“The carriage should be here soon. It’s loaded with clothes, jewels, and enough food to feed a hundred people, so—well, maybe you could throw a party.”

Benian made the suggestion with an air of condescension, as though bestowing a favor.

At that, Laska’s gaze turned cold once more. Benian, flinching under the sting of it, glanced away—only to startle when his eyes met Laska’s again, this time framed by a dazzling smile.

“W-what?”

A terrifyingly handsome man was smiling at Benian, but there was something about his face that sent a chill down his spine. Muttering under his breath about the castle’s poor insulation, Benian forced himself to look away from Laska’s stare.

‘What kind of man ends up in a place like this?’

“Then should we invite the villagers and hold a festival?”

“What?”

Benian’s reaction was one of pure disbelief. He hadn’t expected his careless words to be seized upon so readily.

“Wait, Selaia. Are you saying that you want to spend all that feeding commoners?

“Why, Benian? Is there some reason it would trouble you?”

Her face, open and guileless, left him at a loss for words. He shut his mouth with a sour expression before finally releasing an irritable sigh.

“Fine. Throw a festival, start a charity, do as you please. The carriage should arrive tomorrow anyway.”

Selaia studied him for a moment, finding his reluctant compliance unsatisfying, but then nodded with composure.

“Very well. I’ll have a room prepared for you. Rest here until then.”

Once she had left, Laska leaned against the wall with a casual slant, his eyes fixed on Benian.

Instinctively shrinking beneath the silent weight of that presence, Benian quickly remembered that he was the Marquis’s heir and forced his shoulders back.

“You there! Your gaze has been rather insolent for some time now. Do you not know how to behave in the presence of a noble?”

“My apologies if I’ve made you uncomfortable, Lord Benian.”

Laska’s tone was soft and courteous. The voice was so impeccably polite that Benian began to wonder whether the impression he’d gotten earlier had only been his imagination.

“It must be that I’ve never met a true noble before. My admiration must have made it difficult to look away.”

As he spoke, his eyes curved into a smile. His pale, flawless face carried an aura that, somehow, felt impossible to resist.

“Hmph. If you’ve been holed up in this remote area for a long time, it makes sense that this would be your first time seeing a central noble.”

Yes—those eyes must have been filled with nothing more than the wonder of seeing a true noble.

‘After all, Selaia’s little more than a countrywoman now.’

Pressed by a weight he couldn’t quite explain, Benian turned his head away. Perhaps it was nothing more than a flimsy excuse made to comfort himself.

Having finished his own hollow victory of reason, Benian casually opened his mouth again.

“You—you’re the captain of the guard here, aren’t you? Is it true you’re the only one actually serving in that role?”

“I’m afraid I cannot disclose information regarding the castle’s defenses.”

Laska politely evaded the question.

Benian’s voice took on a coaxing note, as though frustrated yet trying to persuade.

“Come now, Selaia is my cousin. Can’t I ask, out of concern for my elder sister’s safety?”

‘If he truly worried for his cousin, he wouldn’t have left her in this borderland alone for five years.’

Despite feeling cold inside, Laska remained courteous. His kindly smile made it clear that he wasn’t going to answer any more questions. Benian’s expression twisted at the wall of silence, but there was nothing more he could do.

When Selaia explained that Benian had brought an abundance of gifts, both Elaine and Vera were sceptical. However, to their surprise, his words proved true by the next morning.

“My goodness, this is properly cured ham! They say it’s from the Nazar region.”

“This fabric looks to be from the eastern provinces. It must have cost a fortune.”

The carriage that arrived in front of the castle that morning was laden with food, jewels, and fine cloth, just as Benian had claimed.

Elaine and Vera were too busy marveling at the bounty to think of anything else, while Selaia was still left bewildered.

‘Did Benian really prepare all this…?’

She hadn’t fully believed his boast that there was enough food to feed a hundred people. She had only hoped it might be enough to share around. But when she saw the carriage packed with provisions and necessities, she couldn’t help but feel both glad and deeply perplexed.

“Mother.”

