The warm smile on Penelope’s lips instantly shifted to one of concern, her brow furrowing slightly.

Clearly, she had not anticipated Mirelda’s refusal to come with her.

"Is there an issue, Mirelda? Is something wrong?," she asked.

"No, not at all, My Lady."

Mirelda lifted her head with a soft, wistful light shining in her eyes.

"But... if I may be selfish this once, I would like to return to my hometown," she said softly. "I have not seen my family since I was brought in to work for the Viremont household. It’s been many years, but now that I have the chance to leave, I wish to see them again. I would also like to build a simple life for myself. Something honest. Something of my own."

She lowered her gaze once more, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her skirts.

"For as long as I can remember, my life has belonged to someone else. My time, my labor, my future– they were all decided for me. I do not regret serving you, My Lady. Never."

Her voice softened further.

"But I would like to know what it feels like to wake up each morning and make my own choices. Perhaps I might open up a small shop in town, or learn a trade from my uncle. Maybe I’ll grow a garden behind a little cottage and spend my days worrying about the weather."

A quiet laugh escaped her, knowing she sounded silly. "The truth is, I do not know yet what I wish to do. But for the first time in my life, I have the freedom to find out."

As deeply disheartened as Penelope was to part with her most loyal companion, she understood Mirelda’s yearning for freedom all too well.

For years, they had both lived under the shadow of the Viremont name.

Now that Mirelda had the chance to be free, she intended to seize it.

More than sadness, Penelope found herself feeling proud. Proud that Mirelda finally possessed both the courage and the means to pursue a future she was genuinely interested in.

"Then I shall help you return home," Penelope insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument. "I will arrange your transportation and ensure you have everything you need for the journey. And if you ever find yourself in need of anything afterward, do not hesitate to come to me."

"Your Ladyship is far too kind," Mirelda smiled gratefully, a tear threatening to spill over her lashes.

Despite the emotion welling within her,her heart felt lighter than it had in years.

Aside from the deep yearning to see her family again, there was another reason she could leave without regret. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Penelope no longer needed her protection.

The timid young lady she had once worried over had become someone strong enough to stand on her own. More importantly, she had found a place where she was cherished, respected and cared for. It seemed that led to the positive change she was seeing in Penelope.

Mirelda’s gaze drifted briefly to Vincent.

For years, she had wished for nothing more than to see her beloved mistress safe and happy. And now, having been lucky to witness who she was truly happy with with her own eyes, she could finally lay those worries to rest.

She could return home in peace.

Once Mirelda had bowed one final time and walked back toward the waiting transport carriage, Vincent stepped closer to Penelope, lowering his head slightly toward her.

"She would have stayed if you just refused her permission," he noted with genuine confusion in his voice, as though he could not quite understand why she had chosen to let such a loyal servant leave.

"I know," Penelope replied softly, watching the dust kick up around the carriage wheels. "But she deserves to live the life she chose for herself, free of servitude."

Then, she looked up at Vincent.

"Imagine if, someday, Elias suddenly decided to leave your service one day and pursue a different path. Wouldn’t you let him go if it made him happy?"

"No."

The answer came so quickly that Penelope nearly stumbled.

She stared at him, her jaw dropping slightly.

"Vincent."

"Elias knows far too many of my secrets, and quite frankly, finding another aide who can tolerate my temperament while organizing an entire imperial detachment is a luxury I cannot afford."

Vincent explained smoothly without the slightest hint of shame. He looked completely deadpan as he adjusted the heavy satchel resting against his shoulder. The satchel was a stark, boring contrast to his stylish outfit.

"If he someday attempts to retire to the countryside to grow potatoes," he added. "I will double his salary and deny the request."

Penelope could only stare at her husband.

"That’s horrible."

"It is practical."

"No, it’s horrible."

"It can be both."

A breathy, incredulous laugh escaped her before she could stop it.

As they finally made it to their carriage, she found herself shaking her head in disbelief. It was clear the two of them operated on entirely different principles.

Yet, looking at his entirely unbothered, stubborn profile, the lack of remorse on his face, she found she didn’t mind his ridiculous logic one bit.

She also noticed that Vincent could quite, literally, command Mirelda to stay, but despite not understanding her decision, he still chose to respect it.

As Vincent stepped forward and opened the carriage door for her, Penelope unexpectedly leaned toward him instead.

"For someone who presents such a serious face to the world," she murmured, amusement dancing in her brown eyes, "you truly are a rather silly man, My Lord."

Before Vincent could process the remark, Penelope rose onto her toes and pressed a swift, gentle kiss to his cheek.

His eyes widened in genuine, uncharacteristic shock. Then, as if she had not just thrown his entire composure into complete disarray, she gracefully climbed into the carriage.

The door clicked shut behind her, but Vincent remained frozen on the carriage step.

Did she just—

Slowly, almost mechanically, his gloved fingers rose. His fingertips brushed the exact spot where her lips had touched him, and the sensation lingered with startling clarity, refusing to fade.

His gray eyes narrowed slightly.

Did she just call him silly?

...Was that meant to be a compliment?

For perhaps the first time in recent memory, Vincent found himself confronted with a situation for which he had no response to. A sudden, unfamiliar warmth crept up the back of his neck, steadily dismantling the precision and discipline he prided himself on.

Behind him, several elite soldiers wisely pretended not to notice their commander’s conflicted predicament.

Vincent exhaled slowly.

This wife of his was dangerous.

Not because she was cunning, and not because she was unpredictable, but because she could reduce a man like him to complete confusion with just a single smile and a kiss on the cheek.

At this rate, she might truly drive him mad one day.