“Are you… serious?”

The man asked again in bewilderment, and Gillian, now back in Priscilla’s appearance, nodded.

“I’m serious.”

In front of him, Riemann knelt completely n*ked in a ridiculous state, bound up. Gillian gestured toward him.

“This man tried to ass*ult me. But I don’t want to cause a commotion.”

Though he wanted to make him pay for his crimes, if Riemann opened his mouth, there would still be trouble for himself, so he had no choice but to silence him this way.

Only then did the photographer, though seeming reluctant, do his job like someone who owed no loyalty to Riemann.

“Then… I’ll take the shot.”

After the photographer finished his work and left, Gillian sat down insolently with his knees folded in front of Riemann, who was glaring at him like he wanted to tear him apart.

“You understand without me saying it, right? If you so much as breathe a word about what you saw… your social position will end up like this.”

He crushed a fan in his fist with a crunch.

When he got up to leave, Riemann made muffled sounds. Since shouting wouldn’t matter, he untied the gag from his mouth. Then Riemann spoke urgently:

“I don’t know what you want by putting on this whole act, but you’re probably planning to extort money from Ulrich in the end anyway.”

He had deliberately let him listen, but it seemed he had woken up and heard sounds from inside the closet midway through.

After realizing Gillian was a man, he had apparently discarded the ‘Jerome Langley’s woman’ theory and now formed a ‘gigolo’ hypothesis—that he was seducing Andrea to make a tidy profit.

“I’ll help you. I’ll even find you an escape route abroad, so let’s make a deal.”

Gillian looked down at Riemann quietly.

“Abroad? Where?”

When he asked with apparent interest, Riemann couldn’t hide his excitement and quickly said:

“Anywhere you want. Just name it. How about Kirak? The political situation in the south there has been chaotic for quite a while, so many people flee there. With the money you extort from Ulrich, you could live like a king.”

Gillian sighed and turned away.

“What an idiot.”

Not understanding what he said in Kiraki, Riemann looked confused.

“What? What did you…”

Regardless, Gillian left the cabin.

“Hey! What did you say!”

***

“How did it go?”

When he returned home, Andrea, who had been sent back earlier, ran out asking. Gillian, who had entered the lobby, put his arm around her shoulder and led her.

“Let’s go to the room first.”

Once in the room, he said:

“Wait a moment.”

Then he went to the bathroom, washed completely, and came out. Andrea, who had been sitting on the sofa organizing her thoughts in her own way, turned at the sound of the bathroom door opening and was slightly mesmerized by Gillian’s freshly bathed appearance. 

Because she couldn’t believe that Priscilla and Gillian were truly the same person, and because his moist, warm appearance as he swept up his wet hair was so s*xy.

Gillian sat next to Andrea and held out his hand. When Andrea carefully took that hand, he said:

“There was a reason I had no choice but to dress as a woman.”

“Are you hiding from someone?”

Andrea knew well that Gillian wasn’t the type to cross-dress due to some secret inclination or hidden desire. Of course, even if that were the case, she wouldn’t think it was wrong, but somehow, he just wasn’t that type of person. Character-wise.

“My full name is Gillianios Dratva.”

A name she never expected came out, leaving Andrea momentarily dazed.

“Dratva… that’s the noble family that rules the Landriga region of Kirak, isn’t it? But I know Count Dratva has no sons. He should only have two sons-in-law…”

It was surprising that she knew enough to immediately recite the genealogy of a foreign noble family.

Gillian shook his head slightly.

“My father was the previous Count Dratva. The current count is my uncle.”

“Oh, then that story about being driven out…”

When Andrea suddenly closed her mouth mid-sentence, silence settled. Then she murmured like she understood.

“So that’s what it was.”

With just that brief fact, she seemed to understand the entire situation up to now. The reason Gillian had cross-dressed, the reason he couldn’t tell her the truth, the reason he said he would return to Kirak—everything.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.”

The touch of his fingers holding the tips of hers conveyed his worry about how she would react.

Feeling this, Andrea looked at Gillian and gripped his hand tightly, interlacing their fingers and bringing it to her cheek.

“Thank you. For coming here. For meeting me.”

Unexpectedly, Gillian choked up. He hadn’t thought Andrea would say something like this.

Then Andrea asked:

“So what happens now?”

Gillian wrapped both of Andrea’s hands in his, lightly kissed the back of her hand, then asked:

“Have you ever thought about living in a foreign country?”

“Yes.”

It was a faster answer than expected. Gillian let out a small laugh that seemed somewhat relieved.

“Shouldn’t you think about it before answering?”

“Though I’m concerned about leaving father alone… I’ve always wanted to try living abroad. Cedar forests, pagan temples and spires—I’ve always dreamed of such things. That’s probably why I started studying about Kirak too.”

“But it might take a long time for me to reclaim my family.”

“Are you planning to reclaim it…?”

Worry and concern showed in her cautious, probing tone. Gillian nodded.

“The reason I came to the Kingdom of Selon was to find the trust assets my father hid here. While doing that, I’ve been gathering forces scattered abroad who harbor resentment against the current Count Dratva. Through those people, I’m also collecting people inside Landriga who have intentions of rebellion. The cross-dressing was a means to hide what I was doing.”

Andrea was silent for a moment, then let out a long breath.

