One Day, My Fiancé Brought His First Love Along - Chapter 41

“Jeron?”

Standing by the training hall doors, Jeron greeted her with his usual calm demeanor—taller, more mature, and refined than before.

Aileen’s surprise was obvious in her voice. Jeron rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish smile, clearly not expecting her to be this startled.

Truthfully, he had debated the entire way over. Was it really okay to just show up unannounced? To ask her again—directly—to meet with him?

After being turned down once, the idea of retreating only seemed more terrifying. So he’d rushed in with the confidence of a man who had nothing left to lose. But in hindsight, that might’ve been foolish. Even now, he wasn’t sure where the courage had come from.

Still, the opportunity was his. And he’d decided he’d take it—because behind him was only a cliff, not a path.

Seeing her this flustered made him hesitate, just for a second. But he buried it beneath his practiced composure.

“I just finished up and thought of you, Aileen. So I came by. You’re just getting done?”

“Ah—yes.”

Still unable to fully hide her surprise, Aileen stumbled over her answer. And then she remembered—Carlisle was still behind her.

The door hadn’t opened all the way. From Jeron’s angle, Carlisle likely wasn’t in view yet.

She composed herself quickly. After all, she hadn’t seen Jeron since the banquet. And she did owe him thanks. This might be the only chance to express that properly.

Aileen smiled, gently but not too warmly—enough to show courtesy, nothing more. Unbeknownst to her, Carlisle could see it all.

“Thank you for coming all this way, Jeron. It must’ve been quite far from the Ministry of Finance.”

“Not at all. I actually enjoyed it. It’s my first time seeing the training hall in person.”

“Did you wait long?”

“I just got here.”

Aileen checked the time discreetly. Dinner was approaching.

It seemed like a good moment to return the favor for his help at the banquet—and to gently suggest not to come unannounced in the future.

When Jeron had asked to continue seeing her, she had agreed without thinking much of it. But she hadn’t expected him to express it like this.

She had never truly dated anyone besides Carlisle. He was her only point of reference.

Even their relationship had begun with her making the first move. Having someone show affection toward her first was unfamiliar—unsettling.

She had naively assumed gestures would be subtle—flowers, letters, maybe a formal request.

Not sudden, unannounced visits to her workplace.

“Then, would you—perhaps join me for dinner—”

“Aileen.”

Before her offer could even form, her name cut through the air, sharp and clear.

She turned.

Carlisle was looking at her, expression unreadable—but his usually calm eyes now carried a strange chill.

Her tone shifted instantly. What had moments before been gentle turned flat, cold—an invisible wall shooting up between them.

“Yes, Commander?”

“We’re not finished.”

There was no malice in his tone, only the certainty of someone stating fact. For a moment, even Aileen nearly believed it.

“I thought we were done. You didn’t say anything when the others left.”

They had even walked out together. For him to act like this now—it was uncharacteristic, and just a little bizarre.

Just as she began to turn back to Jeron—

“We need to go to my office.”

“…What?”

“Let’s go.”

He didn’t give her time to react. Carlisle stepped forward and reached above her shoulder, pressing the door open the rest of the way.

His presence loomed behind her. His black uniform brushed so close she could almost feel the heat radiating off him.

His arm hovered near her cheek—solid, immovable. With the air shifting around them, the familiar scent of lavender caught her breath.

For a second, it was as though she’d gone back in time—back to when he used to hold her from behind whenever she looked tired.

“Are you coming?”
His voice dropped low, almost a whisper against her hair.

That broke the spell.

He hadn’t even touched her, and yet the sheer weight of him standing so near was stifling—like he was silently pushing her out the door.

This had to stop. She had to get out of this mess of a moment.

“I’m sorry, Jeron. As you heard… apparently my work isn’t done yet.”

Aileen pulled herself completely away from Carlisle’s suffocating presence. Her eyes met Jeron’s—sincere, apologetic.

“……Was that truly a scheduled task?”

Jeron’s question was directed at Aileen, but his sharp eyes were fixed on Carlisle. Aileen, suppressing a flicker of discomfort, simply nodded.

“The end time varies. I’m sorry, Jeron. You came all the way out here for nothing.”

