Ian turned his head towards her, puzzled by her sudden remark.

Estella spoke evenly, her tone calm yet carrying a faint hint of mischief.

“I don’t recall you mentioning that men were part of the people I should be cautious about.”

Realizing it was one of her subtle jests rather than a serious rebuke, Ian’s lips curved faintly.

“Ah, well. The people to be wary of can be identified by one key factor: how many marriage proposals they make.”

In other words, it wasn’t a breach of contract.

Estella gave a quiet, amused laugh.

“Is that so? I’m not sure… Henry seems just about ready to propose.”

Ian faltered, lowering his gaze in faint embarrassment. At that moment, a man and a woman appeared from the opposite corridor, accompanied by a child walking between them.

“Apologies for keeping you waiting!”

For a brief moment, Estella’s eyes turned cold.

‘The Black Widow?’

✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘

The Black Widow — Margaret Redgrave.

Margaret Redgrave, also known as the Black Widow, was a notorious seductress from the southern region of Milla. Like the spider for which she was named, she was as beautiful as she was dangerous. Using her alluring charm, she would lure men in, spinning invisible webs of sweet lies and fatal temptation.

Unaware of the trap tightening around them, her victims would helplessly fall in love and be stripped bare — not only of their defenses, but of everything they owned, down to their last holey sock — before narrowly escaping her grasp.

There were so many victims that, if their names were carved on headstones, she could have filled an entire graveyard.

‘What on earth is a woman like that doing here?’

And right beside Baron Maynard’s eldest son, no less.

Estella’s gaze drifted forward again.

“Henry was so fascinated back then,” said Baroness Maynard. “Even now, he can recite the principles behind your patented technology with his eyes closed!”

“Hoho. I’ve only been with this family for half a year, and even I know all about it,” said the woman beside her, laughing lightly.

Estella fixed her eyes on the speaker.

‘She changed her hairstyle and her speech pattern.’

But her vivid red hair, dark beauty mark and sharp, cat-like eyes were impossible to disguise.

Estella was certain.

The foreign woman who was currently introducing herself as Rosalyn Langley and who was romantically involved with Arthur Maynard, the baron’s eldest son, was none other than the Black Widow, Margaret Redgrave.

But how could Estella be so sure?

She had been hired multiple times to track that woman down. Her investigations had taken her all over the Milla region, from village to village. In fact, she had only reached the small town where Baron Vansen lived because her pursuit of Margaret had taken her all the way north.

‘I searched all over Milla for her, and she was hiding here this whole time.’

Honestly, she would never have imagined that the infamous woman would settle in Croan territory right in the heart of the capital.

‘I thought someone with that much sin on her hands would at least avoid the big cities.’

The thought made Estella let out a small, self-mocking laugh.

‘Then again… I’m not one to talk.’

At that moment, Ian topped up her half-empty glass with wine. His quiet eyes met hers, silently asking if something was wrong.

Estella smiled faintly and blinked slowly to signal that she would explain later.

Understanding, Ian turned his attention forward again. Estella followed suit, her expression composed but her thoughts as sharp as ever.

‘Baron Maynard’s household… and the Black Widow.’

‘It would be best to observe for now.’

With that thought, Estella quietly moved her knife, but Baroness Maynard soon turned to her with a bright expression.

“Come to think of it, I heard your family is originally from the Arti region, Baroness?”

Perhaps thinking that Estella had been excluded from the conversation, the Baroness smoothly changed the subject so as to include her.

“Yes.”’

“Rosalyn is from Arti as well. How nice!”

At that, the baron’s eldest son who had inherited his father’s mild, guileless nature smiled sheepishly.

“Mother, even people born in the same city often don’t know each other. I’m not sure being from the same province means much.”

“Still, you never know. They might have grown up in the same town.”

Rosalyn quickly added with a charming smile.

“Perhaps so. May I ask where your hometown is, Baroness? I’m from Tiron.”

Tiron.

That was in northern Arti, the farthest place possible from the Black Widow’s usual territory.

Estella studied her for a moment before setting down her knife.

“Firenna.”

“Oh, Firenna—yes, that’s a small village in central Arti, isn’t it?”

