He continued his thoughts, hands tucked into the pockets of his robe.

“When spring comes, I’ll gather the servants to sweep and polish the manor. I’ll also fulfill my social duties. Once the snow melts, I’ll visit the parsonage and the tenant farmers. I’ll return to my work and attend church again. And to the nephews I invited to White Field…”

He stood abruptly. The headache, quiet for a while, surged back.

He had to tell his nephews that their teacher would not return. That was why he had invited the children to White Field.

A dreadful feeling washed over him. Ian was a strict uncle, but he had always taken care not to wound the children’s hearts when disciplining them. To him, his nephews were treasures he would protect with his life, though he would never admit it, even at knifepoint.

Yet, he was about to inflict upon these precious children the same pain he had endured—the wound of losing Master Sheldon.

He rubbed his face wearily. The more he dwelt on his thoughts, the more they yielded sighs or tears.

He turned back to the window.

Whenever his mind grew troubled, he gazed down at White Field. The landscape no longer stirred him as it once did, but it offered some small comfort.

Standing by the window, he traced White Field with his eyes. The forest where he had walked hand in hand with his sister in childhood. The forest’s edge where he had paced, waiting for his father’s late return. The meadow where he had sat side by side with Master Sheldon, sharing countless stories.

A world filled with precious, warm memories—Ian Dalton’s world.

“Protecting this place is my reason for living.”

He smiled wistfully.

“From now on, this place will be my solace. White Field holds memories. It will remind me of fleeting happiness as I grow old alone. Of the childhood when I had a family. When death draws near in the distant future, I’ll find a worthy successor within the family to inherit this place. Someone kind who will care for and protect it.”

Such thoughts made him feel not thirty-one, but sixty-one. The lethargy he felt seemed fitting for such an age, and he mocked himself for it.

Looking down at White Field, Ian recalled another memory. The time he had walked its paths with Laura. The cabin they had dashed into to escape the rain. The moment he had boasted of his apple tree and picked fresh fruit to offer her.

He would remember that summer and autumn at thirty for the rest of his life.

“Even if I didn’t win her love, she gave me so much. Friendship, time, and her heart… Someday, I’ll be able to think of her without pain. I’ll feel only gratitude for the memories she gave me. Someday.”

He smiled, his face pale, and slowly turned from White Field to return to the fireplace.

Then, something caught his eye.

At the forest’s edge, someone was crossing the quaint bridge over the stream. They were wrapped in a thick scarf, face and head covered, carrying a heavy bag and trudging clumsily.

He immediately recognized it was a woman, for beneath the cloak’s hem, he glimpsed a green checkered skirt.

“A servant sent on an errand?”

He felt pity for her.

“They should have sent a strong young male servant for such an errand. To make a female servant trudge through knee-deep snow…”

He clicked his tongue, watching the woman struggle across the bridge and up the field. Then, a fierce winter wind swept across the plain, so strong it bent the trees.

The wind tore the scarf from the woman’s head.

Under the sunlight, the hair hidden by the tattered scarf was revealed. It glowed like a radiant sunset.

That hue…

“Laura?”

It couldn’t be. Why would she appear here, in this remote, cold, and rugged countryside, with no business to bring her?

Yet his gaze clung to her, filled with a desperate wish to deny his doubt.

The woman continued trudging through the knee-deep snow, left uncleared by exhausted servants.

She paused briefly, setting down her load, hands on her knees, shoulders heaving as she caught her breath. But soon, she hoisted her bag and climbed the hill again.

Steadfast and resilient.

Her tireless steps were headed toward White Field Hall.

He could bear it no longer. He had to know who she was. He rushed from the room, racing down the corridor, leaping four or five steps at a time down the stairs. The servants cleaning the house screamed at the sight of their master, clad in pajamas and a robe, charging like a madman, but he heard nothing.

Laura might be coming. To him.

That was all that mattered to Ian. Even if the world ended now, it wouldn’t faze him in the slightest. The woman he loved might be braving the snow to reach him—what could compare to that?

He flung open the front door. True to a countryside where winter lingered lazily, the air was as cold as midwinter.

He ran through the garden in indoor slippers, soon kicking them off as they hindered his stride.

Beyond the partially cleared garden lay the snow-covered field. He shed his robe, stepping barefoot into the snow, pressing forward.

How far had he gone? At the foot of the hill’s slope, he glimpsed the woman he sought.

The closer he ran, and the more she trudged upward, the clearer her form became.

Sunset-red hair. A petite face. A slender, upright figure.

In her, he saw the key to the happiness he thought he had lost.

“Laura!”

The woman, laboriously dragging a trunk, froze in place. She looked up the snowy slope.

Gray eyes found him.

She stood still, like a snowman. He slid down the slope, his breath puffing out like a steam locomotive.

He stood before Laura.

She was a mess. Her hair was tangled, damp with sweat and snow. Her face was frozen, flushed with a rustic red. Her clothes were soaked from the hips down from wading through snow, the hem caked with mud, utterly wretched.

But to Ian’s eyes, even Cleopatra, sailing to Antony in a ship laden with treasures, could not compare to her.

He gazed at Laura, entranced, afraid he was seeing a vision. Perhaps it was a dream. He pinched his palm with his nail. It stung. At least it wasn’t a dream.

Then, Laura’s lips parted.

“Ian.”

His heart jolted. She had called him by his name alone.

“The coachman said the roads wouldn’t clear for another fortnight and offered to take me to a nearby inn. He tried five times to dissuade me from unloading my luggage. But I couldn’t wait. I had to see you as soon as possible.”

Laura’s voice was calm, imbued with a magic that soothed those who heard it.

Ian, lost in a daze, suddenly grew composed. He nodded with a serious expression.

Laura continued.

“Walking through the snow, I suddenly felt afraid. What if you no longer loved me after this long winter? What if, instead of being pleased, you were troubled by my reckless visit?”

She shook her head.

“It didn’t matter. Even if the heavens collapsed, I had to say this.”

Ian swallowed hard. Laura was his fate’s goddess. The words from her lips would decide his destiny.

She stepped closer, smiling with her characteristic grace, warmth, and gentleness.

“Ian, will you marry me?”

He was speechless, his body frozen.

Laura spoke again.

“Will you take me as your companion?”

She fell silent, waiting for his answer.

Ian’s body began to tremble. The sudden miracle flooded him with a drug-like euphoria.

She had proposed to him. She had braved the snow to become his companion.

Tears slowly streamed down his face.

He raised a hand to wipe them, but Laura was faster. She reached out, gently brushing his eyes.

“Laura…”

She smiled softly. “Yes?” she replied, so endearingly.

Unable to hold back, he wrapped his arms around her slender waist, pulling her close. Their bodies pressed together, leaving no space for even a needle. Their faces were less than a hand’s breadth apart.

Looking down at her, he whispered.

“I’ll give you all the love I have.”

His whisper was almost reverent.

“I’m yours forever. Take all of me.”

Laura’s hand, brushing his eyes, caressed his cheek. With an expression of utter peace, she whispered.

“Then kiss me.”

Without hesitation, Ian pressed his lips to hers. On the wide, windswept plain, where the cold lashed like a whip, the lovers felt a harmonious warmth no hearth could rival.

In the white world of White Field, Laura and Ian became each other’s key, unlocking the door to happiness. A moment of pure love, a beautiful marriage, and a lifetime of enduring joy began.

THE END