“It’s nothing special. I happened to be free anyway.”

“That’s fortunate. How are you finding your stay?”

“It’s comfortable.”

Rizel responded in a matter-of-fact tone. Vivian took a sip of tea before casually probing her.

“I heard from the maid that the Marchioness of Darkus has mostly stayed in the guest room reading books. You’re not as active as I expected.”

“Ah, I just wanted to rest while maintaining the dignity of an invited guest. Please don’t worry about it.”

“I see.”

The Marchioness Carter’s gentle smile was quite steadfast. The Dowager sat with her back straight and her lips stubbornly sealed. Looking at her, it was impossible to tell whether she had come willingly or had been reluctantly included.

Rizel sipped her tea while alternately examining the two noblewomen, then asked directly:

“So, what’s the reason for this gathering?”

“With the men away from the mansion, I wanted to have a casual chat among women. I also have some questions for the Marchioness of Darkus.”

“Ah, I understand. Please speak freely.”

Rizel nodded calmly. She planned to endure and deflect whatever might be said at this meeting. Vivian, with a gentle smile, subtly probed her:

“Do you truly love the Marquis of Darkus?”

“Yes, of course.”

Rizel affirmed without batting an eye. According to her agreement with her employer, they had to maintain the appearance of love. Vivian flinched briefly before quickly returning to her composed demeanor.

“Well, then let me change the question. Do you think the Marquis of Darkus truly loves you?”

“Yes.”

Of course not. Rizel swallowed her true thoughts and deliberately placed her hand on her cheek, smiling broadly.

Isabella reflexively frowned then relaxed her expression, while Vivian gave her a peculiar look.

“…That’s surprising. Honestly, when I heard the Marchioness of Darkus was a mercenary, I thought you married with different intentions.”

“Well, that’s possible. Some people criticize mercenaries as uneducated brutes who rely only on strength, know nothing of honor, and chase only money. Of course, I admit I prefer using force and like money to some extent.”

Rizel shrugged and responded nonchalantly. Faced with such candid attitude, Vivian was momentarily speechless, which prompted the Dowager to interject:

“So you married that person with pure intentions?”

Her voice was quite cold, deliberately using a pronoun rather than mentioning her son’s name, as if she didn’t even want to acknowledge him.

Rizel silently nodded. Vivian sighed and looked at her with eyes full of pity, like watching a moth flying toward a burning flame.

“Marchioness Darkus, I don’t want to say this, but… there’s a high possibility that the Marquis of Darkus’s love isn’t genuine. What will you do if you’re being used?”

“Well, it was my choice, so I’ll have to deal with it. More than that, I’m curious why the Marchioness Carter would say such things.”

Despite her playful tone, her blue eyes gleamed sharply like a well-honed sword. Though she wasn’t releasing any energy, it came across as somewhat intimidating to Vivian, who had no martial power.

Vivian’s hand tightened on the teacup handle. She struggled to maintain her composure as she replied:

“I’m concerned. That position is difficult to endure with the power of love alone. It must be arduous for a mercenary with abilities and a free-spirited nature to be bound as a noblewoman.”

“Are you worried about me?”

The corners of Rizel’s lips turned up slightly, finding this situation somewhat interesting. Sensing the amusement in her voice, Vivian answered kindly:

“It depends on how you think about it. Depending on the Marchioness of Darkus’s feelings, my words could be heard as concern, or as roundabout mockery.”

“Ah, I see. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Rizel responded moderately. In the original work, Vivian had briefly offered advice to Parsene, who was sharing love with Harzen, but it wasn’t this explicit.

‘Perhaps it’s because my situation is different from Parsene’s.’

She had married her employer, but their love narrative was thin. Moreover, she could have chosen a different path rather than becoming a noblewoman. In many ways, her situation was the opposite of the female protagonist in the original work.

Isabella’s cold voice broke the awkward silence:

“If the reason for marriage is love, it will be difficult, and if you promised to receive compensation from that person, it will certainly be a loss.”

“Hmm, the Dowager’s assessment of my husband is quite harsh.”

“I’ve seen enough over the years. That person is not someone capable of loving anyone. I’m giving you sincere advice—if the Marchioness of Darkus truly loves him, it would be better to let go of those feelings.”

