To the One Who's Only Cold to Me - Chapter 48

“If we’re not careful, we’re going to get soaked.”

The sky was heavy and dim, as if it would start raining at any moment. The coachman, bothered by the gloomy sky and lack of sunlight, kept glancing upward while urging the horse forward.

As the speed increased, the carriage shook more roughly than usual. But Ian, sitting inside, didn’t move an inch. He sat upright, his blue eyes sharp and unwavering.

‘…This should finally settle everything.’

After leaving the Duke of Levantus’ mansion, Ian kept repeating a single name over and over in his mind. Wilkins… He was the man Ian had spent the last two years searching for. The former coachman of the Marquis of Lloyd’s estate and the only witness to his parents’ deaths.

• Coachman Wilkins was last seen at the residence of Count Parden. His whereabouts have been unknown since.

According to the investigator’s report, Wilkins had visited Count Parden’s estate after the incident and then disappeared. The only witness had gone missing. There had been a lot of rumors at the time, but for some reason, everything quickly died down.

• Further investigation required. (Investigation halted by order.)

Ian clenched his teeth as he remembered the scribbled line at the end of the report stating the investigation couldn’t continue.

Graham Parden.

There was already enough evidence to be sure. Ian had long decided who the culprit was. Still, he needed solid proof that Graham Parden’s tears at his parents’ funeral had been fake.

“Ian, no matter what happens, I promise to protect you and your sister.”

“…Uncle.”

“I swore to your father. At the very least, I’ll protect you both…”

The memory of his parents’ funeral flashed before his eyes. Ian frowned at the image of Graham Parden crying in front of him. He clenched his fists, but then loosened them unconsciously when the face of a girl followed in his mind.

“Damn it.”

Ian cursed, shaking his blond hair roughly, realizing his hands had gone weak. But the girl’s face from that day changed into a woman’s, lying on a bed—and she followed him even in his thoughts.

Ian.

The image wouldn’t leave him. Now he even heard her voice in his head. Her heated voice made Ian’s face flush, and he clenched his teeth. As soon as he heard Wilkins’ testimony, he would bring down the Pardens. Especially Aisha Parden, who had humiliated him by stirring up such filthy desires—he would ruin her completely, and the moment he grew tired of her, toss her aside like trash.

Ian, please don’t do this… please…

The thought of Aisha crying pitifully after being abandoned slowly calmed his fury. Ian smirked, imagining her clinging to his sleeve, but snapped out of it when someone knocked on the door.

The carriage had stopped. When Ian opened the window, the coachman peeked up at him nervously. Hiding his expression, Ian pushed the carriage door open.

But just as he was about to step out, a raindrop fell, followed by a slow drizzle.

“Oh no, sir! It’s raining. Please wait a moment, I’ll bring something to cover you.”

The coachman fussed, looking up at the sky. But Ian shook his head and waved him off, stepping aside for him to move.

“Sir!”

Ian ignored the rain and climbed halfway up the steps when James came running with an umbrella. The older man’s forehead was dripping with sweat, likely from hurrying.

Ian slowed his steps slightly under the umbrella. He pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his wet face and gave James a questioning look, asking silently if anything had happened while he was gone. James opened his mouth as if he’d been waiting.

“A guest has arrived.”

There weren’t many people James would let into the mansion in Ian’s absence. Maybe Aisha? Usually, James politely turned away uninvited visitors.

But the guest didn’t seem to be Aisha. Ian gave James a look, urging him to speak quickly. James glanced around, swallowed, and spoke in a low voice.

“They’re from the Imperial Palace.”

A white carriage moved slowly along the outskirts of the capital. Even the horse pulling it was a pale gray, almost white. The carriage, crossing a path filled with wildflowers, looked like something out of a fairytale.

Knock, knock.

While the carriage rolled on, a signal came from the wall behind the coachman.

“Whoa, whoa.”

The coachman, guiding the horse calmly, understood the signal and pulled over to the roadside. Soon, there was a clicking sound as the door opened, and an elderly lady stepped out, followed by a girl who looked about fifteen or sixteen.

