Ilyin opened her eyes, her mind alert. She looked around the room, taking in the colorful mobile swaying on the wall ornament behind Lord Arlen’s chair.
“Who is this person that the Duke speaks so highly of?”
The voice belonged to Lord Arlen, who was sitting at his desk with a scowl on his face.
“He said that the woman was the North Distribution Manager of the Acid Guild,” said Aden, who was standing next to Ilyin.
Ilyin gasped. She knew that was her. She had been posing as the North Distribution Manager, El, in order to gather information on Lord Arlen.
“I should have somehow lifted the black veil,” Lord Arlen muttered.
“Easy,” Aden said, putting his arm around Ilyin.
Ilyin looked up at Aden and smiled. She was grateful for his support.
“Master,” said a knight who had been standing in the corner of the room. “I think I saw the woman’s side face.”
Ilyin flinched. She looked at the knight, who was looking at her with a puzzled expression.
“At the time, I couldn’t guess, but those gorgeous silver hairs…” the knight said.
“It was silver?” Lord Arlen asked, looking surprised.
“Yes,” the knight said. “The deputy North Distribution Manager said that he was the Duke of Biflten and the woman named ‘El’ is also silver-haired. And there is no one in the Biflten family who can serve as the head of the family. Then, if the Duke of Biflten didn’t have any strange hobbies…”
Lord Arlen’s eyes widened. “That ‘El’ was Ilyin?”
He twisted his lips in anger. “Insolent.”
He remembered the letter she had sent as ‘El’, and he slammed his fist on the desk. The pen in his hand snapped, and the red ink spilled over, leaving a mark on the wood grain.
Ilyin looked at Lord Arlen with a mixture of fear and satisfaction. She had finally gotten to him.
****
“…We might receive a message from Milo,” Ilyin said softly.
It was morning, and it felt as if she had merely blinked her eyes before finding herself in the soft glow of dawn. Ilyin delicately covered her weary eyes with her hand, feeling Aden’s gentle touch as he bestowed a fleeting kiss on them.
“Milo could prove to be troublesome,” he mused under his breath.
Darn, it…
No, even before that. There was a chance that a letter would arrive, bearing the weight of threats and intimidation. Ilyin released a short sigh, contemplating the possibilities.
Although it seemed unlikely, she resolved never to meet her father alone. No, perhaps it was better to avoid any encounters altogether.
Memories flooded back to her— the image of his firm grip shattering the fountain pen, and the scarlet ink staining the surface of the desk. It was a haunting scene, one that left an indelible mark on her mind.
“…”
Her hand reached out, illuminating the room with the soft glow of a bedside lamp. In the luminous space, Aden’s face emerged, his eyes slowly opening to greet the morning light.
He still appeared fatigued. Ilyin planted kisses upon his cheeks, cradling them gently within her hands.
“May I ask you for a favor?” she inquired.
“Of course,” came his immediate reply. Ilyin pressed her face against his chest, seeking solace in his embrace.
“You can be a little more daring,” she murmured.
“You can allow yourself to become a bit more flawed,” she continued.
“Please don’t tread upon the gravel path with your tender feet.”
Yes, there was no need for further hesitation. She realized that she, too, could embrace her own imperfections.
“I believe a letter may arrive from your father, or rather, from him,” Ilyin confessed, grasping his garments momentarily before releasing her hold. As she pressed her ear against his chest, she heard the steady rhythm of a vigorous heartbeat.
His heartbeat— a sound upon which she could rely
“If such a letter should come, please burn it without hesitation.”
It was permissible to relinquish her own innocence. No, it was not a descent into darkness. Irene’s lips curled into a mischievous smile.
****
Dannet Viscount’s residence was located a short distance from the Delrose Estate, where the sun shone brightly. Although Ilyin could alleviate her fatigue thanks to the comfortable carriage, the distance still seemed unyielding.
