2. My Kazerre, My Hyperion

“Welcome back, Your Grace.”

The butler standing at attention in front of the mansion bowed respectfully to Kazerre as he dismounted from his horse. Kazerre nodded lightly and handed his dust-covered gloves to the butler.

Morris, who had been in charge of the Evuteren ducal household as butler for his entire life, was a loyal man who had stood by his master’s side throughout his time on the northern frontline. For him, standing like a statue under the scorching sun to greet his master was nothing.

“The mansion seems noisy.”

Kazerre stopped abruptly as he was walking. Under furrowed brows, his purple eyes were busily searching for the source of the sound.

The Evuteren ducal residence, specially bestowed by the first Emperor of Mazengarb, boasted a history and tradition no less than the imperial palace.

In particular, the mansion, boasting of its majestic dignity, had an open square structure, with the main building located in the center, steadfastly supported by annexes lined up on both sides.

And now, the boisterous commotion that was grating on his nerves was coming from the entrance of the annex extending to the right.

“Today, the young lady called for a tailor to attend the Crown Prince’s birthday celebration. It seems they have just arrived.”

Morris explained with a slightly troubled expression.

There weren’t many people in the world who could make this elderly butler uncomfortable. And Aveline managed to do it time and time again.

It had been seven years since she moved to the ducal residence, right after her father, Count Martin Croeta, suddenly passed away in an accident.

The Count’s death brought not only personal sorrow but also a great crisis — the fact that Aveline was no longer a noble. This was because the Croeta countship was not a hereditary title.

Croeta was originally a fallen noble family, close to commoners, living in a remote village in the Gilt Mountains. When a child of prophecy was suddenly born, they hurriedly bestowed an empty title.

With the Count, the owner of that title, now dead, it was difficult to consider Croeta a titled family any longer.

But regardless of her family’s status, Aveline Croeta was still the fiancée of the Duke of Evuteren, chosen by God.

‘From now on, Evuteren will take charge of Aveline’s welfare. Prepare a place for her in the ducal residence.’

Kazerre, upon receiving news of the death in the north, naturally took responsibility for her welfare.

After all, at that time, the ducal residence in the capital had been empty without an owner for several years. It wouldn’t be a big deal to have one guest, would it?

However, when he finally returned to the capital and saw the unfamiliar faces greeting him, learning that the original occupants of those positions had been driven out by Aveline’s hand, he realized his thoughts had been completely wrong.

Aveline was reigning in the ducal residence not as a guest, but as the mistress. Like a fox playing king where there was no lion.

Even the head maid, who had been working in the ducal residence since before Kazerre was born, could not be an exception for Aveline. Kazerre couldn’t even find out their whereabouts in the end.

‘I don’t understand why you want to know about such unnecessary things.’

‘…Unnecessary?’

‘Yes. After all, as long as I’m here, none of them will ever set foot in this place again.’

The crooked smile that didn’t suit her fair and delicate face was still vivid in his memory.

It was from then on that he began to harbor an irreverent skepticism towards the god who had destined his fate.

“The young lady said she also had your formal attire for the banquet tailored, Your Grace.”

Morris was also one of the victims.

Although he wasn’t driven out like the head maid, despite returning triumphantly with his lord, his authority had been reduced by the intruder.

Yet, he didn’t show any particular resentment towards Aveline. Rather, he would defend her, saying that the future mistress seemed to be having a dress rehearsal in advance.

Perhaps he had overlapped her image with that of his young master, who had lost both parents early on, as she had lost her father and taken refuge in the ducal residence.

“Would you like to stop by the annex, Your Grace? You should be able to check on the attire now if you do.”

Morris cautiously suggested, observing Kazerre who had his gaze fixed persistently on the annex. It was close to a question he asked despite knowing the answer.

“…No, it’s fine.”

As expected, the old butler withdrew without further questioning at this response. Watching this, Kazerre felt his chest tighten again for some reason.

Aveline Croeta, whom everyone bowed their heads to but didn’t dare approach.

Even Morris, while pitying her, didn’t actively take care of her. She was like a ghost haunting the ducal residence.

What on earth was she trying to achieve by putting up these thorns against others in this way?

It was a concern he had pondered thousands of times when he once wanted to understand Aveline, but he still couldn’t find the answer.

‘Perhaps there was never an answer to begin with.’

Perhaps she simply possessed a nature that needed to subjugate everyone beneath her feet rather than stand shoulder to shoulder with others.

