Secret Outing

The halls of Gwendolyn's five-story mansion glowed with the golden hue of evening crystal lamps, illuminating the luxurious estate where numerous pavilion buildings surrounded the grand residence.

On the third floor, just outside Eleanor's chamber, her maids waited anxiously, their hands clasped as they exchanged glances. As soon as the door opened and Alger Gwendolyn stepped out with his subordinate, Ralph, the maids bowed respectfully before scurrying into the room.

Some busied themselves arranging fresh pillows to support Eleanor's injured body, while others prepared warm bandages to replace the ones wrapped around her head.

Eleanor Gwendolyn, the delicate flower of the House Gwendolyn, had to be tended to with utmost care.

Meanwhile, Alger led Ralph toward his study, a room located on the same floor but at a respectable distance from Eleanor's. The heavy silence lingered between them until Ralph, hesitant yet compelled, finally spoke.

"Thank God Lady Eleanor seems... healthy," Ralph muttered, though the words felt odd. His mind flashed back to the young lady's pale face, and the thick bandages around her small head.

Alger took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as if he had been holding something back the entire time he was with his sister. He didn't respond immediately, instead flipping through the medical reports from the three renowned physicians who had examined Eleanor over the past week. His sharp gaze darkened as he read the detailed observations.

"I suspected there might be lingering effects from the head injury," Ralph said, watching his master closely. "But I didn't expect them to be that obvious."

Alger's fingers stilled over the parchment.

He understood what Ralph was implying. Eleanor had never been the kind of person to express vulnerability so openly, let alone ask for help.

The Eleanor Gwendolyn they had always known was reserved, and distant-someone who concealed herself behind impeccable etiquette. Yet today, she had shown emotions that were too raw, too exposed.

Alger turned his gaze toward Ralph. "Re-examine John Burbom. This time, I want stricter surveillance. But don't make him suspicious."

Ralph nodded, his brows furrowing slightly. "So, you think there's something off about him too?"

The word too lingered between them.

Eleanor had been the first to express unease about her fiancé, John Burbom, despite having no concrete reason for suspicion. But now Alger, the most rational of the Gwendolyns, was echoing the same concern.

Alger nodded. "You know how sharp our family's intuition is. And besides..." His gaze darkened. "I trust my little sister."

Ralph barely managed to hold back a snort.

Do you trust your little sister's intuition? The same sister who just suffered a severe head injury?

Who knew, maybe a screw had come loose, and she was just throwing around accusations in her concussed state.

But Ralph valued his life too much to say that out loud. Instead, he simply bowed and took his leave.

He had no desire to get caught in the middle of the Gwendolyn family's dinner, a warm gathering that felt like an unshakable fortress of pine trees.

***

Sunlight filtered through the large windows of Eleanor's room, casting a soft glow over the dimly lit space. Though the heavy windows remained tightly shut, the heavy curtains had been drawn open, allowing the refracted light to brighten the air of quiet elegance.

She lounged on a chaise, her posture utterly lazy, one arm draped over her stomach while the other supported her head, still wrapped in a ridiculous bandage. Her ginger hair, usually neat, was a tangled mess from a lack of combing, not that she cared.

Tina, her ever-diligent maid, busied herself nearby, adjusting the pillows that propped Eleanor's back and hips. She draped a shawl over Eleanor's shoulders with excessive care, as if the slightest breeze might shatter her.

Outside, the morning had fully blossomed, yet Eleanor found herself scowling internally.

Eleanor sighed, casting a glance toward the window.

Sneaking out today is going to be impossible at this rate.

It wasn't just Tina. Her entire room had practically turned into a beehive of young maids eager to attend to her every whim. Even though the knights stationed outside her door had been removed after Alger Gwendolyn, her second eldest brother, returned home, it only meant that now her 'guard' had transformed into a more subtle form: her second older brother's suffocating and surveillance concern.

The Marquess and Marchioness, believing Alger to be an ever-reliable guardian, seemed to think he alone could keep their daughter from recklessly wandering off and finally relaxed their vigilance.

Eleanor sighed again, this time longer, tilting her head back in thought.

Her fingers idly traced the edge of her shawl as she brooded. She couldn't possibly sneak out of the estate alone, not with all these watchful eyes on her. If she wanted to escape unnoticed, she needed someone's help.

But who?

"My lady?" Tina's voice, tinged with concern, broke the silence. She had stopped combing Eleanor's hair, the brush hovering hesitantly over her shoulder. "Is something troubling you?"

