Left alone in the drawing room, Catherine bit her fingernails.

“That insufferable bastard! There’s not a single thing I like about him! You think you’re the only one who’s busy? I’m busy too! What? ‘There are things you must not know’? Oh, look at the almighty male lead, nose up in the air—”

Knock, knock.

“Duke Lucart, may I have a moment?”

Catherine froze at the knock and the familiar voice of her older brother.

After a brief silence, Sillion’s heir once again called for Theron.

“Your Grace?”

There was no way he would receive an answer from someone who had already left. Yet, the overly respectful tone her brother used to address Theron only made her even more furious.

Deliberately, Catherine clamped her mouth shut, waiting for the brother she shared nothing but blood with to grow more and more impatient.

As she wished, Sillion’s successor anxiously ran his hand through his hair outside the door, repeatedly gripping and releasing the doorknob.

If he entered like this, it would be rude, but he also didn’t have the luxury to wait indefinitely until granted permission. In the end, unable to bear it any longer, he boldly turned the doorknob.

When the door opened and he saw his brother’s forced smile, Catherine’s lips curled slightly to one side.

“Forgive my rudeness. It’s just that this matter is somewhat urgent…”

The man, left alone in the drawing room facing Catherine’s mocking smile, abruptly halted his words.
Trying to make sense of the situation, he glanced around the drawing room, his expression crumpling like wet paper.

“Where is the Duke?”

“He’s gone.”

“What? He left this quickly?”

“He said he had urgent business.”

Since there had been no indication whether that damned urgent business had concluded, she technically wasn’t lying.

Satisfied with her own rationalization, Catherine continued to mock her flustered brother until her expression mirrored his as he shouted at her.

“What were you doing?! The Duke rarely visits the marquisate, and you should’ve tried to spend even a little more time with him! You useless, foolish—!”

“If you’re so desperate for Duke Lucart, why didn’t you try to stop him yourself?”

“Dammit! I should have! Ugh… I had to discuss the trade ship issue with him.”

“Trade ship?”

Seizing the moment when he seemed too frazzled, Catherine subtly inquired.

Perhaps genuinely caught off guard, her brother, who would normally dismiss her with a “none of your business,” began to explain in detail.

“Yes. The trade ship constructed by Duke Lucart’s house is said to be the largest, most durable, and fastest in history. I had to invest in it.”

When Theron first initiated this trade ship project years ago, he wasn’t yet engaged to Catherine, and Sillion was just another insignificant family.

As a result, Sillion missed the chance to get a stake in a business tempting enough to make even a novice investor drool.

After their engagement, Catherine had mentioned investing in the trade ship several times, but Theron coldly dismissed her each time.

“Does this mean I have to go to the Duke’s estate myself? But nothing came of it last time. We couldn’t even show him half of what we prepared. That’s why I specifically invited him to the mansion…”

Muttering to himself, his complexion turned pale.

“His Majesty ordered me to invest if Greuga’s successor failed to act. If I miss this opportunity…”

Recalling the emperor he saw up close when he followed his father to the palace after handling Greuga’s successor, he swallowed dryly.

“Do not defy him. Never disobey His Majesty’s command.”

That encounter made him understand his father’s warning to his very core.

“I don’t have time for this. I need to catch up with the Duke and convince him to turn his carriage around.”

Despite the urgency, he didn’t forget to lash out at Catherine, whom he found infuriating even when she simply breathed.

“If only you’d been a bit smarter, my workload wouldn’t have increased!”

“What a pity. Well, he and I broke off the engagement today.”

Sillion’s successor was stunned, more so by the recklessness of her words than by the fact that she had cut him off. Seeing his dumbfounded expression, Catherine calmly reiterated.

“We broke off the engagement, with Duke Lucart.”

“W-What are you talking about?”

Unable to continue, he spluttered before raising his voice.

“Who gave you the right?!”

“The right of the person engaged, of course. There weren’t any official dealings between our families anyway, right? Sillion’s been pouring resources into this one-sidedly. Didn’t you tell me countless times to hold on to the Duke just to recoup that?”

Having said her piece, Catherine grabbed her skirt and stood.

“The Duke has already agreed. The annulment documents will arrive in a few hours. Isn’t it fortunate? In the Empire, only the seals of the involved parties are needed for an annulment.”

At her words, her brother finally seemed to relax, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Right. So, the annulment won’t be valid. I have your seal in my possession.”

“Yes, well. I’ll be off now.”

Barely listening to him, Catherine left the room. As she exited the drawing room, she fondled the seal she hadn’t let out of her sight for a moment since obtaining it, struggling to suppress the laughter bubbling up. After disciplining the thieving maid, the first thing she ordered was for the girl to steal her seal from her brother’s study.

