After taking a sip of the bitter tea, Lucas swallowed a sigh. For him, who rarely had a proper breakfast, the food on the table was merely a task to be dealt with.

No, if it were a ‘real’ task, it wouldn’t be as agonizing as this.

He put down the teacup and began forcing himself to eat the soup. Despite the chef’s effort to make it soft to suit his palate, the soup did not go down his throat easily.

Noticing this, Bushin spoke with a concerned expression.

“The late master always had a hearty breakfast, just like an evening feast.”

“…Well, I suppose I take after my mother in terms of appetite.”

Lucas tore off a piece of bread, dipped it in the soup, and put it in his mouth, responding in an indifferent tone. Suddenly, silence fell in the room.

Expressions of bewilderment and discomfort crossed the faces of the butler and the head maid. Seeing their expressions, he waved his hand.

“There’s no need for that. What’s wrong with talking about someone who’s been gone for a long time? If anything, it’s fortunate to be able to remember them, even if it’s just for a moment like this.”

“…Yes, that’s true.”

The butler was the first to speak among the two. It was only natural, as the head maid had joined the household after the death of Lucas’ mother.

The head maid had no memories of the late mistress, so she had little to say in response.

“Alright, you can clear this now. I’m done.”

Lucas finished his tea and stood up. The soup and bread, more than half remaining, were cleared away by the head maid.

He turned towards the mirror to tidy his appearance. Not long after, the butler approached to attend to his clothing. The reflection in the mirror showed a somber expression on Bushin’s face.

“I seem to have brought up an unnecessary topic.”

“No, Mr Lucas. It was perfectly reasonable for you to say that. …It’s just that thinking of the late Madam weighs heavily on my heart.”

The aged butler’s voice momentarily sank. This was his usual reaction whenever Stella Taylor, the late mistress and Lucas’ mother, was mentioned.

“Thank you, Bushin, for remembering my mother this way.”

After Bushin handed him the cuffs, Lucas addressed his reflection in the mirror.

“Oh, no, not at all. Ahem. By the way, are you satisfied with the cuffs?”

The butler, seemingly embarrassed by the praise from his master, deflected the conversation with a throat clearing.

“I’ve been trying my best to keep up with the latest fashion trends, but I’m still worried that my old eyes might end up choosing something unsuitable for you, Mr Lucas.”

“I like them. Bushin, you don’t need to worry about that. If I can’t trust your judgment, whose judgment can I trust?”

Lucas responded with a hint of laughter in his tone as he displayed the cuffs on his sleeve. It was not just a polite remark, but he truly meant it.

“But still… Ahem.”

Bushin’s lips twitched, seemingly not displeased by the praise from his master. Then, with a slightly more comfortable expression, he continued.

“It would be better if a beautiful lady were to choose them for you, rather than this old butler.”

“…Bushin.”

Lucas furrowed his brow and shook his head, anticipating where the butler’s words were leading.

“I’m not immediately suggesting you get married, Mr Lucas. Since they will be the mistress of the Taylor household, it requires careful consideration. But wouldn’t you at least consider meeting a lady? Perhaps Countess Dalton, for example…”

“Why on earth is Jiana Dalton’s name coming up? I’ve told you many times that I have no relationship with her.”

Lucas frowned at the mention of the ‘Dalton’ name by the butler.

Jiana Dalton was simply the daughter of a family with which his father had acquaintance. There was nothing more to their relationship.

However, since she had occasionally visited this place by using the friendship between her father, Baron Dalton, and Lucas’ father as an excuse, it seemed Bushin had misunderstood something.

“Bushin, I consider you like family.”

“…I’m sorry, Mr Lucas.”

“But that doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate you interfering in my personal life.”

“I-I never had such an intention, sir.”

“Of course, I know you didn’t mean it that way. It’s out of concern for me, just like a parent worried about their grown child idling without a thought of marriage. Ah! Not that I’m idling, of course.”

Lucas added a joke to reassure the butler, who looked like he might faint. Realizing that his master had misunderstood, the color began to return to Bushin’s face.

‘Should I drop a hint?’

