12.

“The noble Princess of Ardin bearing the lowly name of Ingel—how laughable,” Riad said.

Henesstia thought she had misheard him.

Her lips trembled slightly with anxiety as she processed his words, then tightly closed her eyes.

“…It’s not lowly. Calling your own family that is even more ridiculous,” she replied.

The wind, which had felt harsh moments ago, now seemed gentler.

Henesstia was about to feel a fleeting sense of joy at being acknowledged as “Henesstia Ingel.” Her sense of purpose—her need to follow Heron’s command and get closer to Riad—nearly slipped away in that moment.

Perhaps it was because, for so long, she had been neither fully Ardin nor Ingel, hidden away in the corner of the castle.

It wasn’t just about the family name.

Henesstia had never truly been Henesstia anywhere. In the Baron’s household, she had been nothing more than an expensive broodmare—no better than the horse she was riding now.

And yet, of all people, the one who acknowledged her as “Henesstia Ingel” was the very man she had to destroy. The irony stung deeply.

“I’ll take your advice to heart,” Riad said.

Henesstia remained silent, feeling a mix of emotions. As Riad’s hand pressed against the back of her head, she adjusted his coat, pulling it down to cover herself better.

Her hairpiece must have caught on his coat, because her carefully pinned hair unraveled, spilling down in the breeze like waves.

For the first time, Henesstia could see clearly.

The view from the horse was breathtaking.

What had seemed terrifying at first was no longer so frightening. She found herself wanting to lean forward and take in more of the distant landscape.

As she leaned slightly, Riad quickly tightened his hold on her, pulling her back to her seat. Without a word, he pointed toward the village ahead.

“The elite knights are waiting for us in that village.”

“A village?” she echoed.

“They’ve prepared a carriage and other provisions, so even if the journey is long, we’ll lack for nothing.”

Contrary to Henesstia’s earlier fears of having to endure a grueling ten-day ride on horseback, it seemed everything had been properly arranged.

The village in the distance looked like a tiny toy set against the horizon, framed by lush tree branches that swayed as if they could be touched with a simple reach.

The musty scent of grass, which had once felt oppressive, now gave way to the delicate fragrance of flowers. The mountain was adorned with a mosaic of blooms, each contributing its own vibrant scent to the air.

Henesstia’s heart raced.

The scene before her was unlike anything she had ever seen.

She felt a sense of relief.

For the first time, her chaotic thoughts seemed to settle, and for a brief moment, it felt like the burdens weighing her down had lifted.

Somehow, it didn’t feel all that bad.

* * *

By the time the sun began to set, they arrived at the village.

Riad scanned the village before directing his horse toward a group of horses gathered nearby. Henesstia, still cradled in his arms, took in the sights of the ordinary village for the first time.

The villagers stared at them with curiosity, and as the horse moved, everyday scenes passed by like fleeting glimpses.

Riad brought the horse to a stop near the stable and quickly dismounted. Left sitting alone on the horse, Henesstia nearly let out a scream but managed to hold it in, instead gripping the saddle tightly and lowering herself cautiously. Despite having spent half the day riding, she still didn’t feel confident enough to handle the horse on her own, especially with its fierce eyes.

Riad, already on the ground, extended his hand toward her.

His gesture, despite being the son of the Ingel baron couple, was shockingly refined and perfectly formal, with no flaw in his etiquette.

“Take my hand,” he said.

“…….”

“Even if you lose your balance and fall, I’ll catch you, so don’t worry,” he reassured her. Though it seemed like a prompt, it didn’t come across as threatening. Henesstia stared at his outstretched hand for a moment.

The large, gloved hand hovered right in front of her.

Slowly, she reached out her own hand.

“We’ll greet the commanders right after. Will you be alright?”

Her hand froze in midair.

The elite knights were here, which meant the commanders who had returned with Riad were present as well. As the future lady of the Count’s house, she was expected to meet them and exchange formal greetings, along with pledges of loyalty.

Knightly vows were reserved for specific occasions, so for now, it would likely be a simple introduction.

‘I have to do it,’ she thought.