“I’m surprised you know it. It’s such a small village, I thought you wouldn’t have heard of it.”

The woman who called herself Rosalyn interjected smoothly, her tone as graceful as ever.

“I’ve heard of it, though it’s quite far from where I’m from.”

“I see.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that the northern and central regions of Arti are quite different. In the north, people prefer milder food, but enjoy strong liquor. In contrast, I’ve heard that those in the central and southern regions like saltier food and drink less. Is that true?”

As she spoke, effortlessly showing off her supposed knowledge, the baron’s eldest son gazed at her with open admiration. Even the baroness seemed pleased with her prospective daughter-in-law, her smile never leaving her face.

‘This is troublesome.’

Everyone at the table seemed to like that woman, everyone except Estella.

‘I can’t make a move too soon.’

So, she decided to probe just a little.

“But Milla is different, isn’t it? Take Casalin, for instance. It’s in the south, yet people there still prefer salty food.”

Flinch.

When Estella suddenly mentioned the Black Widow’s hometown, like a surprise strike, Rosalyn’s hand trembled ever so slightly. Estella didn’t miss that fleeting moment.

“And the people there don’t usually enjoy drinking, unlike those in southern Arti, isn’t that right?”

Her casual question hung in the air, and for a brief instant, silence brushed across the table.

“Haha… why ask her that of all things?”

The baron’s eldest son jumped in awkwardly, forcing a laugh.

Estella slowly blinked once, feigning mild embarrassment.

“Oh, I only asked because she seemed so knowledgeable about the region.”

At that, Ian’s gaze deepened, as though he had caught on to something beneath the exchange. And before the tension could linger, he smoothly interjected.

“Estella, we’re here to enjoy dinner, not a debate.”

His playful, half-reproachful tone lightened the atmosphere immediately.

Baroness Maynard laughed softly.

“Hoho, I was starting to worry I’d be the next one questioned. Thank you for saving me, Sir Wyndham.”

The dinner resumed. Everyone returned to their food and wine as though nothing had happened yet beneath the table, an uncomfortable truth had quietly buried itself.

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Later That Evening

Dinner ended earlier than expected. Usually, there would have been music, card games or drinks after the meal, but with two children present, the evening came to a close at the table.

The three of them — Ian, Estella and Ayla — returned to Ian’s townhouse.

After putting Ayla to bed, Estella quietly went to the kitchen on the ground floor. At some point, their late-night chats had naturally shifted from the study to the kitchen.

“Do you know the woman named Rosalyn Langley?”

Ian didn’t ask why she had acted that way earlier. Instead, he went straight to the heart of it—to Rosalyn Langley.

Estella looked at him for a moment before lowering her gaze.

“I’m sorry for being rude at dinner.”

“There must’ve been a reason.”

“……”

‘What is it with him?’

That unwavering trust, so effortless, so unreasonable always caught her off guard.

“…Aren’t you worried that I might be wrong?”

“Not particularly.”

The answer came without hesitation.

Estella lifted her eyes to him, searching his face. Her gaze seemed to ask, How can you trust me so easily when you barely know me?

But Ian only set the kettle on the stove, his tone calm and steady.

“Because you’re someone who thinks things through, Estella.”

“……”

The more he spoke, the deeper the maze became. Still, she decided not to press him. There was something far more important to discuss now.

‘The Black Widow.’

That woman. If she was involved with their target, things could become dangerously complicated.

As Estella stepped closer, her eyes settled on the faint flames flickering under the kettle.

“Just before I settled near Baron Vansen’s estate, I received multiple requests to track someone down.”

Since the water hadn’t started boiling yet, Ian turned his full attention to her.

“Her name was Margaret Redgrave. Among mercenaries and bounty hunters, she’s better known as the Black Widow. She traveled all across southern Milla, conning men through marriage scams. And Rosalyn Langley….is Margaret Redgrave.”

“I see.”

It was a response filled with quiet certainty, not a trace of doubt.

Estella blinked, faintly puzzled.

‘He believes me that easily?’

Trust was a good thing but something about his calm acceptance made her uneasy. Like a single grain of sand caught in the eye, it left her vision subtly, persistently disturbed.