Chapter 23
Ah!
As I turned my head at the urgent cry, I saw the raised hooves of a frantic horse coming straight toward me.
Suppressing a scream that threatened to burst out, I squeezed my eyes shut.
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Gabriel’s heart—once untouched—was now overwhelmed by a storm of emotion so fierce that he could hardly contain it. He was desperate to swallow it all back down.
This tidal wave of feeling shattered his self-control, leaving him thinking about her all day long.
To a degree that even shocked himself, Gabriel had become utterly obsessed.
Whether it was in the middle of a battle with arrows raining down like a monsoon, or during a covert mission to assassinate an enemy commander—she was always on his mind.
Even when a sword slashed his side, or when he spotted blooming wildflowers on the road back, weary and bloodied…
He thought of Hildea.
“Who did she meet today?”
“Did she think of me at all?”
“Did she receive the potted plant?”
For every letter he managed to send, he threw away many more—agonizing over what to say.
He wanted to send her the finest things money could buy, but worried she’d think he was being pushy or overbearing.
So he chose everything with care, thinking only of what Hildea might like.
“Lord, do you really have to go that far?”
“Say that again, and I’ll show you what happens next.”
“Ha… seriously, my life…”
Even the time he personally picked herbs from the edge of a shadowed cliff where they barely grew—the look in his knights’ eyes was that of people watching a madman.
‘Just once.’
He buried his face in his hands with a sigh.
‘Just once would be enough.’
He wanted to hear his name from Hildea’s lips. He wanted to confess—wanted to ask her:
‘Please call me Bree.’
He didn’t want to be just another passerby in her life. He wanted to matter to her.
Gabriel wasn’t oblivious. He had eyes and ears—he knew the empire’s capital was buzzing with rumors, calling him a war hero.
He also knew rumors were spreading that his engagement talks with the daughters of House Hillington were breaking down.
He scoffed.
‘What utter nonsense.’
If he could find out who started the rumors, he’d wring their necks himself.
‘Should I just kill them all?’
He’d heard that the rumors had emboldened a new wave of scumbags to unofficially propose marriage—especially to Hildea.
His teeth clenched at the thought.
‘Why don’t they go after Rosériel instead? Why my Hildea?’
Despite the lofty title of “war hero,” there was only one thing he cared about:
Did Hildea hear about it too? Did they make her like him, even just a little? Or did she think it was all childish nonsense?
And when he felt most overwhelmed by this flood of feelings, his shame vanished—and he told everything to his adjutant, Dian.
At first, Dian was amused. Then came the look—like a man being slowly strangled, pleading for mercy.
“Enough. Please, my lord. Stop.”
No one could figure out why, but Gabriel was not the type to keep quiet just because someone told him to.
The one who gave up first was Dian.
“You’re really insane now. Where has the proud Duke Belkius gone…?”
“You’re the one who told me to embrace emotion. Don’t act all high and mighty now.”
“Not like this! This isn’t what I meant! How is this my fault?!”
To be fair, even Gabriel had to admit it—his loyal adjutant was right.
He was completely consumed by his emotions.
When he heard about the upcoming debutante ball, he couldn’t sit still. He killed, killed, and killed again.
And then—he won.
‘Can I go back now?’
Even the Emperor had voiced concern that Gabriel was moving too fast.
But Gabriel had been blind to everything except his goal.
The moment he planted his banner in victory, he let go of every ounce of reason. The leash snapped.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“Pardon?”
“I can’t hold back any longer.”
Seeing Hildea only through drawings wasn’t enough. He had to see her, speak to her directly.
And to say: “I’ve returned.”
“Y-you said what, my lord? I must’ve misheard you…”
Ignoring Dian’s panicked expression, Gabriel brushed off his hands.
The victorious banner fluttered to the ground like trash. His knights scrambled to catch it.
Watching them, Gabriel spoke coldly.
“I’ll go ahead. You all can follow.”
Dian trembled, lips twitching.
“Did you just say—did I hear that correctly—?”
“Have you taken care of what I told you to?”
“If you mean the mansion, I’ve already sent someone to handle it, but why are you bringing that up now—”
“Once we arrive, gather there. I won’t be returning to the estate.”
“M-my looord!”
Dian’s voice rang out like a scream behind him.
But Gabriel was already galloping away on horseback, laughter spilling from his lips like madness.
This godforsaken battlefield—
It was finally over.
Now, he was free.
“I’m coming, Hildea.”
And so, without food, without sleep, he rode like a madman straight back to the Empire.
He didn’t stop to report to the Emperor or even greet him.
