He gave the most straightforward answer.

“So that’s why you hired me?”

Carlyle held the cigarette between his long index and middle fingers and looked directly into Iris’s light brown eyes.

“Because when you wear it, what people see first isn’t you, but Sir Bardo’s jewel, Iris.”

“……”

The hand gripping the strap of Iris’s bag tightened. The thin leather crumpled and curled between her fingers.

“I haven’t violated any contract terms or asked for more than agreed, so I hope that’s a satisfactory answer, Miss Mora.”

“……”

“It’s late, I’ll have you driven……”

“You said clearly there would be no additional demands.”

Just as Carlyle was putting the cigarette away and rising from his seat, Iris spoke again.

“We each keep to what’s in the contract. Nothing more.”

“……”

Carlyle’s eyebrow rose as he watched Iris hold his gaze without flinching and push back directly.

Keep to the contract and nothing else.

It was a familiar phrase. The only difference was that it had always been him drawing that line so firmly. He had seen many times how things unfolded after he said those words.

“……Are you going to that widower?”

So the right thing to do was to stop caring. That was the unspoken rule that had never been broken.

Even so, asking this juvenile question…… was probably because of this woman’s talent for provoking him.

“What are you……”

Iris’s brow furrowed in puzzlement.

But there was only one widower in her vicinity, so the answer came quickly.

‘Going to Mr. Dupree? What is this out of nowhere?’

Thinking of Daniel, something flashed in Iris’s mind.

Illustration work.

The contract with the President would end after three months. After that, she would have more time to spend on her own life, and wasn’t that why she had gotten into this contract in the first place. If she could take on illustration work, it would bring in additional income and give her a chance to build her own skills.

“Personal matters are also outside the scope of the contract. I hope that’s a satisfactory answer, sir.”

Iris finished speaking, bowed politely, and left the office.

❖ ❖ ❖

Iris woke a little earlier than usual and climbed out of bed to take three sheets of paper from her desk drawer, bound together. She had drawn them up the moment she got home after meeting the President the previous night. Three months of calendar pages.

She picked up a pencil and marked today’s date with an X.

“Still so far to go……”

But they had made a firm agreement to keep to the contract, and until then she intended to be faithful to it without complaint.

The biggest thing she had learned from dealing with the President was the contract itself. She planned to apply that lesson to Davis Brandon as well. Having made the mistake of entering a loose contract with the President, she needed to protect herself through a more careful additional agreement with Davis Brandon.

What’s done is done. No use regretting it now.

Thinking back on the hardships she and her brother had endured in a foreign country, this was probably nothing. At least now there was no risk of going hungry or fearing for her life, and above all, she had managed to keep her family together somehow.

She needed to get through this first before she could focus more on the illustration work.

‘At least get my thoughts in order first.’

Morning was when her mind worked best. She washed quickly and came back to her desk, and the diligent scratch of pencil filled the small room as she wrote out the terms she intended to propose to Davis Brandon.

By the time she had sorted through her thoughts well enough, it was exactly the right time to get dressed and leave.

Iris tied her hair up in its usual roll, put on a white blouse and grey skirt, and stepped out of her room with a brisk step.

“So tell me, Iris. Is it true?”

“You kept putting us off yesterday saying you were busy!”

She had timed her arrival to leave no room for questions, yet the moment she reached the faculty room, her colleagues descended on her as though they had been lying in wait. Everyone was clutching books and attendance registers, clearly ready to sprint to their classrooms the moment she answered.

“W-wait a moment. I need to get ready for class too……”

She had made up her mind to admit it, but when the moment actually came, the words wouldn’t come out easily.

More teachers crowded around her in the meantime, and the room filled with noise. Everyone was pressed for time and pestering her to answer quickly, stamping their feet.

“……Yes.”

After a long pause, a small voice finally slipped from between Iris’s lips. At the same moment, something close to a shriek erupted from the cluster of teachers beside her.

The bell saved her from the flood of questions she could see coming.

❖ ❖ ❖

“Ha……”

A long, tired sigh escaped from between Iris’s lips. She had spent the entire day hiding from colleagues and staying in her classroom, and had even delayed leaving work. Having slipped out through the back gate to avoid the journalists, she now had to take a long detour to reach the omnibus stop.

All this fuss over a fame she never asked for.

Still, once the contract with Davis Brandon was properly negotiated, the journalists would all disappear.

The address of Comus’s main office printed in the publication was close to the President’s press building. Coming by omnibus rather than car this time, it took considerably longer.

The Comus building wasn’t as grand as the President’s, but it wasn’t small either. Iris squared herself with the same resolve she used before going into work and walked through the front entrance.

“What brings you in today?”

“I’m here to see Mr. Brandon.”

“Your name?”

“Iris Mora.”

The moment she gave her name, the lobby attendant’s eyes rose from the register and swept briefly over her face.

“I don’t have an appointment…… but I’m happy to wait if I need to.”

“……One moment, please.”

The attendant, dressed in a smart frock, left Iris seated in the lobby and went upstairs.

Iris had opened her book fully prepared to wait until late at night as she had the day before, but she had only read about three pages when the attendant came back down and led her to the President’s office. They took the stairs, which was a relief. No elevator, apparently.

Davis’s voice reached her just as she neared the top floor, the third.

“Miss Mora, coming to find me herself. I’m honored.”

“……Good afternoon, Mr. Brandon.”

She looked up to find him smiling at the top of the stairs.

From there, the publisher himself led Iris to a seat, and his secretary arrived shortly after with tea and refreshments.

“If you’d given me advance notice, I could have arranged a date and treated you to a proper meal.”

The man who had published her personal information without a word of consultation was sitting here making small talk to her face.

Iris’s brow tightened slightly, and Davis added, “Mr. Berthheimer included, of course.” The fact that he could toss out a joke like that while clearly anticipating exactly why she had come made it plain he was no ordinary person.

‘Then again. He must deal with people coming to confront him constantly. You’d need that level of nerve to keep a business like this running.’

In front of someone like this, it was important not to open her mouth carelessly. The fact that he kept talking on his own even when she sat there saying nothing and looking displeased confirmed it.

“I’d like to make a contract with you, Mr. Brandon.”

After nodding along to his chatter for a while, Iris finally spoke. Straight to the point, as always.

This place felt worse than the President’s office even without a trace of cigarette smoke. The Comus covers plastered across every wall said enough. Selling other people’s private lives and then hanging them up like trophies.

“Ha ha ha ha! Interesting. Let’s hear what kind of contract the lady has in mind.”

Davis laughed heartily and spooned a generous heap of sugar into his tea.

“If there’s information I can provide as the President’s lover, I’ll give it exclusively to Comus. Interviews, for instance, or the content of our…… dates.”

One of Davis’s eyebrows shot up as he lifted the teacup to his lips.

He had expected her to come in furious about the invasion of privacy, yet the woman had arrived with quite an interesting product. It was the exact opposite of his previous subjects, who had wanted to expose themselves in as many outlets as possible. His interest was naturally piqued.

“In exchange, make sure my name doesn’t appear in any other publication. And keep journalists away from me.”

Selling herself to the enemy to protect herself from other threats.