She was still beautiful. Still pitiable.

The only facts anyone could gather about Liana were that she’d grown up in a small southern village in Marlheine, that her mother had worked as a nanny for a noble family—which explained her polished manners and high level of education—and that she spoke little and disliked talking about herself.

That was all. Even those few details had either come directly from Liana Serpens herself, or were nothing more than rumors someone else had invented. No one could find a single person who’d grown up with her, or anyone from her supposed village.

Eclace’s eyes narrowed as he listened to Bannern’s report.

“The period where her whereabouts are especially unclear is, roughly…”

“About seven or eight years ago.”

Bannern’s report was cut short as Eclace finished his sentence for him.

“…That’s right.”

A faint, satisfied curve tugged at the corner of the young viscount’s crimson lips. Bannern fell silent before Eclace, who seemed to have already pieced together much of the situation.

It seemed Eclace had a theory of his own.

After a moment’s contemplation, Eclace spoke again.

“…Tell me, have I ever mentioned my first love?”

The question was uncharacteristically sentimental for Eclace, and Bannern blinked in surprise.

“I believe you once said she was beautiful… and pitiful.”

Bannern recalled the one time Eclace had brought it up, tossing it out offhandedly over drinks. It had seemed so casual, Bannern couldn’t be sure if it was genuine or just a way to hide his true feelings.

Either way, it was rare for Eclace Vitel to speak of personal emotions, so Bannern remembered the story well.

Confirming Bannern’s memory, Eclace let out a soft chuckle.

“That’s right. Beautiful, and pitiful.”

Somehow, she still seemed the same. Still beautiful, still pitiable.

“Well done. You can go.”

With that, Eclace dismissed Bannern as if there was nothing more he needed to hear. Even after Bannern left, Eclace sat for a long while, poring over the documents on Liana.

‘Of course… There’s no way my eyes could be wrong.’

A faint smile played at his red lips.

Eclace Vitel prided himself on having the sharpest memory in the entire empire. He could spot a royal guard he’d glimpsed only in passing, years later, stationed at a border post, and remember him perfectly. He recalled the minutiae others overlooked: their habits, their distinguishing features—every detail, vividly.

That was Eclace Vitel’s greatest weapon.

There’d been a time he’d recognized a marquis in disguise at a gambling table and struck a deal to keep his secret. Another time, he’d caught a rival merchant’s servant posing as a junior worker in his own trading company and turned the situation to his advantage.

‘I thought maybe—just maybe—it couldn’t be true this time… but it really was…’

Eclace gazed intently at the dossier marked ‘Liana Serpens,’ lost in thought. He’d believed that someone who was dead could never come back. He’d tried to convince himself it was just someone who happened to resemble her, or that he was only seeing what he wanted to see.

But he had been right. No one—not even his spies—had managed to uncover how Luise Ideana had changed her name to Liana Serpens and survived. Still, he was certain. He trusted his own eyes.

Lost in thought, he slowly rolled a gold coin across the table and murmured,

“How should I play this to get the most out of it…?”

Unfortunately for everyone else, he was a businessman to the core. Maximum profit for minimal cost—that was his way. Even his first love was no different from a coin to be acquired and traded as he pleased.

Leisurely, Eclace glanced out the window. In the distance, he could see Shed Lester among his knights. This time, it looked like the stakes would be higher than ever.

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

“A bet…?”

Shed lifted his eyes from the documents, glancing at Eclace, who sat across from him.

Eclace nodded, sipping his tea with an easy smile.

“Yes. It seems Faradel has grown lively again lately, don’t you think?”

He crossed his legs and tilted his lips into a gentle curve. Eclace had a keen ear and was always quick to pick up on any excitement in the estate.

“You pay attention to the maids’ wagers now?”

“It depends on what the wager is about.”

Eclace replied smoothly. Shed’s eyes narrowed. For Eclace to bring up the servants’ gossip all the way here, there had to be something more to it.

“So, what are they betting on?”

Shed feigned indifference, lowering his gaze back to the documents.

“They’ve put three months’ wages on whether Miss Liana Serpens will end up in your bed first—or leave House Lester first.”

Shed’s hand stilled over the documents.

“Liana Serpens?”

For that name alone, Shed’s previously indifferent head lifted.

Eclace, watching the proud duke’s reaction with interest, nodded.

“Two maids started it, but now others have joined in and the stakes have gotten rather high.”

