Agente and Sylvester, the two ducal families of Preteria. Once standing shoulder to shoulder and enjoying brilliant honor as the two pillars of the nation, they had now become more uncomfortable than discord.

Feeling a heavy atmosphere, Rhys’s gaze naturally shifted to Theophane’s legs. In her previous life, when Rhys spent time with him, Sylvester had lost the war and Theophane could not use one of his legs.

The war had not yet happened, and he was walking perfectly fine. Rhys felt unconscious relief.

“I am honored to meet another pillar of Preteria.”

“Formalities are unnecessary. Raise your head.”

When Theophane, a fellow duke, showed respect, Mikhail declined it. Theophane, seemingly having no intention to bow any further, straightened his back and showed a letter bearing the Agente crest.

It was the letter Rhys had sent to Theophane before meeting her father.

“I received a letter from the Lady stating she would return Laskaria.”

With his solid voice, Theophane’s eyes turned to Rhys standing beside him. Rhys involuntarily flinched. It was difficult to remain still under his gaze, different from any she had received before, with meaning she couldn’t decipher.

“I will take back Sylvester’s land as the rightful lord of Laskaria.”

“Sylvester’s land? Your joke goes too far, Theophane.”

Mikhail approached the man who looked as though he wouldn’t flinch even if stabbed with a sword.

The gazes of the middle-aged man with neat wrinkles and the man young enough to be his son collided at close range. Neither seemed willing to withdraw their fierce gaze first.

“Laskaria is land cultivated for the pillars that support this country. You know well its honor and meaning. It’s too much for a pillar that’s already broken.”

“……”

“I won’t support my daughter’s will just because it’s hers. This is not children’s play.”

Mikhail warned the young people standing before him. There were no exceptions, not even for his daughter.

Laskaria was politically important strategic land, and even if that weren’t the case, Mikhail never easily gave up what had once come into his possession. Especially if it had originally belonged to Sylvester.

“I didn’t set foot on this land to engage in children’s play either.”

“Then our conversation should be easier.”

“But it seems there’s something you’ve misunderstood.”

A faint sneer spread across Theophane’s face, which had seemed like it would maintain the same expression forever.

Rhys sensed an unfamiliar current from him. Was he always someone who made such expressions?

The man’s focus, wearing a terribly cold smile, drifted away as he recalled the past.

“Laskaria is land bestowed by the founding emperor to Sylvester, no one else. Those who cultivated that land are Sylvester’s ancestors, and I am their only descendant.”

Knowing his words would strike at those listening, Theophane didn’t concern himself with anyone’s reactions.

“You should know this better than anyone.”

At that unyielding voice, something twinged in a corner of Rhys’s heart.

“It’s land bestowed by the founding emperor to his meritorious subjects when establishing this country, Preteria, and land cultivated by countless ancestors who shed their blood.”

The two people’s words were the same yet different.

The people in this space were looking at the same thing but dreaming different dreams. Perhaps from long ago, something Rhys had never known.

The letter in Theophane’s hand was being subtly crumpled.

“When I saw the letter with the Agente name stating Laskaria would be returned, I hoped it meant you were finally fulfilling your duty, but I didn’t expect such a misunderstanding. That’s unfortunate.”

Having finished speaking, Theophane turned his gaze to Rhys as if he had nothing more to say.

“I will speak with the Lady who directly expressed her intention.”

“Aprilis has not yet finished her conversation with me.”

But the current flowing between the two men remained tense. Though there were no weap*ns in this place, it was as if the war brought on by long-standing resentment had not ended.

She could no longer remain silent under the pretext of observing the situation.

“Father, I…”

Just as Rhys, having made that judgment, opened her mouth—

Thump, thump. Following urgent footsteps, the door swung open.

“Duke Mikhail, Aprilis!”

A face Rhys didn’t particularly want to see in this situation suddenly burst into the study.

“Calles?”

Ignoring the butler who seemed troubled by the succession of uninvited guests, Calles strode in.

He immediately stood right next to his fiancée, grabbed one of Rhys’s shoulders, and pulled her into his arms.

“Direct your words at me, who already knew of Rhys’s intentions. Please don’t say anything more to her.”

In this bewildering situation, before feeling displeasure, Rhys first checked Theophane’s reaction.

Though it was natural for attention to shift to Calles who had suddenly appeared and was causing disruption, somehow she wished he wouldn’t see this side of her.

“What are you doing? Let go and let’s talk.”

“She must have been considering the welfare of both families. Please don’t pressure Rhys any further.”

Regardless of what Rhys said, Calles boldly shielded her in front of the head of House Agente.

She felt her body grow cold. Yes, Calles was this kind of man. A man who could do anything without hesitation for his goals, even things he didn’t want to do.

While Rhys was shaking off the familiar sense of powerlessness, Calles glanced at the lord of Sylvester who stood out in this space. He stepped forward conspicuously.

“Your Grace, the situation has become heated. Please let her go for today and give Rhys time to think for herself.”

Mikhail, sighing softly, reluctantly nodded.

At that signal, as if released from reins, Rhys pushed away the arms holding her and left the room.

***

In the silence, only the occasional sound of teacups clinking could be heard.

In the reception room where only the two of them remained, Rhys looked at the man sitting across from her. Somehow she felt strangely excited.

Was it because she had shaken off Calles, who had complained of being wronged, saying he was worried after seeing her outburst? Or because he hadn’t refused her request to bring tea and talk?

Though she couldn’t identify the source of this feeling, she shouldn’t show it to Theophane. To him, she was just the Agente Lady who had suddenly sent him a letter.

“My father may be stubborn, but Laskaria will eventually return to you, Duke.”

There was no response to her firmly delivered words after barely collecting herself. It was natural that she couldn’t expect a favorable reaction from him. Rhys continued regardless.

“As you said, Laskaria rightfully belongs to Sylvester. There will be no more disgrace to that honor.”

“I’ve been thinking since I received the letter.”

His words began with a completely different context. Theophane, who had been quietly lifting his teacup repeatedly, continued indifferently.

“I simply cannot understand.”

It was a sharp tone befitting a face resembling a well-honed sword.

“Why go to such lengths to do this?”

“……”

“After neglecting the land all this time, now you say you’re returning it to its rightful owner. Even defying Duke Mikhail to do so.”

The emotionless voice listed Rhys’s actions. Theophane wasn’t the type to mock or ridicule others, but he became merciless when stating facts. His low, heavy voice added authority to his words.

Indeed, this was something she hadn’t known in her previous life.

So this is how coldly Theophane looks at the Agente Lady who hasn’t lost everything.

The different circumstances and position of their meeting compared to her previous life meant this. Even though she had prepared for this, Rhys felt a bitterness in her mouth.

“As your father said, this is not children’s play. Though it may be a game to you, I have no reason to refuse, so I came.”

But he was equally unaware of who she was. A noble lady who had grown up comfortably enjoying the honor and wealth her father had achieved, a young woman ignorant of the world. Such things could be read in Theophane’s gaze toward Rhys.

Rhys picked up her teacup and composed her expression.

“No, Duke. You’re mistaken.”

At her unhesitating, clean correction, Theophane closed his mouth. Rhys took a sip of tea, then set it down leisurely.

“This is as important to me as it is to you. And I’m not offering to return the land without compensation.”

“Compensation?”

“Yes. I have something to ask of you at the upcoming Founding Festival.”

“What are you suddenly talking about?”

His demeanor noticeably changed at the mention of the Founding Festival. It was the reaction she had expected.

Rhys looked at him with a gentle smile.

“It’s simple. Help me break off my engagement.”