Just then, Rote—who had risen early—came outside, rubbing her eyes. Laska followed close behind.

“Rote, you’re awake?”

Selaia bent down to press a kiss to her daughter’s cheek as the girl ran into her arms.

“What is all this?”

Rote blinked drowsily, forcing her eyes open with slow, heavy blinks.

Selaia stroked her daughter’s hair as she answered.

“Your Uncle Benian prepared it all. He brought us a carriage full of gifts after so long.”

“Ah, Benian Tran…”

Rote’s hazy gaze sharpened.

“I remember what he wrote in his letters. He asked how much Cheringen would be worth if it were sold and offered to act as a broker.”

“W-well, yes. Your uncle takes an interest in financial matters.”

Flustered, Selaia stepped in to excuse Benian’s materialistic behavior.

“I see. So he likes putting a price on things.”

Rote’s reply was flat and almost lifeless in its detachment. Hearing that jaded, world-weary tone — far too mature for a child — Selaia could only smile helplessly. In moments like these, she felt as though her daughter could see straight through every adult’s hidden motives.

“Oh, has the carriage already arrived?”

Just then, Benian appeared as if he had overheard us discussing him. The faint scent of morning air on his collar suggested that he had been outside.

Rote regarded him strangely, and when he noticed her, he wore an equally strange expression.

“Rote, you should greet your uncle.”

“Hello.”

Rote gave a quick bow from the waist but kept her chin lifted, staring hard at Benian. The attitude bordered on insolent, but Benian, unable to read the child’s expression, only bobbed his head carelessly.

“Oh, right. Last time I saw you, you could hardly walk, and now you’ve grown. Must be because your father was tall, uh?”

“Benian.”

Selaia spoke his name softly. At once, Benian shut his mouth, realizing he had nearly mentioned the emperor.

“My lady.”

It was then that Laska, who had followed Rote outside, called to her gently.

“I hear the carriage is also adorned with jewels and fine fabrics. Why don’t you see if there’s something that would suit your mother?”

“Really?”

A spark of liveliness returned to Rote’s eyes. Well, since it’s here, I might as well make the most of it. Muttering with a determination unbefitting her age, she clenched her tiny fist and marched spiritedly toward the carriage.

Selaia turned to Laska with a look of admiration.

“You really know how to handle Rote, Laska.”

“I thought if I told her to find something for herself, she wouldn’t be interested.”

Laska answered with a bright smile.

Benian, entirely excluded from their shared gaze, cleared his throat with a forced cough.

“So, you really plan to share all that with the people of the estate today?”

“Yes, that’s what I intend.”

Selaia nodded slowly, her green eyes firm with resolve.

“But first, I need to know exactly how you managed to obtain all those things.”

“…What?”

Benian faltered at the unexpected words. His eyes darted this way and that before he finally confessed.

“…In truth, I sold the townhouse.”

“The townhouse?”

Selaia asked again in shock. The Tran marquisate had already lost its lands; all that remained was the townhouse in the capital. And now he had sold even that?

“Then where do you plan to live? What about Uncle and Aunt?”

For impoverished nobles without estates, the townhouse was their last shred of dignity.

‘Uncle agreed to sell the townhouse?’

This was the man who had sent his niece into the palace, despite knowing she would be scorned, just to cling to his position. She remembered how fiercely he had cherished the townhouse.

“Well…”

Benian hesitated, then gave up and blurted it out.

“Not just the townhouse. We sold everything that was left. We’re seeking asylum in Hilbrante. My parents are already there.”

“What?”

Hilbrante was another neighboring empire of Tropez, but one with little exchange. Naturally, the Tran family had no ties there. Why did they flee so suddenly?

“There’s reason enough, isn’t there?”

“That…”

Flustered and on the verge of protest, Selaia fell silent as she realized that his words made sense.

‘For the family of a woman who divorced the emperor, exile would be reason enough.’

“…This wasn’t how I meant to put it.”

Benian scratched the back of his head irritably. Glancing towards the carriage, he lowered his voice.

“Selaia—come with us, to Hilbrante.”