The countess’s voice finally broke with tears.

Black circulation disease was a terrible affliction that typically struck in infancy.

With enough care to maintain one’s health, there were rare cases where a natural recovery occurred miraculously around the age of eight or nine, but Vincent was not among those miracles.

Past the age of ten, there was no sign of healing whatsoever, and the flame of that young life dimmed more with each passing day.

Marquis Rodev could not have been unaware of that desperation.

And he was placing that very desperation on a scale and setting a price.

“…Is there something specific you want, my lord?”

Count Wilroy opened his dry lips with barely contained anxiety.

His low voice rang out dry, like sand mixed in.

Countess Wilroy added to his words, her expression one of desperate appeal.

“Whatever our family is able to offer, truly anything, we will do our utmost.”

“Anything, you say….”

Marquis Rodev raised an eyebrow with an air of interest.

Count and Countess Wilroy latched onto that subtle shift in expression.

“Whether it is money, goods, or anything else, please just say the word.”

“If money is not enough, we will find a way.”

“Hmm….”

Marquis Rodev, his expression calm and composed, slowly looked back and forth between the count’s desperate face and the countess’s pale one, like a man appraising items at an auction.

And at last, his gaze seemed to reach its destination: Julia, sitting rigid as a statue in the corner of the sofa.

Julia stopped breathing for a moment.

The gaze that flew toward her without hesitation was too sharp and too relentless.

And within it was the cold detachment of an appraiser calculating the worth of goods on display, which made her deeply uncomfortable.

The rude gaze swept her from head to toe, like a jewel being assessed on a precision scale, and Julia instinctively shrank her shoulders, but then recalled the posture ingrained in her through her lady’s education and desperately straightened her back.

“It has been a while since I last saw you, when you were a little younger, at the Pearl Springs recital. Lady Julia?”

The marquis’s voice was unexpectedly soft, but his eyes alone were cold and calculating, like a snake’s.

“…Yes, my lord.”

Julia answered politely, drawn taut with tension.

She felt exactly like a mouse being watched by a predator.

It was a great relief that her voice did not tremble.

‘He remembers me.’

Pearl Springs, famous for its open-air hot springs and resort life.

Various events were held there to relieve the tedium of the nobles’ long recuperation stays.

Young Julia, who attended a recital by a famous pianist as a flower girl at the time, stepped onto the stage on an impulse to perform alongside the pianist, and her outstanding playing drew an explosive response from the audience, making her briefly famous as a ‘young girl musician.’

It was the result of the piano she started playing to keep her brother Vincent company and ease his boredom during his reclusive recuperation, which became her most brilliant talent.

Julia’s gift was, in truth, also a product of loneliness.

When she was young, after her childhood playmate Lou, who had been by her side from the moment she arrived at Pearl Springs, suddenly disappeared, Julia clung to her tutors to endure the unmanageable time and grief.

Not just academics, but piano, painting, embroidery, and foreign languages.

She threw herself into each with a frightening intensity, as though possessed, and the result came back to her as a reputation in Pearl Springs society: ‘the model of a lady.’

By nature, she was not sociable or warm, having spent so much time alone to avoid burdening her ailing brother.

But through learning so many things and conducting herself properly with her teachers, her manner became excessively polite and courteous.

The absence of childlike innocence or charm was packaged as gravity, and as time passed, the image of the model lady only grew more firmly set.

“Your piano performance at the time left a very strong impression.”

The reputation Julia built over the years, and the value she once held as a young girl musician, seemed to remain clearly in the marquis’s mind as well.

Without taking his eyes off Julia, the marquis continued in a low voice toward Count and Countess Wilroy.

His quiet, settled gaze was that of a hunter who had silently slipped a noose around the neck of his prey.

“Count Wilroy. Moonfrost herb is rare to begin with, and it is among the more valuable things in our family’s possession. Then, what is the most precious and valuable thing in the count’s family?”

The question was plain, but the weight it carried was not light.

“The most precious thing….”

Count Wilroy let out a low groan, thought for a moment, then answered.

“As you know, our domain is modest. But if I may say so, combining my wife’s dowry and all the assets I possess, I believe we could put together a sum that would satisfy your lordship.”

A thread of desperate hope hung in the count’s voice.

Marquis Rodev’s expression shifted subtly in that instant.

It was a cold sneer, contempt and mockery mixed together, the look of someone who found it laughable.

“Yet I hear that the count’s finances are said to be in quite a precarious state. I understand there are very serious problems with the mine you were once so proud of?”

“Th, that is….”

Count Wilroy suddenly bowed his head at the marquis’s sharp remark.

His broad shoulders seemed to cave in, as though the strength had gone out of them.

“Yes. When a child’s life is at stake, what room is there for pretense or appearances? To speak plainly: some time ago, I invested a large sum and purchased what I believed to be an Aurom mine, but for seven years now, only worthless Aurite has been extracted.”

