast it all.
A Grand Duke, apologizing in the middle of a crowd?
The man had clearly lost all sense.
If he wished to apologize, he ought to have chosen a place free of prying ears.
Now it was I who stood in the most difficult position of all.
His apology had just now shattered any chance of explaining the situation reasonably. Several people nearby had pressed their hands to their mouths, as though they could scarcely believe the word sorry had actually left Fabian's lips.
I could already imagine how this tale would grow. No longer merely a rumor that I was close to the Grand Duke, but a far more dangerous question altogether.
Who exactly is that woman?
If I denied it before the public, his dignity as Grand Duke might suffer for it. But if I let it stand, people might truly come to believe we shared something extraordinary between us.
Worse still, a story might emerge that a foreign woman had spurned the Grand Duke. Or the reverse, that Fabian had willingly lowered himself to keep the woman he loved.
Such was the terrifying weight of a great noble's influence. One small act was enough to birth a hundred different tales.
My eyes swept the surroundings, searching for a way out.
Thankfully, not far from the hospital stood a tea house.
Without another thought, I seized Fabian's arm once more and walked briskly toward the building.
Only one purpose filled my mind.
To hide.
But only a few steps later did it strike me.
I was holding the Grand Duke's arm.
I let go at once, quickening my pace while lowering my head, pretending nothing at all had happened.
At the door, a maid greeted me with a warm smile.
The greeting poised on her lips faltered the instant her gaze shifted to the man behind me.
Recognizing who followed me, she bowed at once, her face turning noticeably pale.
I asked for a private room without wasting another moment.
The maid led us upstairs.
The instant the door shut behind us, a long breath finally escaped my chest.
We sat facing one another.
Silence settled over the room.
Then came the sound of quiet laughter.
Fabian pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, as though the whole of my panic just moments ago had proven far too amusing for him to contain.
***
Charlotte fixed Fabian with a sharp stare.
Her tone remained flat, yet a thread of irritation slipped through every word regardless.
"What is so amusing, Your Grace?"
Fabian cleared his throat softly, trying to hide the smile still lingering at the corner of his mouth.
"Nothing."
"Then why are you laughing?"
"I merely recalled something amusing."
Charlotte narrowed her eyes.
"Do not tell me it concerns me."
Fabian raised a single brow.
"Perhaps."
"Your Grace..."
"Yes, Lady Charlotte?"
"You did that on purpose, did you not? Cornering me in front of everyone."
Fabian did not answer at once.
Silence filled the room.
On purpose?
Yes.
The woman was not mistaken.
And yet even he could not explain why all of it had felt so natural to do.
Since the very first moment he had laid eyes on Charlotte at the teleportation tower, his attention had remained fixed upon the pink-haired woman. Even as Hans delivered his urgent report, his thoughts kept drifting back, again and again, to the figure he had met only moments before.
It was not mere curiosity.
There existed a pull he could not quite put into words, as though someone long lost had finally returned to stand before him.
That pink hair, for reasons he could not name, always stirred within him a longing with no origin at all.
Their second meeting made the feeling harder still to ignore. Whenever he found himself near Charlotte, the urge to see that she was well rose in him unbidden.
When her face had flushed red, his body had moved faster than his thoughts could follow. His hand had reached out, touched her forehead, and carried her off to the hospital without giving her any chance to refuse.
Everything simply happened, as though it were exactly what he was meant to do.
That was why, when others regarded them as a pair of lovers, Fabian had felt no discomfort at all. If anything, he found himself reluctant to correct the misunderstanding.
Have I met you before?
Why does everything feel so familiar whenever I am at your side?
Why do I keep yearning for someone I cannot even remember?
Fabian watched Charlotte without blinking.
Charlotte, do you feel it too?
The question stalled at the tip of his tongue. He chose to let it remain unspoken.
Charlotte's grip on his hand moments ago had been nothing more than a reflex born of panic. Even so, the warmth that had briefly settled in his palm left behind an impression he could not easily explain.
"Your Grace."
Charlotte's voice scattered his thoughts.
Fabian lifted his gaze.
"What is it?"
