“Ram, what’s that?”

“Ah, something a guest left with us. Said they’d pick it up when leaving.”

“I see.”

At the Carpendier Count’s maid Ram’s words, the servant guarding the entrance shrugged.

Ram placed a somewhat creepy-looking teddy bear on a small table inside the entrance and hurriedly walked away.

The servant at the entrance glanced at the teddy bear before turning his head forward again and yawned so wide his mouth nearly split.

After the surroundings grew quiet, Rick, who had been sitting still like a doll, quietly got up.

Perhaps because his body was made entirely of fabric and cotton, and he was being careful, his movement was soundless. His button eyes held a chilly light.

‘I suppose it’s time to move.’

Actually, Rick’s reason for telling Terry to leave him behind was close to a lie. After all, who would want to leave someone they care about alone with a suspected fraud?

But still, the reason Rick pushed Terry towards Damian was…

‘…I need to check.’

To find out exactly who this Damian pretending to be ‘Rick’ was, and why he was approaching Terry.

Even Rick thought his human form was remarkably similar to Damian. The purple eyes, pale skin, down to the neatly arranged hair falling over his forehead.

If even he was shocked when he first saw Damian, how much more so for Teresia? Especially with him deliberately trying to deceive like this.

So Rick himself, whom people wouldn’t be wary of at all, had no choice but to investigate Damian directly.

Selena, who had lost some power from the previous incident, and the Everdeen mansion’s ghosts might disappear if they moved this far from the mansion, and the Carpendier Count’s residence seemed to have no ghosts.

‘Even if I’m lucky enough to find something out, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to tell anyone.’

Rick sighed deeply as he slid down the table leg.

The beggar ghost… that is, the ‘God of Death’ Hades, had an unpredictable personality.

He said he had placed a restriction on Rick preventing him from saying ‘I am that very boy Terry met.’

Indeed, last time when he saw Damian pretending to be himself and tried to shout out the truth in anger, his voice became distorted and inaudible.

Rick couldn’t be certain whether that restriction would extend to finding and delivering evidence to Terry that ‘Damian is not the boy you’re looking for.’

If Hades’ spiteful restriction reached that far, it wouldn’t matter much even if he discovered Damian had sinister intentions. Rather, knowing everything but having to watch Terry from the sidelines would break his heart three or four times over.

Moreover, Terry now believes, due to Damian’s act, that he is the boy from the Empire’s Founding Festival – her first love.

If he were to tell her everything was just her imagination, would she be able to avoid getting hurt? Wouldn’t she cry in pain from being so thoroughly deceived?

‘If Damian Carpendier has no intention of harming Terry otherwise.’

If Damian truly just liked Teresia and wanted to get closer to her, even if through somewhat cowardly means.

Then… would there be any reason to clear up Terry’s ‘misunderstanding’? After all, they say ignorance is bliss.

‘…To begin with.’

Even his own human form might be a ‘fake’ modeled after Damian Carpendier…

Rick stopped moving for a moment as his chest ached like a bruised apple, but soon began moving again while avoiding people’s eyes.

Though climbing walls wasn’t easy since the teddy bear’s fabric was soft, he managed to make his way up to the window of the Count Carpendier’s office by using his untied ribbon for support.

‘The count and his eldest son seemed to know something, so it would be right to check here first.’

Rick remembered how awkwardly Count Carpendier and his heir had acted towards Damian during the meal.

Though only warm conversation and explanations followed after Terry showed signs of suspicion, Rick, sitting on her lap, could see the count and his son’s legs trembling under the table.

There must be something making them uneasy to act that way. He needed to confirm what it was.

Worried Terry might notice his actions, Rick carefully dusted off the dirt from climbing the building’s outer wall and retied the ribbon he had used as a rope.

Though the ribbon was slightly wrinkled overall and tied messily, it looked passable enough to resemble its original state.

After roughly fixing his appearance, Rick stood on tiptoe and peered inside the window. He immediately tilted his head in surprise.

‘Why is the eldest son here…?’

Clearly after the banquet earlier, the count cited work and the eldest son sword training as reasons for leaving.