Eleanor blinked. She had been so lost in her scheming that she hadn't noticed Tina's sharp gaze monitoring her every move.

Before she could answer, Tina straightened, suddenly flustered. "I-I apologize! I overstepped-please, forget I asked!"

Eleanor stared at her calmly.

Tina truly is a gem, isn't she?

A smart, capable maid who knew when to step back, when to speak, and when to hold her tongue. She was the perfect candidate for what Eleanor had in mind.

If there was anyone she could trust to smuggle her out of Gwendolyn's residence, it was her.

A slow smile spread across Eleanor's lips.

Without warning, she grabbed Tina's hands, soft but slightly rough from years of service, and held them tightly, though her own grip was weak. Her crimson eyes shimmered with a deliberate plea.

"Tina," she murmured, her voice soft, vulnerable.

Tina froze. "M-My lady?"

Eleanor lifted her crimson eyes to meet Tina's with the most pitiful expression she could muster.

"Tina," she murmured, her voice soft, wounded. "Will you help this poor, fragile, suffering young lady in her time of need?"

"...!!"

Tina's breath hitched.

She completely unprepared for such an attack, faltered. She had never seen her lady act so helpless before, so delicate, so in need of protection.

Eleanor didn't need to fake the paleness of her face or the exhaustion in her limbs, it was real enough, but adding a sorrowful gaze and a slight tremble to her fingers sealed the deal. People were naturally inclined to protect things that were beautiful and weak, and Eleanor was, unfortunately, both.

Tina's resolve crumbled in an instant. "I-Of course! I would never refuse you, My lady!"

A victorious smile spread across her lips, though her pale complexion made it look faintly tragic.

Perfect.

***

Thanks to Tina's quick thinking, Eleanor had managed to slip out of the mansion undetected. Not only had Tina skillfully navigated her through the large estate's labyrinth of servants and watchful eyes, but she had also arranged a plain wooden carriage to wait discreetly at the side gate.

As Eleanor climbed in, she resisted the absurd urge to kiss Tina's cheek in gratitude.

I've truly chosen the best accomplice.

Now she sat in the rickety wooden carriage, shifting uncomfortably on the hard seat. It was nothing like the lavish, cushioned carriage she had ridden with the Marquess when he picked her up from the academy. This one jolted with every bump in the road, and despite her best efforts, Eleanor let out a tiny groan.

Tina, who had been fussing over her even at the last moment, had practically begged her to reconsider using a better carriage.

"My lady, I could arrange for one of the Gwendolyns' carriages! The cushions–your injury–" she had sniffled dramatically as if the very thought of Eleanor suffering in discomfort was too much to bear.

Eleanor had barely managed to stop her.

Taking an official Gwendolyn carriage would be like announcing my secret outing to the entire city. I might as well send an invitation to Alger to come and drag me back himself.

Still, she couldn't help but chuckle at the memory. Tina had even threatened the poor coachman, warning him to drive carefully or else suffer a mysterious fate.

I'll have to reward her later.

Leaning back against the carriage wall, she let out a breath of relief.

Finally.

She was outside.

The city of Selene stretched ahead, its bustling streets and towering buildings still some distance away.

Even though she remained within Gwendolyn's vast territory, this was the closest she had ever been to stepping beyond her family's protective grasp.

A wave of excitement ran through her.

Finally. I can see it for myself.

As the carriage rolled smoothly along the outskirts of Selene, Eleanor peeked through the small window.

The city, a small part of the world her little brother created, lay before her, waiting to be explored.

Eleanor glanced at the heavy black cloak resting beside her, the same one Tina had prepared to help her blend in.

Eleanor reached for it, pulling it over her shoulders before unceremoniously ripping off the bandages from her head. Her injury had mostly healed. There was no need to keep up the act when no one was watching. Her ginger hair, freed from the wrappings, tumbled messily down her chest.

"No need for this anymore," she murmured.

She ran her fingers through the strands, smoothing them down.

As far as I recall, there's no other character in this world with orange hair. Just like how the heroine is the only one with green hair.

Eleanor smirked to herself, wrapping the black robe tightly around her, concealing her striking appearance.

Time to blend in.

A knock on the carriage's side made her jolt. "My lady, we've arrived," the coachman announced.

She inhaled deeply.

Her destination? The lower district. More specifically, a business run by a certain John Burbom.

Eleanor's eyes darkened.

Let's see just how deeply you've fallen into greed and whether there's still a chance to save you.