He headed straight for the mansion—ignoring the stunned expressions of the staff, offering no explanation.
In his mind, only one name echoed:
“Hil.”
The only question left was: how would he approach the House of Hillington?
‘What if she hates it like last time…?’
That worried him.
After much deliberation, Gabriel came to a conclusion: If nothing else, I should at least look presentable.
He wanted—no, needed—to appear impressive and dashing to Hildea. So, while rushing toward a tailor shop recommended by one of his attendants to get a custom suit—
“Neiiigh!!”
“Ahh!”
A ruckus rang out nearby. Something urgent.
He turned toward the commotion and saw a rearing, panicked horse—and a woman standing right in front of it.
In that instant, time seemed to freeze.
Through the fallen hood, dazzling silver hair cascaded down and pierced Gabriel’s vision.
Thud.
His heart screamed.
No way he wouldn’t recognize her.
His Hil.
It all flashed by in an instant, like her life was playing before her eyes—just like those “life flashing before your eyes” clichés.
‘Gasp!’
But before she could even brace herself, a strong, solid arm wrapped tightly around her waist.
At the same time, her body was pulled forcefully to the side.
“Huh…?”
When she came to her senses, she was lying on the ground, leaning into someone’s broad chest.
“Haa… haa…”
Blinking in confusion, she quickly realized—someone was underneath her. And their bodies were… very close.
‘Say thank you. Thank him.’
She scrambled to get up—but the moment she lifted herself, her eyes met his.
“…..”
“…..”
For several seconds, her mind just… stopped working.
All she could do was feel. And those feelings stood on edge, sharp as needles.
The muscles under her palms were firm, well-trained—electric, almost. Her fingers tingled.
Her vision spun—disheveled platinum-blond hair like liquid sunlight and sharp, honey-golden strands.
His eyes lifted toward her, narrowed just slightly, the sunlight making his gaze nearly dazzling.
But what turned her to ice wasn’t the handsome face or the embarrassment of being so close.
Ah.
Vivid purple eyes.
‘I know those eyes. I remember them.’
He had changed. But there was no way another person in the world had eyes like those.
Thump, thump.
Her heart pounded. Whether it was hers or his, she couldn’t tell—but it was loud. So loud.
“Are you hurt?”
His voice rumbled like an echo from a deep cave.
The boy from 12 years ago had returned—now a fully grown man. And with a lower, richer voice than ever, he asked the same thing again.
“Are you alright?”
“……”
She didn’t reply right away. Was it just her imagination, or did he look a little flustered?
“That damn hor—er, I mean…”
His cautious eyes weren’t cold and distant like they used to be.
“Are you injured?”
Was she just seeing what she wanted to see?
That thought hit her like a pinprick, snapping her fully back to reality.
“N-no, I’m not hurt.”
She quickly pulled away.
Like a splash of cold water, she remembered who she was—and who he was.
Her younger sister’s fiancé.
“…It’s been a while, my lady.”
Gabriel.
He stood first and reached a hand out to her.
He helped her up smoothly, with practiced grace and not a hint of impropriety.
“Y-yes, it has. It’s been a while.”
Trying to compose herself, she cleared her throat—her voice had cracked from the shock.
It was just… surprise. Nothing more.
She dipped her head in a graceful, well-practiced gesture.
“Thank you for saving me, Duke Belkius.”
You. Gabriel.
You’re back.
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After that lightning-strike of a reunion…
She couldn’t even remember how she managed to get away from him.
All that mattered was getting into the carriage and back home.
As soon as she came to her senses, she began rambling uncontrollably.
“Meeting like this… it’s not proper. Thank you again for today. But next time, let’s meet properly at the estate. Goodbye.”
“…Wa—”
Without giving him a chance to reply, she climbed into the carriage.
“Drive!”
She thought Gabriel had said something, but she’d already tipped the coachman extra to ride as fast as possible—only then could she begin to think clearly.
Her heart was racing. Reality hit her all at once.
“Haha… It really was Gabriel.”
She laughed, almost disbelieving.
What even was that?
‘How could I run into him that easily? The capital’s huge… And he saved me?’
The imagined boy—the one she had exchanged letters with—seemed to vanish like he’d never existed.
All that remained in her mind was the man she had just met.
‘Yeah. He’s definitely the male lead. Damn, he’s handsome…’
If men were animals, he was something like a lion of the jungle.
‘Nope.’
She shook her head, hard.
‘It had to have been a ghostwriter. That man couldn’t possibly have written those letters, so open and heartfelt.’
Just thinking about it made her flush with embarrassment. As if she’d been the only one banging the drum, putting too much meaning into it all.
