Chapter 37

“Good afternoon, Madame. I am Dario Rufflo of the Second Knight Order.” 

Dario spoke as he watched Lady Ramil, frozen with her young daughter in her arms.

“The captain had urgent business and had to step out, so I’ve come in his place.”

‘I shouldn’t have passed by there. I got caught for nothing.’

It was troublesome, but he was a member of the Second Knight Order. He had to obey his superior’s orders.

“Pardon? Ah, I see.”

“Let’s go. I’ll escort you to the captain’s office.”

She seemed surprised, glancing around and adjusting her child, never expecting Dario to escort her.

It was a familiar reaction.

Despite fulfilling his knightly duties sincerely,

Most people—except his close comrades—saw him not as a knight of the Second Order, but as the second son of Rufflo Dukedom or the heir of Marquis Lambert.

He’d tried to change that perception, but it wasn’t easy.

In the past, he might have been angry for a while, but not anymore.

He knew well how hard it was to change such ingrained notions.

Well, he was planning to resign from knighthood and inherit a title within a few years anyway.

“Daisy. Hang in there a bit. You’ll see your father soon. Shall we go down and walk?”

“No!”

Lady Ramil gently soothed her whining child.

“Oh my, she’s not usually like this. Why today?”

Her child’s loud cries embarrassed her, so she glanced at Dario and smiled sheepishly.

Dario discreetly looked at Lady Ramil.

Carrying a splashing child down the long corridor seemed tiring; beads of sweat dotted her forehead.

“Madame, I’ve been too careless. If it’s alright, may I carry the little lady?”

“Oh, no need…”

She tried to refuse, but soon, overwhelmed, she handed over the child.

“Then, I apologize, but please do.”

“Yes. Lady Daisy, would you come over here?”

At Dario’s gentle call, Daisy reached out her short, chubby arms without hesitation.

Luckily, the young lady tapped his cheek and chin with her tiny hands, then settled quietly in his unfamiliar arms.

Feeling better, she let out a cute ‘hee!’ sound.

Dario’s gaze lingered on the white cotton hand firmly gripping his collar.

“……?”

And then he saw a familiar bracelet.

Dario slowly looked up at the ceiling, blinking hard.

‘Did I sleep too little? Am I seeing things?’

Otherwise, how could the bracelet he’d gifted Fierra be sparkling on a child’s left wrist?

But no matter how many times he checked, the bracelet didn’t disappear.

It was definitely the bracelet he’d given Fierra for her eighth birthday.

Unconsciously, Dario’s expression hardened.

It couldn’t be a similar bracelet.

He’d drawn and custom-ordered it himself, even if poorly, as a child.

‘Where did she get it?’

He couldn’t just demand to know in the middle of the Imperial Palace corridor—he’d look insane.

But he couldn’t simply ignore it, either.

Dario examined the bracelet sharply again.

Even if the odds were low, there was always a chance.

At that moment,

The child, resting her cheek on his chest, looked up.

And saw the blue-eyed knight glaring down with a harsh expression.

“……Ah.”

As his face crumpled like wrinkled paper, Dario hurriedly forced a smile.

A stiff, awkward smile spread across his lips.

But the child had already seen his twisted gaze, and her preheated sorrow burst out before anyone could stop it.

“Oh my, Daisy! Why are you crying suddenly?”

Lady Ramil soothed her wailing daughter as Dario quietly looked away,

As if he had nothing to do with the situation.

But the clever child pointed at Dario with her finger and cried, so all his efforts were in vain.

After many hardships, Dario managed to escort Captain Ramil’s family safely to the captain’s office and, on his way back, pondered:

Why was Captain Ramil’s daughter wearing the bracelet he’d given Fierra?

He had one guess.

Yesterday’s bazaar—a small event for family and close friends.

The bazaar he hadn’t been invited to.

Perhaps it was purchased there.

Even he thought it was a long stretch, but Dario wiped his face with his palm.

Strictly speaking, it was plausible.

The purpose of the bazaar was to sell items that had become too small or useless, and use the proceeds to help those in need.

But honestly, he was quite shocked.

Dario’s face twisted as if he’d been splashed with water.

Even though the bracelet had his initials engraved, someone bought it.

Maybe they hadn’t noticed the tiny engraving on the back?

‘Why did Fierra put it up for sale anyway? Even if it didn’t fit, was it something to sell?’

Trying to understand only made him more annoyed.

Now he understood why Delia had looked at him with such excessive pity.

And why she had said, “This was the only one left,” while giving him the fountain pen Colin had put up for sale.

It was her way of offering comfort and sympathy.

“Like some kid…”

He fussed over such a trivial matter.

Dario gathered his sunken feelings and stepped forward with a blank face.

His steps were weak, as if he’d spent all day doing unpleasant tasks, though he didn’t realize it.

“There you are, Sir Rufflo.”

He was about to head back to the training ground and spar with his colleagues,

But when he saw who was approaching, Dario wore a faint smile.

Though, it was hardly a friendly one.

* * *

With the bazaar successfully concluded, Fierra came to the plaza to pick out small gifts to send as thanks to the attendees.

Keeping a proper distance from her escort, she hurried along, and spotted a familiar face.

It was Owen, surrounded by ladies.

He was conversing smoothly with them, looking quite composed.

But Fierra noticed, despite his calm expression, Owen was actually very troubled.

His deep brown eyes were drying out like drought-stricken earth.

“Oh dear.”

Fierra murmured, her brows drawn together.

Even if he looked comfortable, every word was costing him considerable effort.

Lately, his appearances in society had become a small sensation.

Sadly, while he stayed in the capital, he’d have to endure being surrounded by people.

“Hang in there.”

Fierra quietly clenched her fist and sent a discreet cheer, quickly turning away.

It was just intuition, but if Owen noticed her, something bothersome would surely happen.

Pity was pity, but trouble was trouble.

“Lady Wonton!”

But life never goes as planned.

No sooner had she turned and taken a step than she heard someone calling her.

For a moment, she considered pretending not to hear and just leaving, but the desperate tone made Fierra turn around without realizing.

Owen waved his hand above his head, looking at her with longing.

Like a lost child spotting a parent, it was a tender gesture.

‘Why is he acting like that?’

Fierra hid her reluctance behind a bright smile and approached.

“Hello, Young Earl Feltrum. It’s been a while, Lady Angerrere, Lady Jerardin.”

After greeting everyone lightly, Fierra quickly spoke before they could reply.

“I’d love to chat more, but I have an appointment soon.”

I’m scheduled to visit the jeweler at three o’clock.

Afraid she might seem uncomfortable, Fierra added an unnecessary explanation.

“You’re going to the jeweler? That’s perfect. I happen to be headed that way myself—let me escort you.”

Owen spoke quickly, as if he’d been waiting for this.

Fierra was dumbfounded.

‘I never even said which jeweler.’

He must have wanted to use her as a lifeline to escape this place.

Luckily, the other ladies didn’t seem to notice anything odd.

Apparently, even a flimsy excuse sounded plausible if spoken confidently.