"You still have not answered my question."
Fabian studied her in silence.
Before he could offer a reply, a soft knock sounded at the door of the private room.
A maid entered, carrying two menu books in her hands. She bowed respectfully to Fabian, then cast a brief glance toward Charlotte.
Her expression flickered with confusion for the briefest moment. But being a professional, she quickly smoothed it away.
"Forgive the intrusion upon your time with your lady, Your Grace."
"Proceed."
"Yes, Your Grace."
The maid set both menu books upon the table.
Fabian took one, opened it briefly, then set it back down.
His gaze shifted to Charlotte.
Waiting.
Understanding the meaning behind that look, Charlotte opened her menu and chose a few dishes.
Only once she had finished did Fabian name his own order.
The maid noted everything down, bowed once more, and left the room.
The door shut firmly behind her.
Silence claimed the room once again.
***
I tried to keep my expression composed.
Yet the maid's words kept turning over and over in my head.
Forgive the intrusion upon your time with your lady.
Your lady.
Those two words kept echoing, filling my mind without mercy.
My heart beat a little faster.
Fabian was still watching me.
The calm in his eyes only made the workings of his mind harder still to read. He let the silence settle between us, as though waiting for me to be the one who broke first.
I wanted to know.
What exactly did he want from me?
Since our reunion, he had placed me in one impossible situation after another. Leading me by the arm in public, addressing me with a noblewoman's title, and now apologizing loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear.
Every single thing only deepened the misunderstanding further.
Just as I was about to speak, Fabian spoke first.
"I wish to come to know Lady Charlotte more closely."
For a moment I could only stare at him.
I do not wish to know you.
The words nearly slipped from my lips, but I swallowed them back down. Whatever else he was, the man before me was a Grand Duke. Wounding his pride so openly would only breed new troubles.
I drew a slow breath.
"If that is truly your wish, then why go about it this way, Your Grace? I am no noblewoman, yet you insist on calling me 'Lady.' Not to mention your actions inviting misunderstanding before the public. Would that not bring you harm in time to come?"
"I do not mind it."
The answer came without a trace of hesitation.
"And what of me, then?"
"Hm."
"I hope you would also consider my future."
"Consider it?"
"Yes."
The corner of Fabian's mouth lifted, ever so slightly.
That smile alone was enough to raise the hair on the back of my neck. Not from fear, but from a sense that whatever he said next would leave me with even less room to move.
"Charlotte Wieser."
"That is correct, Your Grace."
"The Handler family are kin through your mother's line."
"Correct."
"While you remain in the capital, your guardian is Adela Handler."
"That is also correct."
My chest tightened without warning.
Something was wrong here.
Why was he speaking my full name? And more troubling still, why had he suddenly brought up Aunt Adela's name?
Fabian rose from his chair.
He stepped closer, stopping just beside me.
I had no time to react before he bent slightly, his lips drawing near my ear.
"Tomorrow, I shall call upon the Handler mansion."
I turned to him at once.
"What?"
"I will come tomorrow."
"No. You must not come."
Fabian regarded me without blinking.
"My decision is already final."
"You cannot make such a decision alone without any regard for my opinion, Your Grace."
He fell silent for a moment. Then the smile returned.
"Oh? And why should I have to consider it?"
I found myself without words.
"Who are you to me, Lady Charlotte?"
My heart seemed to stop beating altogether. The words struck deeper than they should have, and I could not understand why.
"We share no bond of any kind that would require me to seek your consent before making a decision."
"That is..."
I could not argue, for he was right.
I was nothing to him.
There existed no bond that gave me any claim over the movements of a Grand Duke.
And yet that was precisely where the trouble lay.
If Fabian truly went to the Handler mansion after all the rumors that had already spread this very day, that small spark would grow into a blaze impossible to smother.
I truly wanted to curse at him.
This stubborn, impossible man gave no thought whatsoever to the consequences of his own actions.
Or perhaps that was exactly what he wanted.
While my mind churned through every possibility, Fabian returned to his seat.
He sat down calmly, crossed his legs, and looked at me as though he had not just said something capable of unraveling my entire life.