I suddenly realized a heavy scent mixed in the wind. It was similar to the fragrance I’d smelled from him.

I waved my hand vigorously to dispel the smell that reminded me of him. Then a brilliant idea occurred to me.

“Right, you can’t go against fate. Once a connection is established, it’ll be easily achieved with just a little help from the side.”

I smiled broadly for the first time in a while as I made plans for the future. Unaware that someone was watching me from afar.

* * *

Clayton passed through a long corridor and reached a large door carved with ornate patterns. The head butler who had guided him opened the door.

“Please enter. His Majesty the King is waiting.”

Inside, Bastian III, King of Serhart, sat at a desk writing something. Bastian, in his mid-to-late forties, possessed an appearance far younger than his age. His sharp facial features, large nose, and thin lips exuded a decadent atmosphere.

He lifted his eyes from the documents. Brilliantly shining blue eyes pierced through his companion.

“Sit, Clayton.”

Bastian put down his pen and leaned back in his chair. At his invitation, Clayton sat in the single chair placed before the desk. He waited for the King’s questions with an expressionless face.

“I hear you met Count Fraxon’s daughter?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Well, how was she? Was she beautiful?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Did you like her?”

Clayton, who had been answering mechanically, closed his mouth at that question. Bastian examined him closely. A persistent gaze followed, seemingly trying to dig into his inner thoughts.

If an ordinary person had received that gaze, they would have suffered a heart attack on the spot. But Clayton showed no agitation, merely keeping his gaze on the corner of the desk.

Bastian grew secretly anxious watching him remain unyielding. Clayton was becoming increasingly difficult to handle.

Concealing that feeling, Bastian ran his hand through his gray hair swept back. At that gesture, Clayton’s eyes, which had been directed downward, slowly rose.

“I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?”

“Because she’s different from the Lady Charlotte I’ve observed before.”

“Different?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. …But I prefer this Lady more.”

“Whether this side or that side, the conclusion is that you liked the Count’s daughter! Isn’t this the first time you’ve said such a thing?”

“…”

“She must have been more beautiful than Marquis Lorenfort’s daughter Evelyn? Come to think of it, I don’t remember seeing Count Fraxon’s daughter closely. If she had looks enough to captivate you, she would have caught my eye.”

Bastian licked his lips while running his fingertips over his thin mouth. Clayton watched him quietly. A dangerous light briefly appeared in his eyes radiating a cool energy, then disappeared.

“Well, fine. I’ll see her at this ball. Shall we talk business now?”

“It seems likely to be resolved well.”

“We need to track down the source of the rumor carefully.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand why such an absurd rumor even started. There are limits to daring to slander me!”

Unable to contain his anger, Bastian struck the desk.

“Please calm down. Nothing has been confirmed yet.”

“But we already know who did it.”

“We have suspicions but no evidence.”

“You’re so meticulous.”

Bastian clicked his tongue. Then he glanced at Clayton, his nephew.

“You seem unaffected even after hearing that rumor.”

“Because it’s just a rumor.”

Clayton shrugged. His face was simply indifferent, without any doubt or distrust.

“Clayton, you don’t know how reassuring it is to have you.”

“You’re too kind.”

“Good! Let’s solve things one by one. As you said, let’s start by securing evidence first.”

“If they were plotting something, they wouldn’t have left evidence unfavorable to themselves. But they couldn’t erase everything.”

“Right! They must have hidden important materials somewhere. For instance, in a secret safe in the mansion…”

“I think the same.”

“It would be good if someone could enter there and discover things that could serve as evidence. Should we plant a spy?”

“I’m thinking of entering as a spy myself.”

At the King’s suggestion, Clayton answered as though he’d been waiting.

“You?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“How? You can’t just barge in recklessly.”

“I’m thinking of recruiting Count Fraxon’s daughter.”

“Her? In what way?”

When Charlotte Fraxon’s name, which had just been mentioned, came up, Bastian showed curiosity.

“I’m thinking of dating her.”

At the unexpected answer, Bastian’s eyes widened in surprise. Soon after, the King’s laughter burst out loudly in the splendid room.