Her heart beat out of sync with her thoughts. Like it or not, she knew she had to meet and greet them—it was the proper thing to do. Now that Riad had acknowledged her as “Ingel,” she had to present herself with the grace expected of that name.

Taking a deep breath, Henesstia grasped his hand.

“Count…! You’ve arrived!”

A booming voice echoed like thunder, filled with the excitement of someone discovering a new world. The shout startled her so much that she almost lost her balance.

In that split second, her weight shifted, and her dress began to slide off the saddle.

Time seemed to stretch out, each second feeling like an eternity.

Fear gripped her heart as she braced for the pain of hitting the ground, squeezing her eyes shut.

But the pain never came.

Instead, she felt the familiar scent of his coat and the firm grip of hands catching her mid-fall.

“……!”

When she opened her eyes, she found herself cradled in Riad’s arms.

His golden eyes gleamed, so close that she could see her reflection in them. His grip was strong and steady, holding her securely.

“…I did say I’d catch you, but I didn’t expect to have to actually do it,” he muttered.

“P-please… put me down.”

Henesstia stammered, pressing her hands against his shoulders and trying to pull herself away. But his arms, holding her waist and legs, only tightened their grip.

“Your shoe fell off.”

“Oh…”

The beige shoe had fallen to the ground at some point, rolling away. It dawned on Henesstia that she could have easily been the one sprawled out on the ground instead.

“You’re going to fall at this rate.”

Riad remarked, exhaling in a way that could have been either a scoff or a sigh as she stiffened, leaning her upper body back awkwardly.

Then, as if teasing her, he abruptly removed the hand that had been supporting her.

“Ahh…”

As she had been leaning so far back, her body, which had been precariously held up by his hand, now teetered dangerously. But, of course, the expected fall never happened. Riad swiftly caught her, pulling her back into his arms, preventing her from toppling over.

She ended up with her face pressed against his shoulder.

“Didn’t I warn you that you’d fall?” he said in a lighter tone, a hint of amusement in his voice.

With a small chuckle, he adjusted his grip, holding her more securely now. He nodded toward the knight who had spoken earlier.

“Bring her shoe over.”

“Y-Yes! Right away, sir!”

Embarrassed, Henesstia couldn’t lift her head. The realization that she was being held like this in front of a stranger, someone she hadn’t even exchanged pleasantries with, made her face burn.

“Please, put me down.”

he whispered, lowering her voice in the hope that the knight nearby wouldn’t overhear.

She felt a shift in Riad’s throat, a subtle movement, as his neck flexed. Since her face was buried against his neck, she could feel every small movement of his body—the muscles of his arm beneath her as he held her.

‘Too close… this is way too close…’

She thought, flustered.

Moreover, she kept feeling something brushing against her leg, but when she glanced down, all she could see was Riad’s thigh.

Squirming in his arms, Henesstia tried to shift herself, uncomfortable not so much because of her position but because of the situation. Sensing her movement, Riad sighed softly and held her even tighter, preventing her from moving.

The strength of his grip wasn’t painful, but just enough to feel confining.

“If the lady has a hobby of walking barefoot in the dirt, I won’t stop you. But if not, stay still.”

He whispered in response to her small voice, his breath brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck, making it tickle. His breath was unnervingly warm.

“Count, here’s the shoe.”

The knight said, approaching them.

Riad shifted Henesstia again, almost as if she were a doll, adjusting her position with one arm so that she leaned against him as he bent down to put the shoe back on her foot.

Caught off guard by the sudden change in position, Henesstia’s gaze unintentionally locked with the knight who had retrieved her shoe.

“……”

“……”

The knight’s expression was difficult to read, but there was no mistaking the mixture of emotions in his eyes—confusion, distrust, and a faint sense of distaste.

Although he quickly averted his gaze, Henesstia had seen enough to understand. She had become all too familiar with that look—the disgust mingled with wariness that she had often encountered since entering the Baron’s household.

It felt as though her heart was plummeting into a bottomless pit.

*What… what should I do?’

Before she could collect her thoughts, a loud bang shattered the air.