Duke Berthier did not consider himself a greedy man. He held the high rank of duke, yet he lived by the principle of never reaching beyond his station.

His belief was simple: the more you have, the harder you must work.

That belief had cost him his closeness with his daughter, Adelaide.

Adelaide had suddenly come to her senses, and he had been seizing the chance to mend things between them. Because of that, Duke Berthier had begun to hope that the quiet, long-held wish he had carried for years might finally be within reach.

“Benjamin, am I still half-asleep?”

Duke Berthier had wanted to see Adelaide spending time with friends the way any ordinary girl would. He had been prepared to count himself satisfied with Violet coming every other day, dragging a reluctant Adelaide out into the garden at the very least.

They say that when a person changes too much, their end is drawing near. Duke Berthier had no intention of sacrificing so much as a single hair on Adelaide’s head just to see his wish fulfilled.

“I devote both body and heart to the House of Berthier, yet it seems my loyalty falls short of sharing dreams with you, Your Grace.”

“Benjamin. You could have just said it’s real. There was no need to go on about sharing dreams and whatnot.”

“It is real, Your Grace.”

“So you’re staging a protest for a raise, are you?”

“I believe my salary has already reached its ceiling, leaving me no grounds to request further increase.”

“So you want me to invent grounds. Honestly, you’re never straightforward, and that’s your one flaw. You go on about body and heart and all that unpleasant talk just because you’re afraid I won’t appreciate your dedication.”

Benjamin had no plans to ask for a raise, and Duke Berthier knew it perfectly well. The duke was simply lashing out for no real reason, afraid that this happy reality might vanish like a mirage if he let himself show too much joy.

“Lady Rissatino has come to see Adelaide!”

Duke Berthier was, at his core, a realist, so his fear did not last long. The moment he grasped that the reality before him was genuine, he forgot his age entirely and leaped to his feet.

Benjamin had anticipated exactly this and, when placing the latest order for blood pressure medicine, had quietly added a joint tonic to the list.

“What makes it even more remarkable is that Lady Rissatino already knows the young lady holds a letter-burning ceremony every morning.”

“Benjamin.”

Duke Berthier’s lips trembled with emotion.

“Lady Rissatino must be a saint. I’ll draft a decree to name her one this very moment.”

“The empire has no institution of sainthood, Your Grace.”

“That is precisely why I intend to create one! I’ll speak to His Majesty personally and revive the institution!”

“If you’ll recall, Your Grace, His Majesty said that if you came to the imperial palace one more time just to gossip, he would bar you from entering altogether.”

Benjamin calmly doused Duke Berthier’s enthusiasm with a full bucket of cold water.

“Hmph. His Majesty can be surprisingly petty, and that’s his flaw. Let me be clear, Benjamin. It was not gossip. His Majesty and I have both grown old and become fathers. What else do fathers talk about when they meet? They talk about their children! Just because His Majesty keeps his own mouth shut doesn’t mean I have to keep mine shut too. I cut it down to just a couple of hours, even though talking about all the adorable things our Adelaide has been doing lately could fill an entire night, and he has the nerve to threaten me over even that.”

Benjamin felt a surge of irritation at Duke Berthier, who had once shuddered at Adelaide’s favorite line, “What’s the worst that could happen, death?”

“Please take your calming tonic first, Your Grace.”

After drinking it, Duke Berthier reached for a sheet of stationery. He composed a letter announcing, with full confidence, that he would be working from home that day and sent it off to the imperial palace.

“I mention this only because you seem to be in good spirits, Your Grace.”

“It’s not the first or second time you’ve thrown dirty water on me when I’m in a good mood, but it’s unpleasant every single time.”

“Is it not better than being doused while you’re already in a foul mood?”

“Regardless. What’s the dirty water this time?”

“It appears Sub-baron Tena intends to harm the young lady.”

Duke Berthier had already heard about the incident with Dior Tena, who had been serving as Lionel’s swordsmanship instructor. Since things had finally been going well between him and Adelaide, and she hadn’t driven any maids away in a blind panic the way she used to, he had not bothered to clean up after the matter.

