Let’s turn the clock back a little, to when Charlotte set foot in this manor once again.

Standing in the corridor before the parlor, she found she simply couldn’t bring herself to step inside. Because that steely, fierce face—the one that hadn’t bothered to hide its displeasure yesterday—was vivid in her memory.

What should I say.

She’d thought about it the whole carriage ride over, but no words that might soften his mood would come to her.

And there’s something I need to ask, too…

Had she never met him for the rest of her life, that would be one thing, but now that they’d met again like this, she couldn’t very well not ask. But could she even ask, with things as they were? What if she asked and only soured his mood further?

“What are you pondering so deeply?”

“!”

At the voice that came out of nowhere, Charlotte’s shoulders shot up. Startled badly enough to leave the back of her neck stiff, she turned around with effort.

“…Why are you so startled?”

Raymond asked, knitting his brow. He’d had no intention of startling her. He’d simply been worried about Charlotte, standing there pale-faced, not even aware he’d come near.

Startle her a second time and she looks like she’d faint dead away.

Just look at the cold sweat beading on her face. She looked ready to collapse at any moment, making a person worry.

Charlotte, for her part, looked at Raymond, who kept gazing down at her with that frightening face, and thought,

I made a mistake again.

He’d merely spoken to her, and she’d reacted far too dramatically. He must surely be displeased.

“I didn’t realize you were beside me.”

Placing a hand over her chest, which was still pounding fiercely, Charlotte drew a deep, steadying breath and straightened her posture.

“I’m sorry.”

Raymond waved a hand and said,

“Whatever are you apologizing for. It’s quite all right.”

A flicker of surprise sparkled in Charlotte’s eyes. She’d assumed he’d naturally be irritated—was he not? And yet his expression was still as forbidding as ever.

Then Raymond said,

“More to the point…”

Having let out a long breath, he closed his mouth again. He’d meant to ask what she’d been pondering so deeply, but pressing her about it seemed a bit much, after all. And he could roughly infer why her expression was so dark.

She must feel like she’s been hauled off to the slaughterhouse.

Fifty gold. To him, pocket change. But to most businessmen, it was a fairly large sum. Even for House Spencer, it wouldn’t be money easily covered.

Raymond asked her,

“Have you had your lunch, by any chance?”

Charlotte’s mouth parted slightly.

If I say I haven’t, will he offer to eat together?

This wasn’t exactly a conversation to have over a cozy meal, was it? It would surely sit in her stomach like a stone. Charlotte’s instinct was to say she’d already eaten, but…

He’s asking this because he hasn’t eaten, isn’t he?

Charlotte answered with a faint smile.

“I haven’t eaten yet.”

“I see. Then let’s start with a meal. I’m not terribly fond of the feeling of being hungry, you see.”

Raymond lied. Caught up in busy work, he’d go without eating, not even noticing his hunger, more times than he could count. Even now he’d had nothing since dinner the night before, but he wasn’t particularly hungry. The reason he’d suggested eating first anyway was that Charlotte’s complexion looked, plain as day, like that of someone who’d been starving since yesterday.

“Let’s go.”

“Ah—yes. Thank you…”

When Raymond led the way, Charlotte followed behind him. Listening to the elegant footsteps trailing along after him, Raymond smiled without a sound.

Heh-heh, wait for me!

You were a child who never knew how to walk, only to scurry busily about at a run. Still, grown a bit now, she knows how to walk like that. But you’re as tiny as ever, so if I widen my stride even a little, you’ll have no choice but to walk at almost a run.

So I’d best walk as leisurely as I can. For a man who’d always lived in a rush, walking this way was a touch awkward, but it wasn’t so difficult he couldn’t manage it.

* * *

Raymond said not a word until the entire meal was finished. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to make her uncomfortable, at least during the meal. Charlotte was grateful for his consideration, but even so, she couldn’t feel entirely at ease. Eating with no conversation at all was, in its own way, a trial too.

“You’ve no appetite, it seems. Seeing as you’ve left more than half of every dish. Or was it not to your taste?”

Once the meal was over, sipping coffee, he asked. Charlotte’s eyes trembled. The two of them had been seated quite far apart—had he seen all that?

“No. It was delicious. It’s just that the portions were too much for me to eat. I should have said so beforehand—I’m sorry.”

Small portions, hm. The Charlotte he remembered was a child who’d cram her mouth full of bread and still clutch fistfuls more in both hands.