Shed toyed with the edge of the papers, lost in thought. Born a slave, Shed understood all too well how important such trivial gossip and wagers were for the servants. Without even these small, petty amusements, it would be impossible to endure the endless, grinding monotony of their lives.

The fact that the servants would place such a vulgar bet on their own master was irritating, but if you went around punishing every servant who whispered about their superiors, there’d be no one left to run the household. So Shed had no intention of reacting to every trivial or petty thing that went on beneath him. Still—

“Why Liana Serpens, of all people?”

He couldn’t help but be bothered by the subject of the bet.

“You’re not really asking because you don’t know, are you?”

Eclace replied, his tone easy and relaxed. Shed pressed his lips together in silence. He knew. He wasn’t so foolish as to be oblivious to the way Liana was isolated among the Lester household staff. And as for the reason…

“Eclace. Do I come across as favoring Liana Serpens?”

Shed’s voice was thoughtful as he mulled over the bet. Eclace’s eyes narrowed with a strange glint.

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever shown favoritism.”

Shed answered, propping his chin on his hand and speaking with sincerity.

Eclace looked genuinely dumbfounded for a moment, lost for words.

“You’ve never… shown favoritism?”

“That’s right.”

Shed’s reply was firm, though Eclace clearly didn’t believe him.

In truth, there was nothing good about the relationship between Shed and Liana. Shed thought of the woman who always wore a somber face in his presence—someone who seemed to shrink away as if just being near him was punishment.

At times, she looked as though she was struggling not to cry, biting down hard on her red lips just to hold herself together. It irritated him.

He had never once seen Liana Serpens smile in his presence. She never laughed around him. The two of them were not the kind of people who could share laughter together, nor could they reveal the tears hidden deep within their hearts to each other.

If anything, he wanted to keep Liana clenched in his grasp until the very air left her lungs, desperate as she was to escape him.

Love?

How could he attach such a pure word to a relationship like this?

People glanced over their relationship, saw only the surface, and labeled it as they pleased. But Eclace clearly had his own ideas.

“If I remember right, you brought Miss Liana here yourself, didn’t you?”

Eclace pointed out that Shed’s actions had been highly unusual—he’d never gone to the trouble of bringing a maid back in person before.

“As I said, she’s just a maid. Nothing more.”

Shed replied, dismissing the suggestion as he turned his eyes back to the documents in front of him.

It had never been for the reasons people imagined.

It had been eight years. Eight years for his hatred of Ideana to accumulate, for the bitterness to fester. How could he simply leave her behind after all that?

“I heard that you personally treated Miss Liana’s wounds when she was bitten by the dog.”

“You’re mistaken.”

Shed’s lips twisted in disbelief. To be perfectly clear, Shed had never treated Liana kindly—if anything, he’d been rude, even harsh. Anyone who looked at that and called it love had to be out of their mind.

“And wasn’t it because of her that Head Maid Caroline was dismissed?”

“That punishment was for Caroline’s own wrongdoing.”

He had never given the head maid permission to lay a hand on her subordinates. Even if the person Caroline had slapped that day hadn’t been Liana but someone else, he would have intervened just the same.

As someone who had once been a slave himself, Shed despised those who abused their power over others.

Eclace spun a gold coin on the table, an amused smile on his face.

“And going all the way to Brillon, setting fire to the port, and bringing her back?”

The coin glittered sharply as it spun, steady beneath his fingertips.

Shed frowned at the frivolous gesture, lifting his head.

“I was after a runaway.”

It was the same as tracking down a fugitive. Anyone who committed a serious crime and ran deserved to be hunted down by any means necessary. That’s what Liana was to Shed.

If he let her go, he’d be setting her free for good—so of course, he had no choice but to chase her down with everything he had.

“That does make sense.”

Eclace conceded, nodding as he deftly caught the spinning coin.

Shed was emphatic: he did not love Liana.

Eclace picked up his teacup, the crimson liquid swirling within. It suited him just fine.

‘I’ve been as polite as I possibly could, Shed Lester.’

If Shed insisted so fervently, then Eclace had nothing to lose. He took a sip of the warm, faintly bitter tea.

Opportunities to deal with a foolish man like Shed Lester didn’t come often—he couldn’t let such a golden chance slip through his fingers as a merchant.

Having made up his mind, Eclace quietly set down his teacup, eyes curving into a gentle arc.

“Then, what do you think the outcome of the maids’ wager will be, Your Grace?”

He extended his hand, gold coin nestled in his palm.

Heads or tails.

The outcome would be decided by his hand.