Dior Tena, a commoner, had clearly crossed a line. It was the kind of offense for which he ought to have been grateful simply to walk away on his own two feet.

“Adelaide showed rare mercy, but if he ruins it, her old temper will come back out.”

Benjamin answered with silence. Duke Berthier snorted and fumed, then felt something nagging at him, like a hangnail he couldn’t stop catching on. Even if Adelaide was a notorious troublemaker, anyone of no higher rank than sub-baron would know that charging at her recklessly would only cost them dearly.

“Benjamin. Put someone on Sub-baron Tena.”

Duke Berthier had a hot temper and high blood pressure, but he was also the emperor’s closest confidant and a seasoned political operator. He did not believe Sub-baron Tena was simply charging ahead blind with parental fury, like an enraged boar.

At that same hour, Adelaide sat with her arms crossed, eyeing her visitor with open displeasure. Vivian Wedge Rissatino’s reason for coming was obvious.

“Lady Adelaide, you’ve gone to the trouble of coming all this way, so won’t you show me the dragon?”

She didn’t even try to hide it.

“Draco is very shy around strangers.”

“My, you named him Draco? Calling a dragon a dragon—I imagine the dragon himself must have some feelings about that.”

Amy bobbed her head in what she clearly thought was a subtle nod of agreement. Then her eyes met Adelaide’s, and she startled, muttered something about fetching more tea, and fled.

“Lady Vivian, your manners in visiting someone’s home without an invitation are truly beyond words.”

“You flatter me. Hearing a compliment from Lady Adelaide, who collects letters sent by others every morning and burns them, I hardly know what to do with myself.”

Adelaide decided she had been patient enough.

“Lady Vivian, it doesn’t seem this visit will end pleasantly for either of us. Why don’t you be on your way?”

“I’m not leaving until I see the dragon in person.”

Vivian smiled brightly as she faced Adelaide. For the first time, Adelaide found herself missing Violet. If Violet had been here, she would have thrown everything she had into driving Vivian off, refusing to let Adelaide be taken away.

“You can give up on bringing Draco to your birthday banquet.”

“I’d very much like Draco to come even if Lady Adelaide doesn’t. I’ve already told the guests attending my birthday banquet that I’d show them a dragon.”

“You’re boasting about someone else’s dragon without permission?”

“If Lady Adelaide hadn’t held all those letter-burning ceremonies, I could have gone about this in a gentler way. Quite a shame, isn’t it?”

Vivian had her reasons. She had sent dozens of letters over the past months, each one carefully crafted to please Adelaide. She had heard that Adelaide burned letters, but she hadn’t given up hope that if she showed enough sincerity, Adelaide would read at least one of them.

“I don’t know how you managed to win over Lady Violet, but I’m not so easy to handle.”

“If I had won Violet over, she would never have set foot in the Berthier estate to begin with.”

Vivian had privately suspected that Adelaide had bullied the fragile Violet into friendship. But now, unexpectedly, Adelaide had said something that acknowledged a genuine bond with Violet. Vivian, who relished gossip, decided to dig deeper.

“You speak about Lady Violet as though you know her well.”

“She comes every day and chatters on about one thing or another whether I want her to or not.”

“And Lady Adelaide listens to all of it?”

“As I said, she keeps coming back no matter how many times I turn her away, so there’s nothing to be done. I get the feeling we’ve drifted quite far from the point. Lady Vivian, if there’s something you want to know, ask it plainly. Stop dancing around it.”

Adelaide set her teacup down with a sharp clack and looked Vivian straight in the eye.

“It’s just that I find it hard to believe two people so unlike each other became friends.”

“Friends can be made between people who seem like they don’t belong together. That’s just how it works.”

“Lady Adelaide, you do speak your mind very directly.”

“I’m a fairly direct person.”

Vivian had moved through the center of high society and interacted with all manner of people. Among them, she had never met a woman who expressed her thoughts as plainly and clearly as Adelaide did.

There are many kinds of collectors in the world. Some collect jewels, stamps, buttons, or even stones. Vivian, one might say, collected people.

The lesson her collecting had taught her was this: even someone who seemed utterly incompatible, on closer look, always had a side that hadn’t yet come to light.