He continued, thinking about the old man who always worried about him.

“And Bushin, the thing you’ve been hoping for will happen soon, so don’t be impatient.”

“…Pardon?”

The butler automatically responded, then raised his voice unintentionally. If it had been any other employee, Lucas would have scolded them severely.

However, Bushin, unaware of his own mistake, widened his wrinkled eyes. He knew his hearing had deteriorated with age, but he couldn’t believe he was even hearing things.

“M-Mr Lu… Lucas, I think I may have misheard something. Could you please repeat it?”

“If you heard that I have a woman I’m going to marry, then you heard correctly, Bushin.”

“…!”

The butler’s eyes widened. At the same time, a soft murmur of ‘Oh my’ was heard from the head maid, who was standing to the side clearing the table. Lucas glanced at the butler and the head maid in turn, then turned back towards the mirror, feeling a bit awkward.

The reflection showed his ears had reddened.

* * *

“…Ah, I made another mistake.”

Giselle, reviewing the ledger, buried her head in her hands. Her colleague, sitting next to her, glanced over and asked a question.

“You hardly ever make mistakes, but you’ve been making them nonstop since this morning. How many times now?”

“Hmm… seven, no, eight times, I think.”

She corrected the erroneous part and put down the pen, then pressed her temples with her hands. Her head was throbbing, perhaps from lack of sleep.

…Or maybe for a different reason.

Her colleague, unaware of the situation, asked again with renewed curiosity.

“You’re really off today. Are you not feeling well? You look a bit pale.”

“No, I just couldn’t sleep well.”

Her colleague was not the type to dismiss or gossip about Giselle for being a woman. Instead, he was a curious person who would keep asking questions until his curiosity was satisfied.

True to form, he asked another question, not satisfied with her response.

“Why?”

“Some crazy guy was rampaging in my dream.”

Giselle responded in a nonchalant tone, and her colleague laughed as if he had heard a joke. But for her, it was the truth.

Lucas Taylor.

The man who dropped the bombshell of proposing marriage to her was the reason she couldn’t sleep.

Seemingly satisfied with the explanation, her colleague began focusing on his work. Giselle also picked up her pen to review the ledger again.

“…Hmm.”

But it didn’t last long. It was because of a certain man constantly intruding among the numbers in the ledger.

‘Move aside, you damn senior.’

She shook her head to shake off the distracting thoughts. In that moment, the pen tip trembled, and a blob of ink dropped.

“Ah!”

Before she could stop it, a large ink stain spread across the ledger.

“Ugh…”

Giselle sighed and picked up the sponge placed on the edge of the desk.

Dab. Dab.

As she pressed the sponge on the dark stain, her eyes slowly drifted upwards.

She didn’t have the ability to see through the ceiling or anything. But somehow, she could picture Lucas calmly working on the third-floor office, as if nothing had happened.

As if he hadn’t kept her awake all night.

‘I couldn’t sleep at all, and he’s just relaxing like nothing’s wrong.’

“…Tch.”

Giselle pouted her lips in an irritated expression, then quickly composed herself. She was afraid someone might notice her and realize she had some ‘understanding’ with Lucas.

Of course, no one could even imagine such a thing.

Not even his secretary, who was essentially his right-hand, seemed to have noticed anything.

‘Well, even I wouldn’t have noticed if I were in their shoes. Who would ever imagine that there’s something between me and a man who greets me so indifferently?’

Giselle recalled her encounter with Lucas at the building entrance that morning.

“Ah, g-good morning, President.”

“Good morning, Miss Anticia.”

Seeing Lucas entering with his secretary, Giselle had frozen in her tracks. And she had stammered a greeting with a foolish expression.

Yet, Lucas received her greeting with complete composure, then continued his conversation with the secretary, passing by her.

As if she was the only one feeling nervous and self-conscious.

‘This is so unfair. Even if I didn’t agree to marry him out of love.’

She had expected even he, who had agreed to the marriage that was worth 80 million larcs, to at least acknowledge her presence in some way, even if not to the same degree as her. She thought he would at least exchange a knowing glance with her, something only the two of them could understand.