Breti found herself accompanying Sierra to a tea shop in the Allecci shopping district.

The time spent with Sierra was far from comfortable. The memory of the day at the ducal residence—when Karsten had so firmly turned her away—still lingered.

Breti was eyeing Sierra with an awkward expression when the latter spoke.

“I’ll be direct. There’s something I’d like to ask of you.”

Sierra’s gaze met hers head-on.

“A request? What sort of—”

“I want to get closer to His Grace, the Duke.”

The bluntness of it made Breti stare at her in surprise.

‘Even after he rejected her so firmly that day…’

Yet, there was something almost enviable about Sierra’s bold refusal to give up on Karsten.

“Talks of marriage between the Marquisate of Etro and the Ducal House of White have been going on for a long time.”

And the fact that Sierra stood in a position to be part of such talks was enviable in its own way. She herself could never be anything more than his pretend sister.

“Yes, I’m aware.”

Breti replied with a small nod.

“But now, His Grace is trying to break off that engagement.”

Breti only inclined her head without a word.

“Surely a marriage arrangement that has lasted so long ought to be honored, don’t you think, my lady?”

“That’s… outside my authority, I’m afraid. I’m sorry, my lady.”

Breti’s hesitant answer carried an apologetic air. That seemed not to sit well with Sierra, whose voice rose slightly.

“But he’s your brother. Couldn’t you at least speak to him lightly on my behalf?”

“My lady.”

Breti’s low tone cut across Sierra’s childish persistence. Sierra looked at her with a glimmer of anticipation.

“I have heard my brother say with my own ears that he does not wish for this engagement.”

Sierra’s fingertips paused midair. Breti’s words were not the answer she had been hoping for.

Seeing her expression, Breti added,

“It isn’t something I can force him to change, my lady.”

“Which is precisely why I’m asking for your help.”

Breti had thought she had explained it simply enough for Sierra to understand—but clearly, she had misjudged.

“Please, my lady—help me so that His Grace and I can be engaged. Please.”

Sierra seemed to have no intention of listening to anything Breti said, caring only that her own words be heard.

Breti let out a small sigh, unable to hide her discomfort.

“Do you know that the Imperial Hunt will be held soon?”

Sierra suddenly brought up the topic without warning.

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“Then you also know that His Grace has not attended the hunt since becoming master of the ducal house?”

“Yes, well… I’ve heard as much.”

“Each year, the Imperial Family hosts many events, but the hunt is one of the largest. It is tradition to present one’s quarry to the royal family, and through this custom, the Emperor measures the loyalty of the nobility.”

Breti had assumed it was nothing more than an event for nobles and royals to enjoy themselves, but it seemed the Imperial Hunt carried far more weight than she had realized.

“And yet, His Grace does not attend such a gathering.”

“Ah…”

“There are even whispers that he is plotting treason.”

When Sierra spoke again, Breti’s gaze wavered slightly. Treason? But he had accepted an imperial decree to march southwest and fought the Haeriji until he was seriously wounded. If that wasn’t loyalty, what was?

Catching the flicker in Breti’s expression, Sierra quickly added,

“I’m only asking one thing of you, my lady.”

“…”

“Simply persuade His Grace to attend the hunt.”

💙💙💙 💙💙💙

Back at the ducal residence, Breti went straight to Karsten’s office without even changing her clothes.

“There are even whispers that His Grace is plotting treason.”

On the way back to the ducal estate, Breti could not stop thinking about Sierra’s words, which echoed in her mind and gnawed at her. She needed to ensure that he attended the Imperial Hunt. Not for Sierra’s sake, but because she could not bear the thought of Karsten being branded a disgrace.

Breti rapped lightly on the study door to announce her arrival.

“It’s Laterna.”

“Come in.”

His voice answered almost immediately. Without pausing, Breti stepped into the study.

“Nothing happened at the count’s estate?”

Karsten asked, regarding her with a rare, faint smile at his lips.

“Yes, I returned without trouble.”

“I heard Count Nox himself came by a short while ago.”

The unexpected remark made Breti’s eyes widen.

“Why…?”

“It seems Lady Nox claimed she had wronged you and came to apologize.”

The memory of Selenel treating her rudely, putting her in an awkward position in front of others, flashed quickly through Breti’s mind. She remembered Karsten’s words about behaving like a Laterna, and how she had simply responded to those who were mocking her with a few cutting words. But had she gone too far this time?

Biting her lower lip, Breti quickly began.

“Ah, that was—”

“Well done.”

She had been ready to apologize, but instead found herself staring blankly at him after hearing sudden praise.

“Allowing their discourtesy to go unchallenged would have been the greater fault, regardless of the outcome.”

A faint smile lingered at the corner of his lips.

Breti felt her heart thud as she watched his smile.

“It puts my mind at ease, knowing you handled yourself well.”

“Thank… you.”

She quickly bowed her head.

“You must continue to carry yourself as Laterna.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

With that, Karsten picked up his quill again, then asked casually.

“Was that why you came here?”

“No, I just…”

Breti hesitated for a long moment, unsure how to broach the subject.

Watching her closely, Karsten set the quill down once more.

“You have something else to say to me.”

“…Yes.”

“Speak.”

Breti fidgeted with her fingers, glancing at him nervously.

“I heard there will soon be an Imperial Hunt.”

At her words, Karsten’s expression hardened at once. He picked up his quill again and replied flatly.

“I don’t intend to attend this year.”

Hearing his firm answer, Breti hurried to add.

“I also heard you haven’t attended for the past two years.”

“And?”

“I was told there has been much talk about it.”

“…”

“I thought it best for you to stay clear of further rumors…”

“How presumptuous of you.”

Karsten’s low voice cut into Breti’s ears. The chill in it—something she hadn’t heard in a long time—made her feel as though her whole body had gone rigid.

He rose from his seat and came toward her.

“Since when have you been in the habit of adding your opinion to my decisions?”

“…”

Breti kept her head bowed, her gaze fixed on his boots.

“…I apologize for overstepping.”

“So you know you’ve overstepped?”

“But just this once, I truly wish you would attend the Imperial Hunt.”

Even with her head lowered, she didn’t yield.

Her stubbornness seemed to catch Karsten off guard. He couldn’t bring himself to press her further, and instead let out a quiet sigh.

He knew it, too—what the nobility whispered about him for refusing to attend the Imperial Hunt. And yet, knowing that, he had still avoided it.

But now…With Breti speaking to him like this, it was harder to tell her no.

“For now.”

Karsten ran a hand through his hair.

“For now, I’ll think about it.”

The relief on Breti’s face was plain.

“You must be tired from today. Go and rest.”

“Yes.”

Her expression lighter, Breti made for the door. She had just opened it when—

“Mother!”

An unexpected visitor was standing before them.