“I see.”

‘This would be perfect for a family drama.’

“…You don’t ask.”

After thoroughly drying his teary eyes with the handkerchief, Adollo put it away and narrowed his eyes, which had drooped with age.

‘…Oh no, did he notice my complete lack of interest?’

Sion quietly clicked his tongue. Typically, when someone begins with “that incident three years ago,” suggesting a poignant story, curiosity naturally arises in most people. Except for Sion, who cared about nothing but his own affairs. He particularly detested matters of love and melodrama.

“It seemed like a profound story, and I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate for me to inquire.”

But Sion smoothly countered with an improvised response, as effortlessly as a snake slithering over a wall.

“This isn’t me being loose-lipped. You, who will be caring for the young lady most closely, should know the circumstances to properly gauge how to serve her with complete devotion.”

The old man, whose earlier smooth-talking tearfulness had disappeared, now looked quite serious with a solemn gaze. A spark ignited in his nearly extinguished eyes, as if warning that he would not forgive even the slightest mistake in serving the young lady.

His loyalty and affection for the lady were genuine.

“…I’ll keep that in mind.”

This was exactly the type of person Sion despised. Generally, those who were somewhat lacking, had no values, and were sincere about nothing were easy to handle, while people like the old man before him—with a sense of mission, affection, and solemnity toward something—were troublesome to deal with, so he usually avoided them.

For Sion, who classified people solely as either easy or difficult to swindle, Adollo was a failing grade.

“…Three years ago, Lady Agate’s fiancé went missing. He was traveling by ship to another continent on a business trip to finalize a trade agreement.”

As Adollo began speaking after calming his intense emotions, Sion’s well-groomed expression cracked for the first time. As luck would have it, the story he was about to hear without tears but had been scolded for first contained both love and melodrama—the two things he hated most. It was dreadful.

“Unlike other nobles’ children who were engaged for political reasons, the two truly cared for each other… After hearing of her fiancé’s disappearance, the young lady collapsed miserably. It was as if she became an entirely different person from that day on… She stopped eating and drinking, and her already fragile body was further tormented by illness. Even the most renowned doctors couldn’t help her recover properly, so we came all the way to Ponten hoping a change of environment might improve her condition…”

Adollo’s voice began to crack toward the end. Despite his stern appearance, which suggested not a drop of blood would come out if pricked, he was an old man with surprisingly abundant emotions. Sion handed him a handkerchief one beat ahead.

“Thank you.”

After repeatedly dabbing his eyes with the handkerchief, Adollo sniffled as he blew his nose as well. Watching the crumpling handkerchief, Sion couldn’t help but furrow his brow.

“I’ll wash this and return it to you.”

“…That won’t be necessary. I have plenty of handkerchiefs.”

“I’ve talked too much. The young lady must be waiting. Let’s go.”

Adollo hurried along the remaining ten steps. This was fortunate. Sion didn’t have to respond to that heart-wrenching story. Emotional labor without sincerity was nothing if not exhausting.

‘I thought it might be some extraordinary story, but it’s just a common tale. So, because of the grief of losing her fiancé, she’s been wasting three years in this rural corner…’

If it was a mental illness, she should have consulted the capital’s finest psychiatrist. Sion’s impression of the lady he hadn’t yet met remained unchanged. A woman ignorant of the world who couldn’t manage a single emotion and was wasting her life floundering endlessly in the abyss of depression for years.

What an enviable life.

While this lady occupied a fine mansion all to herself, secluding herself and consuming money and food, others had to work tirelessly without rest to earn enough for tomorrow’s meal. The lady received an allowance from the ducal residence just for breathing, but most people’s livelihoods were threatened if they didn’t work.

Though outside the law, Sion had always worked hard. If someone had become his patron like the lady had, he would have sworn never to touch such troublesome and cumbersome work.

A snapshot of the world’s unfairness was contained within this mansion. While all the servants busily worked to fend for themselves, one corner of the mansion was occupied by someone who had been marinating in her own depression for years, merely receiving others’ service.

Most people didn’t even have the luxury to steep in such depression. As his thoughts reached this point, Sion’s eyes—as brilliant as if infused with verdant foliage—grew cold.

“Remember this: the young lady is distinctly different from any master you’ve served before.”

Having finally reached the lady’s room, Adollo made one last reminder before knocking—the same admonition he had been drilling into Sion’s ear. When Sion responded with obedient eyes, the door opened silently.

“Oh my, it’s the new butler!”

The maid who was with the lady recognized him first. The maid’s eyes lit up as if she had spotted a magnificent jewel upon discovering Sion.

“I’m Daniel.”

“I’m Kanna.”

While Adollo approached the lady to inform her of Sion’s arrival, Sion and the maid named Kanna briefly exchanged greetings.

After greeting the maid, Sion’s gaze swept the surroundings faster than light. The lady’s room had an atmosphere distinctly different from other nobles’ rooms, as if reflecting how deep her sorrow was.

The room was extremely modest, without a single piece of furniture or decoration for luxury or display, containing only the bare minimum necessities. Teal wallpaper that made one wonder if the color had faded, a bed without a canopy, a sofa that seemed high-quality but appeared quite old, an antique-like dressing table, and a few other pieces of furniture were all what the bedroom contained.

For some reason, the desk was placed right in front of the window to catch the sunlight, and the lady was sitting at that desk, staring fixedly out the window.

“Young lady, this is our newly hired butler.”

Adollo, half-bowing, approached the platinum-blonde woman who must be the lady and whispered in her ear. Without turning around, still facing the window, she silently nodded.

“Greetings, Lady Agate. I am Daniel, newly appointed to serve you.”

Making a good first impression was undoubtedly one of Sion’s greatest strengths. He adjusted his glasses, spread his lips in a fan-like smile, and approached Agate. He didn’t forget to include his captivating eye-smile that would entrance anyone who saw it.

“I will serve you with complete devotion.”

Then, as usual, he gently took the woman’s pale, bony hand and kissed the back of it. Adollo flinched, and Kanna, watching from behind, cupped her cheeks and let out a silent exclamation. His brief but intense greeting created an illusion that made him, dressed in butler’s attire, appear like a prince on a white horse.

Agate still said nothing, showed no sign of discomfort, and didn’t even spare Sion a glance.

‘She surely hasn’t done any hard labor, yet her skin is rough.’

This was Sion’s assessment after his lips touched the back of Agate’s hand. Rough skin meant she wasn’t eating properly. Sion, who had bent his knee in greeting, naturally scrutinized Agate thoroughly in an instant.

Whatever was outside that made her stare blankly out the window, Agate’s appearance could only be described as deplorable. Was she trying to convey with her entire body that she was a sick patient?

Sion, who had only seen women who primped from head to toe trying to impress him, struggled to keep his jaw from dropping in shock.

Her long platinum blonde hair, which covered her chest, was so unkempt it resembled a poodle’s fur, and despite the sun being at its zenith, she was still in a white chemise as if she had just woken up.

Her disheveled face, which made it hard to believe she was a noble lady, would be painful to describe in detail. Her hazel eyes, which would have held warmth originally, were cloudy and unfocused, and her cracked, chapped lips were half-parted.

Though no one had made her work through the night, shadows hung heavily under her eyes. Most shockingly, her dry complexion was actually the most decent part of her face.

Even at a glance, her appearance, clearly engulfed in depression, was most appalling because of her expression. A chilling blank face devoid of thought or emotion.

It was an expression that seemed to mock Sion, who prided himself on his disinterest in others, as if telling him that to truly not care about the world, one had to be at least this detached.