Chapter 8

“I’ll prepare the analysis data before the next meeting!”  

With the enthusiastic words of Enji, a café staff member, the meeting came to an end.  

As the employees filed out of the meeting room, Charlotte leaned back against her chair and recalled the conversation they had just had in the now-quiet room.  

“Snowflower?”  

Erhen had asked again. Charlotte explained to him what Ras had investigated.  

“Yes. It’s a flower that can only be found in the northern regions of Singred.”  

Singred was a city-state federation bordering the northern edge of the Rohadin Empire. Composed of five major islands, each island functioned as an independent nation.  

The Snowflower was a flower unique to Nigella, the northernmost island of Singred. It was unfamiliar in Rohadin, a region with a relatively milder climate compared to Singred.  

“I don’t know if it’s meaningful, but… the flower’s meaning symbolizes deep affection and hope.”  

Charlotte paused as she conveyed the information she had gathered. She then glanced at Erhen to gauge his reaction.  

Erhen waited for her to continue, as if to show he was fine with it. After a brief silence, Charlotte spoke again.  

“It also means, ‘I wish for your death.’”  

There was no need to hesitate, given that Erhen’s life was already under threat. But saying it out loud was a different matter altogether.  

Though it had been difficult for Charlotte to bring it up, Erhen’s reaction was unexpectedly light.  

“It’s a rather straightforward message.”  

“Uh… yes, it is.”  

“We’ll need to send an investigation team to Singred as well.”  

Charlotte, puzzled by Erhen’s nonchalant response, asked, 

“You don’t seem very surprised.”  

At her reaction, Erhen let out a sly smile, as if finding it amusing.  

“Do you think a former rebel leader wouldn’t have a single enemy?”  

Watching Erhen laugh while casually making such a chilling statement, Charlotte once again reflected on whether she had underestimated the gravity of the world she now lived in.  

Her marriage to Erhen had been one she pursued against her family’s opposition.  

It was natural for her family to object to her marrying into a marquisate buried in debt.  

Thus, Charlotte’s decision to go through with it had been entirely her own.  

“If it’s not the Marquis, then no one else will do! I love him so, so much!”  

She had lied, claiming she loved him more than her own life, just to make the marriage happen.  

And yet, while she had brought a substantial dowry to ensure she wouldn’t live like a beggar in a debt-ridden family, she couldn’t bring herself to request further support from the Rothschild family after suddenly deciding to divorce and live independently.  

In her previous life, she had been a graduate student who had never experienced social life outside of a part-time job at a café.  

Having known nothing but experiments, theses, and professors, Charlotte had to learn everything from scratch to make her business a success.  

It felt like she was diving headfirst into uncharted territory.  

At first, she didn’t even know the basics of running a business.  

Fortunately, Charlotte’s family wasn’t just wealthy but resourceful.  

Part of the substantial dowry she had brought into the marriage had been used to pay off the debts of the Rosenheim Marquisate.  

The rest had been set aside as emergency funds, which she used to plan and execute her new endeavors.  

Moreover, as if proving that the body she now inhabited carried the blood of a natural entrepreneur, Charlotte showed remarkable business acumen despite being self-taught.  

“Ah, I’m so tired.”  

Charlotte slumped onto her desk, looking utterly drained.  

While she had been relying on stimulants like coffee to get through each day, she hadn’t had proper rest since the day Erhen was found unconscious.  

Her fatigue had been piling up.  

“Viscountess, it seems like you’re overworking yourself. I think you should take a break.”  

Lida, who had just returned from helping employees taste-test coffee beans, spoke to her.  

Charlotte turned her head slightly to look at Lida.  

“Hmm, Lida.”  

“You’ve barely been sleeping these days.”  

Lida’s voice was filled with concern.  

Lida had grown up alongside Charlotte at the Rothschild estate and was two years her senior.  

When Charlotte married, Lida had followed her to the Rosenheim household to serve as her maid.  

Even after the divorce, Lida continued to work as Charlotte’s housekeeper and secretary, remaining her trusted friend and older sister figure.  

“Viscountess, you look so exhausted. Please get some proper rest, even if it’s just for tonight.”  

“I’m fine. I can still manage.”  

Charlotte smiled brightly and stretched her arms.  

“Besides, there’s still so much to do….”  

“Work?”  

“Yes. First, I’m thinking of increasing the number of guards.”  

It had been quite some time since they began speculating about the true nature of the Snowflower emblem from Kopenbach, but they had yet to catch a single lead.  

The attack on Erhen was unlikely to be the last.  

Thus, she had to do everything she could moving forward.  

“Given the circumstances, I’m planning to contact Lucas’s company.”  