“Wow! This is the capital of the Empire?”

The girl with dark brown hair clapped and looked at the old lady. Her face was full of excitement, and the elderly woman gave a gentle smile and nodded.

“Yes, this is the Imperial capital, Ranafranda. In the old language, it means ‘heaven.’ See the rooftops over there? That’s the Imperial Palace.”

The girl blinked her brown eyes and stared at the palace roofs. But only for a moment. Her attention quickly turned to the wildflowers growing along the roadside.

“Madam, I’ll pick some flowers for you!”

The girl ran happily, her dress fluttering. The old lady’s face briefly showed sadness, but when the girl looked back, she smiled again as if nothing happened.

“Just a moment. They smell so nice!”

“Alright. Be careful not to trip, Leah.”

“Yes!”

The girl hummed a tune, stretching out her hand cheerfully. The old lady watched her small back for a moment, then bit her lip softly and turned her head.

The road where the carriage had stopped was at the edge of a tall hill. In the distance, rooftops of the Imperial Palace and grand homes of the capital came into view. Her gaze moved right from the palace until she found a mansion with a beautiful blue roof. Her lips tightened.

This time, for sure…

Determination filled the old lady’s face. She even clenched her hand like a warrior ready for battle.

“Madam!”

The girl came back, calling from nearby. The old lady turned back again with a gentle smile.

“Here. It smells nice, but isn’t the color beautiful too?”

The flower was light purple, with long stamens and five small petals blooming from one stem—delicate and lovely.

“I didn’t think I’d find a Purus flower here!”

The girl proudly held out the flower. But the old lady’s smile faded slightly when she saw it.

“That’s a Pallas flower. It looks a lot like the Purus flower, but… see here? The color in the middle is different.”

“Oh? You’re right! But still… it’s just as pretty.”

“Yes, it’s beautiful like the Purus. But unlike the healing Purus, the Pallas has poison in its stem.”

“What?”

Startled, the girl dropped the flower. Her wide eyes were filled with fear.

“Oh dear, I must have scared you. Don’t worry—it’s not very poisonous unless specially prepared.”

The old lady quickly tried to calm her. Her voice was warm and reassuring. The girl finally nodded, though she still looked nervously at the flower on the ground.

“Let’s go now. If we wait any longer, we’ll arrive after dark.”

The old lady took the girl’s arm. The girl nodded and helped her back to the carriage.

“Hyah!”

As soon as they got in, the coachman set off again. The light purple flower was left behind, trampled by dirt and dust.

Golden-brown hair shimmered under the afternoon sun. Ian lay lazily on a soft bed, stroking the silky strands as he soaked in the peaceful moment.

He liked Aisha best when she was asleep like this, eyes tightly shut. When awake, she annoyed and frustrated him. But sleeping, with her soft breathing and peaceful face, she gave him an odd sense of comfort, like an imagined sanctuary. That’s why Ian often got up first and spent time just watching her sleep after they were intimate.

But today’s rest didn’t last long. Aisha stirred, mumbling something in a low voice.

…She’s about to wake up.

Noticing the signs, Ian stopped stroking her hair. He got up without hesitation.

At first, he used to stay until she woke—or at least wait in the bedroom. But not anymore. That changed quickly.

“Ian, um…”

“What? Do you want to say something?”

“…No. Never mind.”

He knew she was disappointed when she woke up alone. But that was exactly why he left on purpose.

Catering to useless whining will only make her more spoiled.

Looking out the window at the setting sun, Ian straightened his clothes. Unlike Aisha, who was still in her nightgown, he had already gotten dressed earlier.

He smoothed his wrinkled shirt, tightened his cravat, and now looked nothing like someone who’d just been in bed. He glanced at the full-length mirror beside the bed, then turned toward the door.

But just as he took a step, something weak pulled at him.

Ian turned around, surprised. Aisha was awake, half-opening her eyes and looking at him.

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