It was only natural—she needed her own seal to proceed with the annulment, after all.

‘Fool. Did you really think I would declare the annulment without making preparations?’ 

The frustration that had built up while being chewed out by Theron just moments ago felt a bit more alleviated. 

‘Well, now that I don’t have to see that wretched face again, this matter should be over.’

Though she thought so, her mind was already turning toward a different matter. She had no desire to act like a villainess and get caught up in the original protagonist’s affairs, but she did want to give Theron, who had looked down on her so much, a taste of his own medicine.

“I have one more reason to meet the emperor. I need to find a way into the palace. Should I go back to Arian?”

Though he had drained her money to the last drop, whining about how difficult it was to obtain confidential imperial information, his skills were undeniably top-notch.

“Given that the crown prince and the emperor don’t get along, it should be enough to spread the rumor that the crown prince, due to his insomnia, takes some medicine that makes him snap.”

While waiting for the impending annulment letter, Catherine reconsidered her future plans, feeling that the first step had finally fallen into place.

“Now that the engagement is off, I need to make some money. I really need money.”

As she estimated the value of the new dress she had hastily tailored for her meeting with Theron, along with the jewelry adorning her arms, neck, and ears, Catherine suddenly thought of the trade ship.

“Come to think of it, that idiot was babbling something about Greuga.”

If she could successfully invest in the trade ship coveted even by the Emperor, it might give her leverage in future dealings.

“I’ll have a lot of work for Arian.”

Carefully removing the dress and accessories she planned to sell, Catherine took out the cloak she had stashed away. She expected to be going out frequently for the next few days.

“Ah, miss, that cloak looks far too expensive for wandering around back alleys. Next time, try wearing something more modest.”

Recalling the words of that insolent brat, she quickly pulled the bell cord to summon a maid.

“Do you have a cloak?”

“Pardon?”

“The one you wear when you go out.”

“Yes.”

“Bring it to me.”

The maid blinked in confusion, caught off guard by the sudden demand. Catherine’s brows furrowed.

“Go get it. What are you hesitating for? It’s not worth that much, anyway.”

Suppressing the unspoken complaint of not understanding why her cloak was being taken, the maid quietly left the room.

“Slow as ever. I won’t be able to use that one for much longer.”

As Catherine muttered complaints reminiscent of the Emperor’s mannerisms, a long shadow stretched behind her.

***

Scratch, scratch.

The quiet sound of a pen gliding across paper filled the room. Raylin, processing trade ship documents in place of the still-recovering Roir, let out a long sigh.

Though she mechanically reviewed and processed the documents, her mind was a tangled mess. She had to read each document multiple times before managing to move on to the next.

Focus. Just focus…

Her resolve was strong, but the sentences refused to settle in her mind. Every time she came to her senses, she found herself fiddling with her lips.

“Stop that.”

Even glaring at her rebellious hands did little to help. After struggling through a stack of documents, she finally pushed them aside.

Knock, knock.

“Excuse me, My Lady. The Duke of Lucart has sent a letter. It’s not an urgent matter, but he requested that you review it, so I brought it immediately.”

“The Duke of Lucart? Come in.”

After opening the letter with a letter opener, Raylin read the brief content and chuckled lightly.

“They say the trade ship’s departure will be delayed, and they’re looking for additional investment. Ha! An investment from Sillion? I suppose I should at least be glad it wasn’t Catherine.”

If things had followed the path of 『Re.Vil.Bre』—the life she had before her return—she would have eagerly approached Catherine, begging her to invest in the trade ship project managed by Greuga. And Catherine, feigning reluctance, would have poured in the wealth she had amassed through Kertan, Lady Mifaro, and the casino, becoming extraordinarily wealthy once the ship began operating.

Recalling that time, Raylin was hit with the realization of just how much of a fool she had been.

‘To think I had to pay the steep price of death to escape that pathetic fate.’

Raylin let out a bitter laugh, folding Theron’s letter. Then, she tilted her head.

‘Now that I think about it…’

“How did Sillion find out about the trade ship’s delay?”

Roir’s bloodied state upon returning from the Viscounty of Piastre had been kept strictly confidential. The matter was handled entirely within the family, and any plans for retribution were also discussed internally.

Moreover, the project was actually progressing faster than planned, thanks to Raylin stepping in for Roir while he recovered.

“Hmm…”

Raylin let out a low hum, her lips curling into a crooked smile.

It’s still premature to draw conclusions without concrete evidence, but…

“Was Sillion behind Piastre all along?”