“If you turn back, it will be afternoon. Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Ilyin asked with concern. Aden, who had joined her in the carriage to escort her to the Dannet Viscount’s luncheon, naturally answered her question.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll come back around the time the luncheon ends,” he smiled.
“I happen to have some matters to attend to near the Dannet estate,” he added.
One of the potential sites for the newly acquired southern outpost by Delrose was near the Dannet estate. Since a grand mansion wasn’t necessary for the information gathering they required—no, rather, a grand mansion would attract unnecessary attention—they planned to explore the potential sites and build a small house instead.
Of course, Aden didn’t need to go there personally. However, using the excuse of escorting Ilyin into the luncheon provided a convenient pretext. The carriage, which had departed late in the morning, arrived at the Dannet estate as the sun reached its zenith.
Aden opened the carriage door and alighted first before extending his hand to Irene.
“Are you really not too busy?” she asked, her voice filled with concern. Aden responded in a confident tone.
“If I’m too busy to protect you, then I have no desire to be busy at all.”
He spoke as if he had come from a battlefield, exuding an air of strength. Ilyin couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. Nonetheless, she was glad to have him by her side. Aden’s sensitive ears caught snippets of conversations among the attendants of the surrounding nobles.
“Isn’t he… the Duke of Biflten?”
“Why would someone bring him all the way here? How can a man attend the luncheon?”
Aden’s gaze turned in their direction. It was a voice that pierced through even at its barely audible volume, but with his acute hearing, there was no way he could have missed it. Moreover, they were in the midst of escorting Irene. He had to be even more vigilant about his surroundings than usual.
Aden briefly glanced in their direction before averting his gaze. There was no prohibition against men attending the luncheon. Furthermore, it wasn’t a disadvantage for him to be present as an escort.
Even though luncheons in the Empire were traditionally exclusive gatherings for women, known as “Gold Banquets” or secret social events among women, they were not limited to the banquet room alone.
“By the way, Den shouldn’t enter the luncheon room,” Ilyin whispered softly. Aden smiled softly.
Ilyin opened her eyes, her mind alert. She looked around the room, taking in the colorful mobile swaying on the wall ornament behind Lord Arlen’s chair.
“Who is this person that the Duke speaks so highly of?”
The voice belonged to Lord Arlen, who was sitting at his desk with a scowl on his face.
“He said that the woman was the North Distribution Manager of the Acid Guild,” said Aden, who was standing next to Ilyin.
Ilyin gasped. She knew that was her. She had been posing as the North Distribution Manager, El, in order to gather information on Lord Arlen.
“I should have somehow lifted the black veil,” Lord Arlen muttered.
“Easy,” Aden said, putting his arm around Ilyin.
Ilyin looked up at Aden and smiled. She was grateful for his support.
“Master,” said a knight who had been standing in the corner of the room. “I think I saw the woman’s side face.”
Ilyin flinched. She looked at the knight, who was looking at her with a puzzled expression.
“At the time, I couldn’t guess, but those gorgeous silver hairs…” the knight said.
“It was silver?” Lord Arlen asked, looking surprised.
“Yes,” the knight said. “The deputy North Distribution Manager said that he was the Duke of Biflten and the woman named ‘El’ is also silver-haired. And there is no one in the Biflten family who can serve as the head of the family. Then, if the Duke of Biflten didn’t have any strange hobbies…”
Lord Arlen’s eyes widened. “That ‘El’ was Ilyin?”
He twisted his lips in anger. “Insolent.”
He remembered the letter she had sent as ‘El’, and he slammed his fist on the desk. The pen in his hand snapped, and the red ink spilled over, leaving a mark on the wood grain.
Ilyin looked at Lord Arlen with a mixture of fear and satisfaction. She had finally gotten to him.
****
“…We might receive a message from Milo,” Ilyin said softly.
It was morning, and it felt as if she had merely blinked her eyes before finding herself in the soft glow of dawn. Ilyin delicately covered her weary eyes with her hand, feeling Aden’s gentle touch as he bestowed a fleeting kiss on them.