Having laughed to his heart’s content for the first time in a while, Bastian leaned back in his chair with a satisfied expression.

“Are you planning to marry her or something?”

“That would be good too.”

To the question thrown as a joke, Clayton answered promptly like he’d prepared in advance.

“Really?”

Sensing something unusual, Bastian straightened his leaning back.

“Yes.”

“Ho.”

At the interesting development, Bastian licked his thin lips pathologically. Blatant interest rippled in his blue eyes.

Clayton watched such a King dryly.

“Using Count Fraxon’s daughter as a spy… What a brilliant idea. If you manipulate her well, things will become very easy. But…”

“Speak, Your Majesty.”

“Would she really betray her own father? No matter how disloyal a crime he committed, he’s still her father.”

“I intend to make her do so. I’ve already cast the bait, so I just need to wait for her to bite.”

“But…”

Bastian hesitated with an expression like he had something to say.

“Rest assured. I don’t harbor any feelings for her.”

Whether it was a satisfactory answer, Bastian relaxed his stiff expression and smiled broadly.

“Well thought! Useless emotions only hinder work. Think of women only as something to warm your bed for one night.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Especially for you, emotions are poison. Women? They’re subjects who will destroy you, nothing more, nothing less.”

Bastian spoke like he was implanting it in his brain. Since he’d heard these words his entire life, Clayton automatically nodded. He didn’t bother to show that a corner of his heart felt uncomfortable.

“My beloved nephew, Clayton. After my only sibling died, you’re the only one I rely on now. You know that, right?”

“Of course. Just give any command. I’ll achieve it with all my might.”

Clayton repeated once more the words he’d repeated thousands of times since childhood.

“Good, very good!”

Bastian clapped his hands together hard and shouted loudly. Then he leaned forward like sharing a secret story.

“Before that, will you listen since I’m saying this out of concern?”

“Please speak.”

“Always kill your emotions… Don’t lose your reason… K*ll cruelly… So you just need to follow my orders…”

The words that followed were also ones he’d heard tediously, so Clayton just let them flow past. When the King’s voice seemed to drone from far away, Clayton silently looked down at the sunlight stretching long across the desk.

Silver hair that sparkled like that sunlight… Sky-blue eyes so transparent and clean, looking straight at him.

A subtle flower fragrance resembling her. He recalled Charlotte, whom he’d met in Count Fraxon’s garden.

Suddenly a desire arose to bury his face in her white neck and deeply inhale that fragrance. Thirst suddenly rushed in and he licked his lips with his tongue.

“…Clayton?”

At the King’s call, Clayton emerged from deep thought.

“What are you thinking about so much? I called you several times.”

“…”

“This is the first time you’ve been so unfocused. You must be tired?”

Clayton didn’t show it outwardly, but he was somewhat surprised inside. Because as the King said, this had never happened before.

He’d been lost in idle thoughts during time when focusing on the King wouldn’t have been enough. It was the first time since his childhood days when he’d lost his parents and been taken in by the King.

To him, the King was both a benefactor and his only protector. Even if the world collapsed, he alone had to stay by the King’s side and follow him.

And yet…

“Oh my, I didn’t have tea brought out. Even if we’re on familiar terms, I’m not a miser who’d skimp on tea for my nephew.”

Bastian laughed and pulled the bell cord. While watching the head butler enter pulling a trolley set with refreshments, Clayton thought of Charlotte again.

His body was beside the King, but his soul flew to Count Fraxon’s garden. He recalled her gaze, voice, and touch over and over.

Also the strange feeling he’d felt when holding her hand.

* * *

During dinner, Vern’s anger showed no signs of subsiding.

“That insolent b*stard! Without His Majesty the King, he’d have no power at all…”

He was busy cursing Clayton, calling him this b*stard and that b*stard. I brought a nicely cut piece of steak to my mouth. Then I swallowed pleasantly, enjoying the flavor spreading throughout my mouth.

Watching Vern boiling with anger, the uncomfortable feeling from my conversation with Clayton completely cleared up. The reason Vern was so angry was because after parting with me in the garden, Clayton had only sipped tea before leaving the Count’s estate.