“It’s such an incredible story that I don’t know where to start being surprised…”

“You don’t need to be surprised. The Gillian you met is still me. Even saying this, if I fail, I’ll be penniless.”

If he failed, not just his money but even his life would be in danger, but he didn’t want to make her anxious by telling her such things.

But Andrea gripped his hand tightly.

“You won’t fail.”

At her face showing belief in him rather than simple comfort, Gillian embraced her like expressing his overwhelming feelings. Then Andrea, who had been held for a moment, took one of his hands and said with a smile seemingly meant to comfort him:

“Maybe the reason I was vaguely drawn to Kirak was to meet Gillian. Somehow I strangely liked Kirak.”

Then she brought her lips to the back of his hand like a man kissing a woman.

“Gillianios Dratva. I want to lie in your wheat fields.”

With a grin, she whispered the confession phrase she had read in a book about Kirak recently and memorized because she thought it was wonderful.

“That…”

Gillian gave a slight hollow laugh.

“That means you want to sleep with someone.”

“What?”

When she opened her eyes wide in complete surprise, a mischievous look appeared at the corners of Gillian’s mouth.

“You really are full of ambition.”

“N-no, I didn’t know it meant that…”

“Fine. Do as you please.”

Then he lightly lifted Andrea and placed her on his lap.

Andrea was momentarily flustered but saw Gillian, always confident as usual. She wanted to surprise him enough to make him jump.

She leaned in, kissing slowly like quenching thirst while slipping her hand inside his shirt.

Gillian, who had been looking down, slightly raised his eyes to look at her. He too seemed flushed with some kind of anticipation, his eyes faintly reddening. His already white, clear skin looked even more moisture-laden from his recent wash.

Suddenly intense heat surged from within, and like there was a temperature difference with the outside, her vision began to blur hazily like fogged with moisture.

Thinking that the elegant, dignified Lady Priscilla had become a man—no, that was the truth—made her nose bridge feel hot and her breathing rough. She newly realized the reality that Priscilla had become a man—or rather, had been a man.

Was it okay for such a good thing to happen?

Her heated head felt dizzy.

‘Lady Priscilla is Gillian… And Gillian is mine…’

The hallucination of boiling water bubbled noisily right next to her ear. Finally, from excessive excitement, Andrea collapsed onto Gillian’s shoulder.

“Andrea?”

Gillian made a surprised sound and lifted her body. In that position, Andrea’s face turned bright red as she murmured:

“This situation feels so much like a dream that I’m dizzy…”

Gillian chuckled and hugged Andrea tightly like a beloved doll.

Somehow he too wanted to believe in something like fate. That being driven out by his uncle and coming to this distant foreign country was an essential part of meeting his lover.

***

Riemann, who had been holed up in his room for days without even opening the curtains, lay in bed grinding his teeth like they might shatter.

That cross-dressing pervert had left without even untying his bonds, so the servants who came looking for him later witnessed his entire ridiculous state. This humiliation wouldn’t be resolved unless he chewed up that damned b*stard alive.

‘How dare he do this to me?’

He was the son of the Flogel family. A noble. That earthy-smelling fraud couldn’t humiliate a noble like himself this way.

He would never forget this humiliation.

***

Gillian was precisely feeling what ‘chills down to the bone’ meant for the first time in a while. The luxurious card he held seemed like an invitation to h*ll. Jerome beside him also had a tense expression.

The card Gillian held read:

<You are invited to dinner.

-Theodore Ulrich>

Theodore was somewhat—no, very—laissez-faire regarding Andrea, never once checking in after entrusting her education to someone. But suddenly inviting him to a party?

“It would be suspicious not to go.”

Jerome muttered tensely. Gillian snapped to attention like hearing ‘freeze tag’ and waved the card around.

“No, I’m not going. Are you crazy?”

“Does it make sense not to respond to a dinner invitation—a formal invitation like this—while tutoring his daughter? I started this thinking it wouldn’t look suspicious to teach a socialite lady, but this is getting complicated…”

Gillian, pressing his brow, muttered seriously:

“If they find out I’m a man, I’ll get shot on the spot, right?”

“Probably.”

A chilling silence flowed.

Suddenly Gillian glared at Jerome.

“Your lord has to walk into danger, and you, supposedly a guard knight, can be this calm?”

Then Jerome said with an innocent face:

“I could take the bullet for you, but giving false reassurance that they won’t shoot is different.”

“That slippery tongue of yours.”

Then he looked at the invitation again.

Since he had decided to go all the way without separating from Andrea, this was a mountain he had to cross eventually anyway. The day he would have to return to Kirak was also approaching.

He felt like he needed to prepare himself mentally.

***

“Lady Priscilla.”

From the mansion entrance, Theodore welcomed Gillian with a benevolent smile different from the rumors. Cold sweat ran down his back. Starting like this, he worried whether he could endure well until the party ended.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Not at all. I should have invited you sooner, but I’m sorry for only arranging this now. Please come in.”

He politely gestured inside. Gillian, dressed as Priscilla, stepped into the mansion.

Theodore welcomed the next guest, and Andrea approached from inside.

“Lady.”

The bustle style with only a slight puff at the hips and the light sky-blue dress with lace added to the modest neckline was very lovely. Instead of a bonnet, her hair was decorated with an airy corsage made of what looked like muslin, lightly twisted up.