Isabella explained cynically and snorted. She seemed genuinely concerned about Harzen as a dangerous element, but her advice was meaningless to Rizel. She waved her hand dismissively.

“I’ll handle that myself. Is that all that concerns you?”

“No. Do you know that he is a spirit contractor?”

“Yes, of course.”

Rizel nodded. They were both spirit contractors, albeit with different attributes.

Isabella narrowed her eyes at the young noblewoman who exuded a relaxed atmosphere, showing no signs of disturbance.

“And you went ahead with the marriage knowing the danger?”

“Yes. I’m confident I can handle it. That’s hardly a flaw when you’re with someone you love.”

“How reckless. Personally, I think spirits are no different from ghostly monsters.”

Isabella frowned openly. She seemed to dislike them even more than was described in the shallow original work.

‘Those are words that would sadden any spirit contractor who heard them. It’s fortunate I didn’t summon Nix.’

She was accustomed to negative reactions toward spirit contractors, but her partner would likely have been offended and might have tried to display its power. Rizel showed no reaction and responded indifferently:

“Ah, I see.”

“The Marchioness of Darkus seems unaware, but spirits are dangerous beings. They manipulate people and lead them to ruin. Spirit contractors who contract with them are no different from minions controlled by monsters.”

“Are you saying my husband is included in that?”

Rizel’s gaze turned sharp. She deliberately showed an edgy response, but the Dowager, who had lost her husband because of her second son, smiled distortedly and spewed bitter words:

“Yes, why not? That person killed his own father. Can there be any guarantee he won’t kill his wife too? It would be fortunate if he doesn’t cause another spirit rampage during your married life.”

“Mother, that’s…”

“Be quiet, Vivian. The Marchioness of Darkus should know what she needs to know.”

Isabella firmly cut off her daughter-in-law’s words.

Rizel gave a hollow laugh at the scene, which resembled a farce. She understood they were deliberately provoking her, but she felt sorry for her employer regardless of their contract. She spoke bluntly:

“You don’t need to worry about that. I have enough power myself, and I know how to respond appropriately to dangerous situations since I also have acquaintances who are spirit contractors.”

“What do you—”

Just as the Dowager was frowning and about to continue, Rizel deliberately hardened her expression.

“Let’s stop here. I joined this conversation out of courtesy since you’re my husband’s family, but this is unpleasant.”

“Marchioness Darkus.”

“I never expected this tea time to be an occasion for speaking ill of my husband. Unfortunately, I’m not someone who can tolerate such behavior. Please don’t be any more disrespectful.”

The two noblewomen’s mouths shut firmly in response to Rizel’s assertive demeanor. In the uncomfortable silence that followed, Vivian, who was effectively in charge of the tea time, was the first to bow her head and apologize.

“Marchioness Darkus, I’m sorry.”

“That’s enough. Please be more careful next time.”

“Yes.”

The tea time ended with the Marchioness Carter’s response. In the end, the Dowager kept her mouth shut until the end, but Rizel didn’t care.

After exchanging appropriate farewells with the two noblewomen and returning to her guest room, Rizel sat on the bed and pondered the conversation from the tea time when a question suddenly occurred to her.

‘Come to think of it, it’s a bit strange. My employer’s energy seems quite stable, so why was it so unstable in the original work?’

Rizel tilted her head in confusion. Her employer had even directly told her that his spirit’s energy hadn’t fluctuated that severely since his childhood.

‘Could it be related to Parsene?’

There’s a saying that to heal, there must be a wound. But unless she became directly involved with the female protagonist, she had no way of knowing about that aspect.

* * *

Harzen returned only when night fell. Rizel sat next to her employer on the sofa in the dimly lit guest room. Looking at his still neat and handsome face, she spoke first:

“Did you finish your work?”

“Yes, it ended faster than expected.”

“That’s good.”

Harzen nodded at Rizel’s businesslike response and changed the subject.

“I heard you had tea time with my mother and sister-in-law during the day. Was everything alright?”

“Well, the atmosphere wasn’t as hostile as I expected, but the conversation content was a bit…”

Unlike her usual self, Rizel trailed off and clutched the hem of her dress. She couldn’t bring herself to say that the conversation had mostly consisted of speaking ill of him, especially to the person concerned. Moreover, he was her employer.

Harzen smiled amiably and poked her cheek with his finger.

“Why, was I the main topic of that conversation?”