He was raging like this because he hadn’t even suggested meeting with me, let alone obtained information about the trading post to be established in Kolova.

“That’s not true, dear. He legitimately has the title of Duke. And watch your words. What if someone hears?”

Rosalinda rolled her eyes and looked around. Contrary to her worry, the servants were accustomed to such situations and served the meal without much disturbance.

“Can’t I speak freely in my own house?”

Vern raised his voice even louder. Then he glared at me with tightly furrowed eyes.

“Can you even swallow food right now?”

The arrow of anger turned toward me, eating perfectly well. I meticulously wiped my lips with a napkin before speaking.

“The Duke must have had urgent business.”

“You think that’s why I’m like this?”

“Then what else displeases you? They say even dogs aren’t bothered while eating.”

“What… dog?”

Vern twitched his mustache with a dumbfounded expression.

“I meant, please calm down.”

“Huh, she must have eaten something wrong.”

Vern pointed at me with his finger and laughed hollowly.

“I’m eating well. Though I might get indigestion because Father keeps jumping around throughout the meal.”

“Look at her talking back at every turn. Not only that? Making a fuss about competing for trading post operating rights, being stubborn about not meeting Duke Medvez. No matter how I think about it, you don’t seem like my daughter. Right, Rosalinda?”

Vern turned to Rosalinda as though seeking agreement. Well, if it were the original Charlotte, she would have prostrated herself before her raging father.

But the current me couldn’t pretend to be obedient and well-behaved like the existing Charlotte.

‘Because I can’t do that if I’m going to take everything from you.’

I gazed quietly at Vern.

“Charlotte didn’t say anything wrong. Hurry up and eat.”

“Rosalinda, even you!”

“It’s not like this is the only opportunity. And if you entrusted Charlotte with the trading post work, just trust and wait. Don’t be sarcastic.”

“How can you say that to me…”

When Vern trembled with a sense of betrayal, Rosalinda shot back one last time.

“Stop it and just eat now.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

I held back my bursting laughter and expressed gratitude to Rosalinda.

“I’m not taking your side, so don’t misunderstand. I just don’t want us to fail to finish the meal.”

Rosalinda made a sour expression and turned her head sharply. I glanced at Vern.

He shoved meat into his mouth and chewed vigorously. With eyes full of dissatisfaction, he alternately glared at Rosalinda and me.

How much time had passed? Vern, who had quickly emptied his plate, gulped down water before opening his mouth.

“You’re right. This isn’t the only opportunity.”

Rosalinda and I waited for his next words with puzzled eyes. I especially got a bad feeling from that word “opportunity.”

“Butler, bring that.”

He waved one hand at the butler waiting on one side of the dining room. Then the butler picked up something placed on a small table and respectfully presented it to Vern. They must have discussed it beforehand.

“Do you know what this is?”

What he was waving between his fingers was a letter. Judging by the ornate pattern drawn on the envelope’s exterior, it was a letter from the royal palace.

Instantly I knew what it was. The very invitation I’d been waiting for!

“It’s a ball invitation.”

“Which house is hosting the ball?”

Rosalinda asked with an excited expression.

“This isn’t just any ordinary ball. It’s a ball that Her Majesty the Queen is hosting for the first time in a while.”

As expected, it was the ball hosted by Queen Christine.

“Her Majesty Queen Christine? I heard she was staying in the palace because she wasn’t feeling well.”

“She must have recovered, so she’s hosting a ball.”

“That’s wonderful! You don’t know how much I’ve been waiting for Her Majesty the Queen’s ball.”

Rosalinda held both cheeks and was extremely excited. I felt the same way.

Because I would meet Crown Prince Leon at that ball.

“And you.”

Vern pointed his finger at me again.

“Duke Medvez will attend there too. I’ll somehow create an opportunity for you two to be alone, so whether you dance with the Duke or converse with him, take this chance to seduce him well.”

Normally, hearing those words would have killed my excited mood instantly. But his nasty demand became an opportunity to solidify the plan I’d been vaguely considering.

That was… I decided to marry the Crown Prince.