It had been a long time since the snow stopped. A thin layer of cold light pooled by the window in the second-floor hallway of the mansion, and Cedric stood within it, looking down at the garden below.

His business was already finished. He only needed to call for the carriage, but he stopped in his tracks when he heard a steady tapping sound from outside.

It was Guest.

Golden hair moved slowly over the gravel path. The steps, supported by an ebony cane, were slow, and the shoulders tilted slightly with every step. When Guest, standing before the winter roses, looked up, the red eyes deepened as they caught the light. Still beautiful. That fact had never been so unpleasant.

Cedric pressed his hand against the glass. The face that he could never reach now stood there as if nothing had happened.

The moment Guest slipped on the gravel and stumbled, his body moved forward first.

It was nothing. Guest quickly regained balance. Only then did Cedric exhale and grit his teeth.

...How foolish.