“…No, it’s fine. I should’ve known better than to show up unannounced.”

Even as he answered, Jeron’s cold gaze didn’t budge from Carlisle’s face.

Carlisle, unmoved, seemed wholly unaffected by the biting tension. He simply watched Aileen, her small figure bowing slightly as she apologized.

His disinterest read loud and clear: You’re not even worth my time.
A silent statement. Look at yourself—you’re just a speck trying to wedge into something you’ll never belong to.

But Jeron wasn’t foolish enough to let his emotions slip in front of Aileen. With effort, he raised the corners of his lips into a faint smile, drawing his expression into something polite.

Now wasn’t the time to argue.

“Then I’ll take my leave. Next time, I’ll be sure to confirm your schedule properly, Aileen.”

“No, really—thank you, but there’s no fixed time. As you can see, I’d hate to waste your time.”

“I just hope… you’re not saying that out of obligation.”

The words were veiled in humor, but the meaning was crystal clear. Aileen responded with a soft chuckle, dodging the weight of the emotion behind it.

Jeron’s lips tightened for just a second—then relaxed again into a practiced calm.

“I’ll see you again soon, Aileen.”

“Take care, Jeron.”

He seemed ready to kiss the back of her hand in farewell but settled instead for a courteous bow before turning away.

Only when even his shadow disappeared down the corridor did the two of them start walking again—Carlisle leading by two paces, Aileen trailing behind.

There was distance now. Deliberate, professional distance.

The path to the Sel Order’s Commander’s Office wasn’t far. She knew it well; not long ago, she used to visit it often. And yet, today, it felt utterly foreign.

“Sit.”

Once, her place had been the seat beside him—sometimes even his lap. That had been her spot.

“Could you tell me what this ‘urgent task’ is?”

Now, she sat across from him.

At Carlisle’s instruction, Aileen obediently took her seat, her gaze flat and unreadable.

In the faded purple of her eyes, all he could see was a desire to get this over with. The indifference stung, and Carlisle looked away.

Trickle.
Only the soft sound of tea being poured filled the heavy silence.

It was strange, seeing a superior serve tea himself. But no one dared comment. It was unfamiliar—but also, oddly, familiar.

“Drink.”

He set a cup in front of her, mirroring it with one for himself as he took the seat opposite her.

Aileen didn’t touch hers.

“Please give me the documents. I’d like to get this done quickly.”

“You have time for tea.”

“I’d rather not waste it.”

“It’s good for hydration and muscle recovery. I give this tea to every knight who comes into this room, so don’t feel singled out. Just drink it.”

His tone wasn’t forceful, but there was a weight behind it.

Aileen didn’t flinch. She simply met his gaze for several seconds, then lifted the cup and drained it in one go.

Despite being freshly poured, the tea was perfectly warm—not hot. He had anticipated this, clearly.

“I’ve finished. Now, if you could give me the assignment.”

Carlisle only took a sip of his own before answering—not her words, but the space between them.

She opened her mouth again, perhaps to protest, but gave up midway. Arguing with him was useless.

His tea break didn’t last much longer. When he was done, he rose, placed the cups back on the tray, and turned toward her.

“Sit over there and wait a moment.”

He nodded toward a desk in the corner—slightly smaller than his own. She recognized it immediately.

It was the same desk she used to occupy.

When he’d get swamped with paperwork and couldn’t return home on time, Aileen would come to him instead. Even before she knocked, the door would open—Carlisle, standing there in silence, waiting.

Just seeing him made her breath catch.

He never scolded her for coming. Instead, he’d gently pull her into the room, sometimes guiding her to the very seat she now occupied. Other times, she sat on his lap while he continued writing, calm and steady.

She used to love that.

When longing got the better of her, she’d come here. And instead of words, he answered her with warmth.

He never said it, but in those moments, his eyes had always spoken for him—apology, gratitude… and love, deep and heavy, like the sea before a storm.

Now, sitting at that desk again, it all felt so distant. So strangely out of place.

For a moment, her fingers froze as she watched him work.

A foolish what-if stirred deep within her chest—but she quickly shook it off.

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