“A loss every year, then?”

There was not a shred of sympathy in the marquis’s voice.

It was simply a cold verification of facts.

“Yes. I am ashamed. We have been pouring most of the domain’s revenue into it. I was taken in by the sweet words of speculators and…. I fear I made an irreversible mistake. But I have not yet lost hope. I cannot give up the dream that if only an Aurom vein is confirmed….”

“A murky dream.”

The marquis cut through Count Willloy’s desperate dream with a single cold remark.

“Regrettably, yes. So what I can offer is this: a promise that if Aurom is ever extracted, I will give half the mine’s revenue for as many years as our son Vincent has been alive.”

“Hah.”

A short, derisive laugh escaped Marquis Rodev.

“It is a comfort, I suppose, to be a dreamer living in a rosy dream. Closing your eyes to cold reality while savoring hope as sweet as cotton candy.”

The marquis’s elegant mockery chilled the air in the drawing room.

Count Wilroy, his gaze fixed on the floor, seemed to have resigned himself to everything. He squeezed out his last remaining strength and spoke.

“It is a shameful confession. What we can currently offer in exchange for the Moonfrost herb is one residence in the capital that my wife brought as her dowry, the annual cash revenue from our domain, and the uncertain future value of the Aurom mine.”

When the words that sounded like a confession of guilt came to an end, a heavy silence settled over the drawing room.

In a single moment, everything the Wilroy family possessed had been laid bare, their despair and their last thread of hope along with it.

Marquis Rodev, his expression grave and brow furrowed, seemed to quietly weigh those meager offerings.

And then, at last, he slowly opened his mouth to speak of what he truly wanted.

“Well. If that is all the Wilroy County is able to pay, then so be it.”

His narrowed gaze, edged with cold amusement, was fixed on Julia.

“We are not exactly in urgent need of money, and since it is a matter of saving a precious child’s life, there is no need to hesitate on moral grounds. However….”

The marquis paused briefly, then looked at Julia again and drew a meaningful smile at the corner of his mouth.

“The offered price is not quite what we need most. And so I wish to make one additional request.”

The marquis’s voice was quiet, but every hope Count and Countess Wilroy held rested on the words about to fall.

“…Whatever it is, please say it.”

The count’s voice, barely forced out, was almost inaudible.

“As you know, my wife and I have a son. Two years older than Lady Julia.”

The marquis opened his mouth as though it were nothing.

It was the kind of calm change of subject that felt like a friendly inquiry made in passing on the street.

But it was a subject he chose to raise precisely at this moment.

No one failed to understand that a fatal trap was hidden within the polite, composed tone.

“Yes. The reputation of your son, Lord Henry, is well known to us. I hear Lord Rodev is very strong and healthy, tall and handsome, and very popular.”

Countess Wilroy, seemingly trying to keep the conversation on pleasant terms by any means, desperately offered the kind of stock compliment common in social circles.

It was the sort of praise about appearance that any noble son of growing age typically received.

Marquis Rodev’s expression became subtly complicated for a moment.

“Well, that is true….”

It was an expression closer to resignation than pride, tinged with a bitterness that had nothing to do with boasting.

“He is my one and only precious son, but he is quite the handful. Bright, popular, healthy, and spirited.”

His assessment of his son was remarkably dry and sparse.

“He is at that age, after all. Our Henry….”

The marchioness, who had been silent, picked up the conversation as though she had been waiting for just that moment, smiling warmly.

“That is why I thought our spirited Henry and the accomplished Lady Julia would complement each other well and make a fine pair. If young Vincent recovers his health, and our two families form this precious bond, what greater cause for celebration could there be?”

The marchioness finished speaking and turned a serene smile toward Julia.

The smooth smile looked nothing but warm and gracious, yet to Julia it felt like a chilling signal drawing her into the center of a sticky web.

“Lady Julia in particular is so dignified and composed, with such deep, lovely eyes, that I believe she would suit our dear Henry wonderfully.”

In that instant, something cold ran down Julia’s spine.

Without drawing anyone’s notice, she gripped the skirt of her dress near her knees so tightly that her nails dug in.

Henry Rodev.

She had only caught a glimpse of him from a distance once or twice at Pearl Springs, but the infamous rumors about the Rodev family’s scoundrel had been driven into her ears whether she wanted to hear them or not.

Two years her senior, his unrestrained behavior matched his tall, large frame, and his booming voice made him the center of loud commotion wherever he went.

He loved anything flashy and extravagant and always drew attention.

He was not yet of the age to formally attend balls or evening parties, yet he was said to roam around with older young men and harass women.

His character was frivolous, impulsive, and reckless.

He had long since turned his back on academics, but his passable swordsmanship, agreeable looks, and the prestige of the Rodev Marquisate behind him meant he drew the admiration of many young ladies.

He was the complete opposite of Julia, who was known to be quiet and reserved, unsociable and self-restrained.

They were polar opposites, through and through.