“The young master?”  

“Yes. When it comes to safety, the more, the better, don’t you think?”  

The Duke’s household had already stationed guards around Charlotte’s residence and its surroundings in response to the recent events.  

They had also intensified Erhen’s security.  

Every magical tool the Duke’s household could deploy had been utilized.  

But Charlotte wasn’t satisfied.  

She believed that even layers upon layers of defense wouldn’t be enough to ensure safety.  

***

Philip paused as he entered the room where Erhen was staying.  

Though it was a temporary residence in the annex, the space was far too cramped for a Duke to stay in.  

The room was less than a quarter of the size of the Rosenheim Duke’s office.  

The small space was filled with a bed barely large enough for two adults, a tidy desk, and a wardrobe, arranged just enough not to feel claustrophobic.  

There was, of course, no space for receiving guests.  

“If you’ve come in, start your report instead of gawking around.”  

Erhen, noticing Philip scanning the room, adjusted his glasses and spoke.  

“Ah, my apologies. I was just thinking this space seems too small for you, Your Grace….”  

“Have you already forgotten the days we spent in tents while serving in the military?”  

Those were wartime conditions, weren’t they?  

Philip swallowed the words he wanted to say and stepped closer to Erhen.  

The desk in front of Erhen was already piled high with documents.  

These included reports on the past and current activities of the remnants of the old Imperial faction, spared by Michael’s merciful orders, and research papers for extensive security magic.  

Without looking up from the paper in his hand, Erhen, who still wore a dissatisfied expression, asked Philip, 

“So, how is Danielle doing?”  

“The young lady is doing well. She still doesn’t know about your situation, Your Grace.”  

Danielle Rosenheim was the only daughter of Erhen’s late brother, Maximilian.  

Maximilian had died when Danielle was just a year old.  

According to the rules, Danielle should have inherited the Marquisate, but because she was too young, Erhen had taken the position in her stead.  

Thus, Erhen never considered the title as his own.  

He believed it was a position he would pass on to Danielle once she came of age.  

“I see. Don’t tell her anything unnecessary.”  

“Yes, Your Grace.”

It was something Danielle would eventually come to know. However, there was no need to frighten a seven-year-old child just yet. Although Danielle was different from other seven-year-olds in that she was the heir, Erhen still wished for her to be happy during her childhood—just as he had been in his younger days, spending warm and joyful times with his kind older brother.  

Philip, understanding this sentiment, nodded in agreement.  

“There’s no evidence linking the Snowflower to the Imperial faction.”  

“What about the investigation team sent to Singred?”  

“No news yet. It seems we’ll have to wait a bit longer.”  

Hearing the lack of progress, Erhen removed his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose with his fingertips.  

Thanks to Charlotte sharing her findings, the Duke’s household had also begun their own investigation. However, it had already been a week, and they had yet to uncover anything about the Snowflower emblem. How could there be so little information?  

The investigation focused on those who had inevitably borne grudges against him during the rebellion, but no meaningful results had surfaced.  

It had been two years since the Kingdom was established. Though the country bore the same name, its political system was still that of a fledgling state. Who could be targeting it?  

The political system.  

A thought suddenly struck Erhen, and he straightened his posture. The organization behind the Snowflower emblem might not be related to those involved in the rebellion.  

“Expand the scope of the investigation. Find out who’s hiding behind the Imperial Faction.”  

“Are you suggesting the Imperial Faction might not be responsible?”  

“Considering Singred’s political structure, yes.”  

He was about to elaborate when they were interrupted by the sound of commotion outside. Both of them stopped speaking.  

Philip walked over to the window, pulled back the curtain, and identified the source of the noise.  

A man, accompanied by his attendants, was entering the garden.  

Despite the presence of guards stationed all around, the man had easily passed through the gate. This suggested he wasn’t an assassin targeting the Duke. Likely, he was someone acquainted with Charlotte.  

Philip muttered, 

“A man…?”  

A man? A man?  

Erhen’s expression hardened immediately.  

Did Charlotte have a man in her life now?  

Even though they were divorced, it was a possibility he had never considered.  

Hastily, Erhen grabbed the jacket draped over his chair and put it on as he left the room with Philip.  

If this was Charlotte’s man, he at least needed to see who he was—or rather, since he was staying here, he should at least greet the guest properly.  

As he hurried down the stairs, Erhen assessed how much of his magical energy had recovered.  

The moment he stepped out of the annex, his presence caught the attention of a pink-haired figure, who turned around to meet his gaze.  

A faint look of surprise flickered across the pink-haired man’s face as their eyes met.  

“Duke of Rosenheim?”