“The designers’ movements don’t look good.”

It was news that clashed with the beautiful midday scenery: things weren’t going well at Huttl Shipyard, the heart of Norwood. Allie Foster’s voice, spreading through the bright sunlight, carried a grave note. But Saena didn’t so much as flinch.

Seated on the terrace, enjoying the gentle breeze, her face looked as calm as ever. Leaning back in her chair, Saena slowly closed her eyes.

It was a day no different from any other. Her secretary visited at one in the afternoon, like clockwork. Coffee cooled just right by the wind. The unchanging chorus of cicadas and even the state of the shipyard—all of it felt familiar.

Nothing was new. It had already been more than three months since a handful of designers began meeting with the Dwyer family. And yet, today, that familiar fact felt oddly irritating—like a fishbone stuck in her throat. The thought almost made her laugh.

It was probably because of the Empress’s attitude. Lately, the Empress had been openly trying to “tidy up” both this engagement and Nowood itself. One only had to look at the moves of her brother, Simon, to see it.

By aggressively acquiring small shipyards and merging them, he was rapidly expanding his influence. Courting Huttl’s top designers—the best in the industry—was surely part of that plan.

Which meant Simon needed large ships. Massive vessels capable of carrying more passengers and cargo—state-of-the-art money makers, packed with the latest technology.

Thanks to the Empress’s prodding, it seemed he’d suddenly taken an interest in ships and the sea, things he’d never spared a glance for his entire life.

A faint sneer curved Saena’s lips. She let out a soft chuckle, then murmured slowly.

“Designers, huh.”

Her dry gaze drifted over the garden, accompanied by a slow nod—an unspoken signal to continue. Watching her carefully, Ellie spoke again.

“He’s offered five times their current pay. I expect there will be… repercussions.”

“My, how generous.”

Saena laughed as if amused by Simon Dwyer’s extravagance, then paused.

“Now then—what was the name of Simon’s shipyard again?”

“Drott.”

“Ah. Drott.”

She smiled as if the name had only just come back to her, her eyes still resting on the rose-filled garden.

“And the invitation? What should we do about it?”

Ellie hesitated before asking. The invitation to Drott’s celebratory party announcing its new beginning included a polite inquiry about Saena’s availability—along with Simon’s personal request that she attend and grace the occasion.

Saena slowly moved her hand. Slender fingers tapped against the tabletop.

Tap. Tap.

Slow and repetitive, the sound blended into the summer air.

“Give it to me.”

She spoke softly, finally turning her gaze toward Ellie. Saena studied the invitation placed in her hand. The gold card gleamed under the sunlight, reminding her of the summer sea—blue at first glance, yet shimmering gold when the light hit it just right.

A breathtaking memory surfaced: the sea glowing like molten gold… and Rhaion smiling as he looked at her.

She couldn’t give that up. He would smile like that again.

Saena casually tossed the invitation onto the table.

“I’ll attend. Make the preparations.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“And tomorrow, gather the designers. Tell them we’re offering ten times more.”

A chill slipped into her voice as her fingers stilled.

“My lady, perhaps it would be wise to reconsider—”

Ellie’s face had gone pale as she tried to stop her. It was the first time she’d ever done so. Saena tilted her head, briefly puzzled—then cut her off without hesitation. Her eyes sharpened, cold and merciless.

“No. Deliver the message immediately. Make it crystal clear that both design and technology belong to Nowood.”

“…Yes.”

Ellie hesitated, but said no more. That, after all, was her role.

As the tapping resumed—

“The Empress won’t be able to lay a finger on it.”

Saena’s voice settled gently, like a falling feather.

“Neither my place… nor Nowood.”

Her tone was as smooth as cream, but her gaze was sharp as ice. She looked back at Ellie.

“Investigate the Grand Duke. Anything will do—especially things that could be used against him.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“And see if any vacancies open up at his estate.”

She was referring to the servants. Saena was certain that Kyle’s ability to live so quietly was due to his strict control over information. He wouldn’t hire or dismiss staff lightly—but there was always the unexpected.