Yet now he was standing in the count’s office looking fresh as if he hadn’t even broken a sweat. Even if he had quickly finished sword training and rushed here, the timing didn’t make sense…

‘Could it have been a lie?’

If so, why?

Rick pressed his ear close to the window frame, unable to hide his curiosity. He could faintly hear the conversation inside the office.

“Shouldn’t we tell him the truth now? I heard the Duke is still looking for the young master, if he finds out we’ve been hiding him…”

“…”

“Say something, Father!”

The eldest son raised his voice in frustration at the count who sat silently on the sofa with his hands clasped.

While Rick was trying to understand his words, the count who had been silent for a long while finally raised his head.

His eyes, which had seemed quite weak during dinner, now gleamed with greed and a strange hope.

“…No. Unless the young master says he wants to return first, we cannot.”

“But, Father.”

“No buts! At this rate, the Carpendier name will be erased from the nobility register before you can inherit the count title. Is that what you want?”

“…”

The eldest son pressed his lips tightly together. Though clearly resentful, his attitude showed he knew there was no fault in the count’s words.

Seeing his son like this, the count let out a deep sigh. He clasped his hands tightly together and muttered quickly.

“The young master is the heir to the Lambard duchy. Gaining his favor is as good as a guaranteed investment. For those of us who have nothing, even getting this opportunity is a miracle.”

“…”

“The young master said he would speak well to the Duke even if discovered, so we just need to help him and secure our position as his vassals. That’s our only way to survive. Understand?”

“…Yes.”

The eldest son nodded reluctantly.

The count sighed again and roughly stroked his son’s hair a few times, adding that this was all for his sake.

Meanwhile, Rick, upon hearing the word ‘Lambard,’ quickly removed his hands from the window frame and lowered his body. He felt as if his nonexistent heart was pounding rapidly.

‘If it’s the House of Lambard.’

Weren’t they practically the Everdeen family’s political enemies along with the Clarsen Marquis family? Yet Damian was a young master of such a family?

Moreover, from the conversation, it seemed Damian was currently hiding from Duke Lambard behind Count Carpendier. Though the reason why he was here avoiding his own father remained unclear…

‘Should I try telling her after all? That Damian is not Carpendier but Lambard?’

Whatever Damian’s ulterior motives might be, Terry wouldn’t want to keep someone from House Lambard, practically an enemy of Everdeen, by her side.

She valued ‘Everdeen’ as much as buying the Oblene Viscounty. Everdeen’s enemies were her enemies.

But when Rick finally reached the greenhouse after much trouble, Damian was smiling at Terry while wearing the mask. Terry was just blinking at him, seemingly completely enchanted.

Seeing that scene made his heart sink. Fear suddenly drenched his chest.

‘In this situation…’

If he claimed “Damian is your enemy” without any real evidence.

Would Terry, who had fallen in love, really listen to him? Wouldn’t she rather look at him with contempt for groundlessly slandering someone she liked?

Even while thinking ‘Terry’ wouldn’t do that, Rick couldn’t completely shake off his groundless anxiety. Paradoxically, the more he liked and trusted Terry, the more that anxiety cast shadows beneath his feelings.

‘Even if he is a Lambard, if he truly likes Terry… he might not harm her…’

In the end, Rick muttered weakly to himself and turned away with difficulty, deciding to watch from the sidelines as long as Damian didn’t harm Terry.

But he actually knew. That this was just cowardly rationalization.

In the end, Rick simply didn’t want to be hated by the one he loved.

* * *

That night, long after Teresia had left.

“Hmm.”

Clink.

A sound like small pebbles colliding and an interested hum echoed through the dark room.

A black-haired boy sitting on the windowsill with his long legs carelessly stretched out raised his hand to examine something in the moonlight.

In his hand was a transparent crystal sparkling with rainbow colors. At his feet lay a mask with ugly dents here and there, rolling randomly on the floor.

The purple eyes of the boy, Damian, looking at the irite crystal sparkled like when plucking off a butterfly’s wings in play.

“‘Irite dye’…”