Alexander returned to the estate three days later.

I went to see him, but he refused me at the door.

"Brother, why?" My voice trembled as I asked, but there was no answer from inside.

By the time the moon had risen high, I finally whispered, "I don't want this."

The words had barely left my lips when the door opened.

Alexander stepped out, his cold gaze meeting mine. "Why not?"

"Is it that you already have someone in your heart?"

My pulse skipped, my fingers tightening around the embroidered handkerchief. I stared back at him, unable to believe what I was hearing.

In the pale moonlight, I caught a fleeting glimpse of cold indifference in his eyes.

Suddenly, everything became clear.

"It's someone from our household, isn't it?" Alexander continued, his gaze fixed on me, refusing to let any of my expressions escape his notice.

He pressed on, "Someone who has been by your side, who treats you like family, am I right?"

He knew. He had always known.

My breath caught in my throat, the blood draining from my face.

Alexander moved closer, step by step until he was standing right in front of me.

Just like before, he bent down, gently wiping away the tears from my cheeks. His voice softened, "She doesn't want to go. You go in her place.

"Consider it repaying the kindness I've shown you. Would that be fair?"

I looked up, meeting Alexander's gaze. The once-clear, bright eyes I knew so well had darkened with shadows, unreadable and distant.

I knew then—I couldn't refuse him.

But the words wouldn't come. They stuck in my throat, tightening painfully, leaving me speechless.

"Alexander, how much longer will you stand out here with her?"

A woman's voice floated out from inside the room. It was a voice I knew all too well.

Princess Arabella.

The rightful bride.

There was nothing left for me to misunderstand.

Tears blurred my vision.

I took a step back, curtsied, and severed the last tie between us.

"I'll do whatever you ask, Brother."

In less than half a day, the entire city of Selucia was abuzz with the news.

Lord Shaw had long been enamored with Princess Arabella. When he learned that she was being forced into a marriage abroad, he made a bold decision—he pushed his younger sister, Lady Celeste, into taking her place.

"Lady Celeste was but a beggar once. If it weren't for Lord Shaw's charity, there wouldn't even be a Lady Celeste in the Shaw household."

"I hear she harbored feelings for her own brother. How shameless! No wonder Lord Shaw grew to despise her."

Nearly everyone applauded the turn of events, and the streets were filled with tales of Lord Shaw's undying devotion to Princess Arabella.

It was then, amidst the gossip, that memories long buried began to resurface.

Alexander had always been distant, reserved in both manner and emotion. It was rare for me to see him smile.

But everything changed when Princess Arabella entered his life.

I had only watched from afar, but the sight of them together stirred an unfamiliar bitterness in my chest, spreading through me like a slow, creeping ache.

"Alexander," Princess Arabella had once asked, her voice light and teasing, "everyone says Lady Celeste is one of the most accomplished women in Selucia City. Do you admire her too, like the others?"

Hearing this, I had stopped in my tracks, hidden just out of sight. I held my breath, waiting for his reply.

Alexander's answer came swiftly. "You must be joking, Your Highness. She's merely my sister.

"She could never compare to you, not in the slightest."

But Princess Arabella didn't stop there. "Tell me, Alexander, have you ever had feelings for her? Romantic feelings?"

My heart was pounding in my chest, each beat filled with anticipation and dread.

They said Princess Arabella was unorthodox, but I had always thought those were just rumors. Now, I wasn't so sure.

But before I could entertain any further thoughts, Alexander's cold words shattered the fleeting hope inside me, dousing it like cold water on a flame.

"Never," he said firmly, his voice sharp with disgust. "I would never stoop so low as to entertain such an improper notion."

At that moment, hiding behind the wall, it felt as though my heart had stopped.

My face burned with shame, as if I'd been slapped. The humiliation was unbearable.

I fled, stumbling over my own feet in my haste. I tripped and fell, my knees scraping against the rough stone, blood seeping through my skirts.

Later that night, Alexander came to my room.

I turned my back on him, refusing to face him, unwilling even to call him "brother."

The room was silent. Not a sound could be heard.

In the past, Alexander would have coaxed me with gentle words, but now, I could only think of his earlier words. The scene replayed in my mind, and tears flowed uncontrollably, soaking my pillow.

"Are you crying?"

His voice came from behind me, quiet and clear. It startled me.

I turned to look at him, surprised. "I thought you'd already left."

Alexander said nothing. He stepped forward, scooping me up effortlessly and placing me gently on the bed. He knelt beside me, lifting my skirt to inspect the wound on my knee.

His brows furrowed as he saw the swollen, bloody scrape.

"Why are you always so careless?"

I bit my lip, trying to hold back the tears. My voice trembled as I spoke, "This has nothing to do with you."

He didn't respond but continued to carefully clean my wound.

As he worked, I watched him, my gaze lingering on his face, lost in thought. I barely noticed my own staring.

"What are you looking at?"

Alexander cleared his throat awkwardly, catching my gaze with his own. His eyes flickered, betraying a brief moment of uncertainty.

Embarrassed, I quickly turned my head away, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

I was grateful for the cover of the night.

Alexander tilted his head, his tone shifting as he asked, "Why are you angry?"

It seemed he wasn't letting me off for ignoring him earlier.

I lowered my head, unwilling to answer.

If he discovered my true feelings for him, would he see me as shameless, disgusting even?

When I remained silent, Alexander leaned in, his presence pressing closer. I could feel his breath against my skin, the warmth of his body making me retreat further until I had no choice but to meet his gaze.

A tear slipped down my cheek.

Before I could react, the world darkened as Alexander's hand covered my eyes.

"Rest," he murmured softly, his voice dropping to a low, husky whisper near my ear.

There was something dangerous in his tone, something that sent a shiver down my spine.

From that day onward, I began to distance myself from Alexander.

But what I didn't realize was that my hidden feelings had already been laid bare for all to see.

My thoughts returned to the present, and before I knew it, Alexander was standing before me, looking down at me with his usual cold gaze.

I glanced up, accidentally locking eyes with him, and a shiver ran through me.

He spoke, his voice steady, "Prepare yourself. You'll be accompanying me to the autumn hunt in a few days."