She seemed to demand someone’s entire life story with just a word, not even considering the possibility of refusal. Should he call it naivety or ignorance of the ways of the world?

‘She must be curious. A man from who-knows-where suddenly appears and secures an inner circle position.’

Her curiosity would also serve as minimal vigilance. It had already been a month since she became aware of him—if anything, her questions were late.

He needed to prepare a solid identity to reassure her. It wouldn’t be difficult. He just needed to elaborate on the background from the shoddy resume he had shown Adollo.

His hand, unconsciously reaching for the fountain pen, paused. The narrative he had prepared was too lengthy to write down. He decided to postpone using the expensive fountain pen for another time.

“I’m from Genes. I’ve worked as a butler there all along, but due to the civil war, I was forced to come to Bladen and am preparing to settle.”

The surprise in Agate’s eyes was clearly visible—she likely knew nothing of recent foreign affairs. It was fortunate that she couldn’t speak. Additional questions would not benefit him.

And it didn’t take long to realize that this thought was a solid misconception.

[You’re a foreigner, but you speak Bladen so well.]

[How did you end up in Ponten? It’s quite remote for an outsider to know about.]

[I often went to southern Genes for vacations as a child. Are you from the south? Or the north?]

Agate actively listened to Sion’s words and asked questions whenever gaps appeared, to the point where one might wonder if this was really the same woman who had been immersed in melancholy just moments ago.

‘Our dear lady was quite talkative…’

Moreover, Agate picked only questions not in his resume—in other words, parts he hadn’t prepared for—but Sion, skilled in improvisation, didn’t falter and freely invented stories.

Before he knew it, he had become a young man from northern Genes, a boy who became head of his poor household early and started working as a butler for his family’s sake. Expecting her to ask about his family next, he already had a plausible narrative prepared for one younger brother and two younger sisters.

[So you chose the path of a butler out of necessity for your family.]

“It was an unavoidable choice at the time, but looking back now, it turned out to be a choice well-suited to my aptitude.”

[Then what was your original dream?]

The story about his siblings, ready to flow from his mouth, was instantly crushed by Agate’s single question mark.

“…Dream?”

Sion unconsciously echoed the word.

He would guarantee it was the first time in his life he had received such a question. Naturally, he had no prepared false answer.

The uninterrupted conversation was suddenly severed by that one question. Agate, not understanding why, waited in silence for his lips to open.

But contrary to Agate’s expectation, Sion’s lips didn’t open. Instead, he took out the fountain pen she had given him and removed the cap. Sitting across from the lady, he wrote the letters upside down for her convenience.

[Doctor.]

When Sion’s hand left the paper, just two characters were revealed. Who would have thought these would be the first words he would write with this pen? Despite having ample time, he was deeply dissatisfied with the answer he had given.

It was the only truth among the stream of lies he had told.

“I called it a dream, but I don’t intend to keep it as just a dream.”

He added unnecessary words. Even he didn’t understand himself.

Why was he suddenly answering seriously when he could have easily deflected?

Yes, if he succeeded in fleeing overseas, he planned to open a small clinic in the outskirts.

He was sick of flashy, noisy things now. They had never been his taste to begin with. They were all choices made to survive.

While living by creating numerous personas, his second life had been decided quite naturally. At some point, without realizing when, he had decided that once all this fake life was cleared away, he would live as a doctor. As if receiving a revelation of destiny.

His talent overflowed, and his skills were already prepared. Of course, it wasn’t for noble reasons like humanity or a spirit of service.

It was simply because of memories. Memories from when he was a boy, unusually small compared to his peers.

Back then, when he was hurt, beaten, and rolling in pain, he wished for bandages and medicine. When he had fevers and chills, he wished for at least one person to be by his side.

Ironically, these memories—seemingly useless in life—had become the milestone of his life.

Now that he had spoken, embarrassment washed over him. It was the first time he had revealed his goal to anyone, and of all people, it was the lady. No, perhaps he could tell her precisely because she was the lady. If nothing else, her silence was guaranteed.

No response came, and only awkward silence lingered around them. Though it was natural since the lady didn’t speak, Sion somehow felt it was because of his unsuitable answer.

Uncharacteristically, he ran one hand through his hair, showing a disheveled appearance. The well-ordered shape of his pomaded hair naturally collapsed.

“Why… are you smiling?”

When he casually turned his gaze to look straight ahead, Sion’s eyes lifted diagonally. A faint smile hovered around the lady’s lips before dispersing like fog.

But he hadn’t seen wrong. She had definitely smiled.

The meaning of his question wasn’t about anything else but why she smiled so unexpectedly now when she hadn’t moved a muscle when other servants, including Adollo, had so desperately hoped for her smile.

It was astounding and bewildering. To think she would first show her smile to the one who least appreciated its value.

Adollo should have seen this. With him as a witness, he could have asked the Duke of Irone for a reward for making his daughter smile—who knows, he might have been generously compensated.

In this way, Sion was extremely worldly and needed capital for his desired future.

Agate, unaware of his dark intentions, picked up her pen again with an expressionless face as if she had never smiled.

[You seem like you were a sharp and bold butler in Genes too.]

Her answer was completely unrelated to the previous context. It was neither a response to Sion’s question about why she smiled nor a reaction to his dream. Did the lady naturally only say what she wanted to say?

Sion’s head throbbed at Agate’s renewed probing into his past. It was good that she had shifted her attention to conversation, but the topic was entirely about him—and moreover, his false past.

“……”

The lady was incomprehensible. His black hair, simultaneously matte and glossy, rippled through the gaps between his fingers as he ran his hand through it again.

How much did she remember? Did she remember slapping him?

What about the bathroom incident? She probably wouldn’t remember when she had been delirious with fever all night.

Thinking back, there were more than a few concerning moments. If she remembered even one of these, her comments about him being bold must be teasing. Yet it was puzzling that she neither showed displeasure nor any discomfort toward him despite remembering.

No matter how he thought about it, there was only one reason she could be so at ease.

Agate Irone did not see Sion Benzef as a man at all.

Rather than feeling hurt pride from this unfamiliar treatment, he found it refreshing. It was indifference he hadn’t experienced since shedding his boyhood.

For someone weary from impure attention, being spared the trouble of reading the other’s unseemly intentions and thoughts was welcome. The only problem was that it hindered his own impure intentions.

At the same time, he became curious about her fiancé for the first time. Three years ago, he had been staying in a northeastern metropolis far from the capital, so he didn’t know much about the capital’s nobility.

‘Besides, how many people are named Daniel?’

Agate Irone’s Daniel was certainly either an extraordinarily handsome man or someone with an unremarkable appearance—one of the two. The reason Agate could be indifferent to Sion was either because she had already met a man who caught her eye, or because she was one of those rare types who had no interest in appearances.

For reference, despite encountering numerous nobles, Sion had never met even one person of that rare type. In that sense, Agate was a very unusual woman to Sion.