And to her, Kyle himself was a major variable.

Saena’s expression turned cold at the thought, prompting Ellie to respond quickly.

“I’ll also contact the servants’ registry.”

“Good. You may go.”

As Ellie’s footsteps faded down the corridor—sounding almost like a dance tune—Saena once more looked down at the golden invitation. A bright smile bloomed across her face.

***

The moment news about Maude reached Lemming, Lowell boarded a train without delay. He’d gone without sleep all night, yet showed no sign of fatigue. Only rage burned in his eyes. The sight of his sister’s battered face had been enough to make him reach for a gun.

“I’ll kill them all.”

The instant he opened the case, Cleve sprang to his feet, his face drained of color. Perhaps because he knew all too well that his son would carry out whatever he set his mind to.

“If you don’t want to see your sister running out barefoot to stop you, you’d better calm down. I understand how you feel—but still.”

“……”

Mentioning Maude made Lowell hesitate. Seizing the moment, Cleve swiftly snatched the gun away. Only after the hunting rifle disappeared beyond the door in the butler’s hands did he finally breathe out in relief.

Reading the room, Lowell reluctantly sat back down.

His ears, flushed from boiling anger, refused to cool. Casting a glance at them, Cleve spoke carefully.

“The Grand Duke already left him half-dead. I don’t see the need for you to add to it.”

“Excuse me?”

Thinking of Foil’s pitiful state, Cleve shook his head.

“It’s true. They say he’ll limp for the rest of his life. And you know Maude would’ve stopped him—worried it might cause trouble for the Grand Duke. If it weren’t for her, that bastard would be a corpse on the Great Hall floor by now.”

“The Grand Duke… did all that?”

Lowell’s brow furrowed in shock as Kyle was mentioned. That was when Cleve finally explained everything.

Foil, Rupert, and Mildred had kidnapped Maude. To separate her from Sarah, they’d even slashed Sarah’s forehead. Sarah had lost consciousness, then gone straight to the Grand Duke the moment she came to, to report what had happened.

Even recounting it sent chills down Cleve’s spine; he rubbed his arms repeatedly.

“Sarah really did something remarkable. She’s a smart girl.”

He added that Lowell should say something kind to her when he saw her.

“I will.”

“And be sure to greet the Grand Duke too. He stops by every day.”

That made Lowell flinch again. He’d assumed as much while Maude was still recovering—but learning that Kyle had visited the estate daily for over three days was unexpected.

He heard he’s always busy…

After a brief pause, Lowell asked carefully,

“Y-Yes. Is the Grand Duke… all right?”

“Not even a scratch. He’s not the sort of man who’d leave an opening for scum like that.”

“…I see.”

Cleve nodded as he drained his now-cold coffee. His gaze narrowed thoughtfully as he considered Kyle. Truth be told, there was no better match for a husband—looks, height, ability, all impeccable. The best of the best.

And there was one more thing Cleve rated highly: Kyle’s spotless record with women.

“They say he’s never involved himself in that sort of thing, anywhere. Even though every port is crawling with men who keep lovers on the side. Incredible, really. Apparently, Maude was the one who went to see him first—he was so startled he rushed outside. Well, who wouldn’t be? She showed up out of the blue.”

“Why do you keep bringing up how she went first?! That was back then. Now His Grace is clearly more invested! Didn’t you see his expression earlier? Honestly…”

Recalling his conversation with the private investigator, Cleve scowled. He’d pretended not to care about a potential son-in-law, yet he’d already looked into everything—going so far as to personally hire a detective famed for digging up dirt.

Just then, Lowell rose, saying he’d go check on Maude again. His face was clouded with thought.

Watching his son, Cleve spoke.

“I know no one will ever truly satisfy you as Maude’s partner. I won’t force you. But at least try to look at His Grace without prejudice.”

Meeting his father’s gaze, Lowell bowed briefly and left the study. As he walked the quiet corridor, his father’s words echoed in his ears.