“Milo could prove to be troublesome,” he mused under his breath.
Darn, it…
No, even before that. There was a chance that a letter would arrive, bearing the weight of threats and intimidation. Ilyin released a short sigh, contemplating the possibilities.
Although it seemed unlikely, she resolved never to meet her father alone. No, perhaps it was better to avoid any encounters altogether.
Memories flooded back to her— the image of his firm grip shattering the fountain pen, and the scarlet ink staining the surface of the desk. It was a haunting scene, one that left an indelible mark on her mind.
“…”
Her hand reached out, illuminating the room with the soft glow of a bedside lamp. In the luminous space, Aden’s face emerged, his eyes slowly opening to greet the morning light.
He still appeared fatigued. Ilyin planted kisses upon his cheeks, cradling them gently within her hands.
“May I ask you for a favor?” she inquired.
“Of course,” came his immediate reply. Ilyin pressed her face against his chest, seeking solace in his embrace.
“You can be a little more daring,” she murmured.
“You can allow yourself to become a bit more flawed,” she continued.
“Please don’t tread upon the gravel path with your tender feet.”
Yes, there was no need for further hesitation. She realized that she, too, could embrace her own imperfections.
“I believe a letter may arrive from your father, or rather, from him,” Ilyin confessed, grasping his garments momentarily before releasing her hold. As she pressed her ear against his chest, she heard the steady rhythm of a vigorous heartbeat.
His heartbeat— a sound upon which she could rely
“If such a letter should come, please burn it without hesitation.”
It was permissible to relinquish her own innocence. No, it was not a descent into darkness. Irene’s lips curled into a mischievous smile.
****
Dannet Viscount’s residence was located a short distance from the Delrose Estate, where the sun shone brightly. Although Ilyin could alleviate her fatigue thanks to the comfortable carriage, the distance still seemed unyielding.
“If you turn back, it will be afternoon. Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Ilyin asked with concern. Aden, who had joined her in the carriage to escort her to the Dannet Viscount’s luncheon, naturally answered her question.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll come back around the time the luncheon ends,” he smiled.
“I happen to have some matters to attend to near the Dannet estate,” he added.
One of the potential sites for the newly acquired southern outpost by Delrose was near the Dannet estate. Since a grand mansion wasn’t necessary for the information gathering they required—no, rather, a grand mansion would attract unnecessary attention—they planned to explore the potential sites and build a small house instead.
Of course, Aden didn’t need to go there personally. However, using the excuse of escorting Ilyin into the luncheon provided a convenient pretext. The carriage, which had departed late in the morning, arrived at the Dannet estate as the sun reached its zenith.
Aden opened the carriage door and alighted first before extending his hand to Irene.
“Are you really not too busy?” she asked, her voice filled with concern. Aden responded in a confident tone.
“If I’m too busy to protect you, then I have no desire to be busy at all.”
He spoke as if he had come from a battlefield, exuding an air of strength. Ilyin couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. Nonetheless, she was glad to have him by her side. Aden’s sensitive ears caught snippets of conversations among the attendants of the surrounding nobles.
“Isn’t he… the Duke of Biflten?”
“Why would someone bring him all the way here? How can a man attend the luncheon?”
Aden’s gaze turned in their direction. It was a voice that pierced through even at its barely audible volume, but with his acute hearing, there was no way he could have missed it. Moreover, they were in the midst of escorting Irene. He had to be even more vigilant about his surroundings than usual.
Aden briefly glanced in their direction before averting his gaze. There was no prohibition against men attending the luncheon. Furthermore, it wasn’t a disadvantage for him to be present as an escort.
Even though luncheons in the Empire were traditionally exclusive gatherings for women, known as “Gold Banquets” or secret social events among women, they were not limited to the banquet room alone.
“By the way, Den shouldn’t enter the luncheon room,” Ilyin whispered softly. Aden smiled softly.
