“An invitation from the Cromwell House?” Calla asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, my lady,” the head butler replied respectfully. “The invitation states that the Cromwell family will hold a formal dinner, and as the fiancée of Lord Ethan, you are invited to attend.”

Formal dinner meant rigid rules and strict expectations. Calla had already experienced these kinds of dinners every day with her own parents, but the thought of enduring one with the entire Cromwell family added another layer of pressure. She sighed, knowing she would have to put on the act of a perfect noblewoman once again.

It had been months since she had arrived in this world, and despite the overwhelming formalities, Calla had come to enjoy certain parts of her new life. Still, she couldn’t help but think about her old world—though it seemed further and further away with each passing day.

“Lord Ethan will come to pick you up this afternoon,” the butler added.

“Etha— I mean, my Lord?” Calla’s surprise was evident. Since the May Day festival, she hadn’t seen much of Ethan, and despite her reluctance to admit it, his absence had disappointed her. She had thought the festival had brought them closer, but now… she sighed again, wondering if she had misjudged their connection.

＊＊＊

A carriage from the Cromwell house arrived in front of the Mills House. As Calla descended the stairs, her eyes caught sight of Ethan, standing near the entrance, engaged in polite conversation with her parents. Her father wore his usual formal expression, nodding thoughtfully, while her mother smiled in that graceful way she always did, exchanging pleasantries as they discussed the upcoming dinner.

For a moment, Calla paused on the steps, taking in the scene. Ethan looked so at ease with her parents, as if the formalities were second nature to him. The distant nobleman she had come to know remained unchanged, and a small pang of disappointment tugged at her chest. Despite everything that had happened during the May Day festival, he still seemed like the Ethan who was difficult to reach.

Ethan, however, was more aware of her presence than he let on. The soft sound of her footsteps echoed against the marble stairs, and though his attention remained on her parents, he could feel the subtle shift in the air as Rosalie approached. Ever since May Day, there had been something different about her—something that intrigued him, even if he couldn’t fully understand it. He found himself stealing glances at her, catching brief moments when she seemed more at ease, unburdened by the noble facade she often wore.

But there was a distance between them, one he wasn’t sure how to close. His responsibilities, the expectations placed on him as the heir of the Cromwell family, weighed heavily on his every action. Yet, despite his best efforts to remain composed, there was a part of him that found it difficult to ignore the growing curiosity he had for her.

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As her shoes clicked against the marble stairs, Ethan’s gaze finally shifted from her parents to her, his eyes locking with hers. For a brief moment, something flickered in his expression—brief and almost imperceptible—before he quickly schooled his features back into their composed state. He bowed his head slightly in greeting as she approached.

“Good day, my Lady,” Ethan greeted her, his voice calm and measured.

“Good day, my Lord,” Calla replied, offering a polite nod in return.

For a moment, Ethan hesitated. He wondered if she, too, felt the distance between them, or if she had long accepted it as part of their roles. Either way, the unspoken tension between them lingered, fragile but ever-present.

Ethan then turned to her parents. “We shall depart now,” he said, his tone courteous. Then, with practiced ease, he gestured for Calla to place her hand on his arm, a silent invitation for her to join him.

＊＊＊

As they settled into the carriage, Calla let her noble facade slip, resting her elbow against the side of the window and looking outside. She knew that Ethan had already seen this unguarded side of her, so there was no need to keep up the pretense. She allowed herself to relax, taking a breather as they traveled toward the Cromwell estate.

For a few moments, silence filled the carriage. Calla glanced at Ethan and was startled to find him looking at her, his gaze steady and unwavering. She wasn’t sure how long he had been watching her, and the realization made her heart skip slightly. Surprised, she quickly looked away.

Clearing her throat softly, Calla broke the silence. “You’ve been busy, I take it,” she said, her voice casual but curious.

“Yes,” Ethan replied, his tone polite yet distant. “There have been matters that required my attention.”

There it was again—the formal, measured response. Calla pressed her lips together, fighting the frustration rising within her. She knew Ethan had responsibilities as the heir of the Cromwell family, but she had hoped for something more. Something personal.

“Matters more important than your fiancée?” she teased, her tone light but probing, hoping to break through his composed exterior.

Ethan blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her words. “That’s not what I meant,” he said, his voice softer now, but still guarded.

Calla leaned back against the carriage seat, crossing her arms in mock exasperation. “Well, it felt like that. I thought we had… a good understanding after the festival.”

“The responsibilities of my position… they demand much of my time,” Ethan responded, his tone still formal but tinged with something more genuine.

“And people,” Calla added, “can demand a little more of your time too.”

“You’re right,” Ethan admitted, his usual formality loosening just a little. “I have been… distant. But it’s not because I wanted to be.”

Calla was taken aback by his honesty. She studied him for a moment, trying to gauge his sincerity. “Then what is it?” she asked softly, leaning forward. “Why do you feel like you have to keep me at arm’s length?”

Ethan’s gaze flickered, but instead of answering directly, he deflected slightly. “My family… has high expectations of me. And of you.” His tone was measured and careful, as though he was trying to say more without fully explaining it.

“And are those expectations going to stop you from being yourself with me?” she asked, half-teasing but with genuine curiosity beneath the question.

For the first time, a smile tugged at the corner of Ethan’s lips. “Perhaps I’ll have to work on that,” he said, his voice barely above a murmur.

Calla’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of his brief smile.

For the first time since they entered the carriage, the air between them felt lighter.