Isn’t that what the Aveline Croeta he had observed so far had sufficiently proved?

“……”

Suddenly, Kazerre realized that he had once again tried to understand Aveline.

Despite knowing better than anyone that it’s a meaningless attempt, whenever he comes to his senses, he finds himself habitually thinking about her. At those moments, Kazerre feels like a thoroughly trained hunting dog.

No matter how freely he may run across the fields, in the end, a hunting dog must return to its master when the time comes.

‘……In reality, am I any different?’

Perhaps due to his self-deprecation bordering on resignation, his appearance—which had been shining nobly like a hero’s portrait—momentarily took on a precarious air, like that of a prodigal son prowling back alleys.

But that lasted only briefly. In an instant, Kazerre’s face, having tucked away his emotions, returned to that of the upright knight and noble Duke of Evuteren he usually was.

As if turning away from all impropriety, he strode away from the annex with determined steps.

Thinking of Aveline Croeta always leaves him feeling this unpleasant.

Thus, for him, fate could only be the misfortune of realizing God’s cruelty forever.

*

At that moment, Aveline was leisurely reclining on a sofa embroidered with elaborate floral patterns, sipping cold-brewed lemon tea.

Before her, the clothing shop staff bustled about, arranging the created garments in an appealing display.

“This is the dress you requested, my lady.”

Nicol, the owner of the finest clothing shop in the Morbe shopping district and the dedicated tailor for the Duke’s household, explained while pointing to a light blue dress.

The dress emanated a glossy sheen, making it obvious to even the untrained eye that it was made of extremely expensive fabric.

“As you instructed, we plan to set sapphires closely along the neckline. We’ve prepared everything so we can begin work as soon as you provide the jewels.”

On the surface, it appeared to be nothing more than a noble lady enjoying a shopping excursion—an ordinary yet pleasant moment. However, the reception room was filled with a rather solemn atmosphere, as if they were preparing for a final battle.

Aveline Croeta was a merciless customer. She was particularly burdensome to Nicol, whose life goal was simply to live a long and peaceful existence.

‘What does it matter if she’s a big-spending regular?’

If he were to displease her even slightly, he would lose not just money but his livelihood. Nicol could name several shops that had closed down simply because they had fallen out of her favor.

“The sapphires?”

The maid standing by Aveline’s side quickly presented a heavy leather pouch. Their coordinated movements were more precise and clear than a procession of knights.

After checking the contents of the pouch, Aveline gave a small nod, and the maid handed the pouch to Nicol. He accepted it with an apologetic demeanor.

“Is this enough?”

“Yes, yes. More than enough.”

It wasn’t just enough—it was excessive. With this amount, he could cover the entire back of the dress with sapphires and still have some left over.

‘If I were to convert this to money……’

Nicol unconsciously gulped.

He couldn’t even estimate how much money was in his hands. Moreover, though the stones were somewhat small, they were Pritten sapphires, recognized for their superior brilliance and purity.

Yet, despite holding sapphires as countless as stars in the night sky, he didn’t have the slightest thought of pocketing any.

The quantity was such that stealing one or two might go unnoticed, but if he were caught, the mere thought of the consequences made his legs tremble.

It had long been Nicol’s principle not to take unnecessary risks when dealing with nobles. Especially when the client was Aveline Croeta—even if they were blue diamonds instead of sapphires, he wouldn’t dare touch them.

“And this is the outfit for Duke Evuteren. As you requested, the cravat and vest use the same fabric as your dress……”

After carefully handing the pouch to his assistant, Nicol moved toward the men’s formal wear hanging next to the dress and continued his explanation.

The snow-white vest had the same subtle luster as Aveline’s dress. The cravat was made from identical fabric.

The tailcoat to be worn over it was deep navy blue, made of such high-quality fabric that it stood stiffly without a single wrinkle. The embroidery on the sleeves, sewn with silver-plated thread, was particularly eye-catching.

When he first received the commission, Nicol had imagined Duke Evuteren wearing this tailcoat and smiled bitterly.

Such flashy and extravagant attire was never to the Duke’s taste. He preferred knightly garments with excellent mobility and eliminated unnecessary embellishments whenever possible.

Since he didn’t enjoy the admiration and adoration directed at him, ostentatious decorations only annoyed him.

“It looks rather plain.”

And the Duke’s fiancée was a woman who didn’t consider his preferences in the slightest.