The image of her looking ready to pop! like a balloon at the lightest poke came back to him, and Raymond let out a small laugh.

Why is he suddenly laughing? Does he not believe I have a small appetite?

Just as Charlotte was forming this odd misunderstanding, he set down his cup and said,

“It’s quite all right. More to the point—shall we talk about that matter now?”

“Yes.”

Just as Charlotte answered, swallowing dryly, a maid set a cake drizzled with sweet cream before her. And along with it, some sort of paper, too.

When Charlotte turned the paper over, she could make out a clearly written 100 gold and the seal of Days Trading, among other things.

What sort of person shows you a receipt with such a terrifying sum on it so carelessly.

Just as Charlotte’s eyes went wide as if they’d pop out, Raymond said,

“As you can see, the pottery that met its end yesterday is a genuine hundred-gold piece. That’s the amount paid, excluding tax.”

“Yes…”

“Fifty gold—if I asked you to hand it over right this instant, could you?”

“Um, if you’d give me a little time…”

“How much? A month? Two? Could you pay it all back in that span?”

It was, of course, impossible. Just as Charlotte was about to propose the method Elena had meant to ask him for, he moved his lips to speak.

“Might I propose another method for you to settle the fifty gold? Ah—rather than call it settling a debt, it would be more accurate to call it a deal.”

“What sort of method?”

Charlotte awaited his answer with a trembling heart. But what he said was no ordinary shock of a statement.

“I’ll buy your time for fifty gold.”

Charlotte blinked her wide-open eyes rapidly.

“What did you just say?”

“I said I’ll buy your time for fifty gold.”

Wh-what does that mean? Just as Charlotte’s pupils wandered aimlessly, Raymond leaned his upper body forward and said,

“You’ll have heard about me, I expect.”

When Charlotte nodded, he continued in a matter-of-fact tone.

“I’ve lived run ragged by work all this time, and I’m in the middle of a long-overdue holiday. The original plan was to leisurely explore every corner of this beautiful Glasko. But touring around alone turned out not to be all that enjoyable. Since I hadn’t made arrangements with anyone, I kept canceling and ended up just lying about at home… With that repeating over and over, I never did get to see Glasko in the end. Ah—come to think of it, I’ve never been to the parties the others throw, either. Even when they invited me, attending alone felt awkward, so I kept declining all of them.”

Charlotte understood Raymond’s words and was puzzled by them at the same time. For someone like him, surely finding a suitable companion would be no trouble at all?

In that instant, as if he’d read her thoughts, he said,

“That said, asking one of the others would feel burdensome—they’d likely hope to grow close with me. When I’m someone who’ll be leaving here a year from now anyway.”

Had anyone else said such a thing, she might well have shot them a sidelong look and wondered where all that confidence came from, but coming from Raymond, her head nodded along of its own accord.

“And if, mindful of that, I went about securing a different partner every time, that in itself would invite strange rumors of its own.”

“It would, I suppose.”

“That’s why I’m asking you, my lady. You, like me, are someone who’ll be leaving here before long. And as it happens, you’ve something to repay me as well. Could there be a tidier arrangement than this?”

Knitting her brow, Charlotte deliberated a moment, then slowly parted her lips.

“…You’d really write off a full fifty gold just for, what, spending time together?”

Charlotte’s voice trembled faintly. Honestly, she couldn’t believe it. Perhaps he had some other, hidden purpose?

Then Raymond opened his mouth. Charlotte worried that some dreadful line might emerge from those beautiful lips—something like, Why are you playing innocent? I’m writing off fifty gold; of course it’s no ordinary sort of meeting. But—

“That’s right. What, shall I have you do some cleaning, then?”

Raymond countered, as if to ask why she’d inquire after something so obvious. Unless he was a tremendous actor, it seemed unlikely there was any other meaning hidden behind that expression. Charlotte was greatly relieved, but even so, she couldn’t readily accept his proposal. Because—

Taking a short, deep breath, she asked Raymond the thing she’d been wanting to ask him for some time.

“…Do you, by any chance, know what happened to me?”

“Who can say. We met only yesterday—what could I possibly know?”

“So you really know nothing at all?”

The signs of tension were plain on Charlotte’s face, yet there was a strength in her gaze all the same. As if to say don’t even think of deceiving me.

“…No. I know.”

Raymond answered in a voice low and sunken, almost like a sigh.

“…I thought you might.”

Charlotte gave a bitter smile. The expression he’d worn when he first called out to her hadn’t been that of someone who’d happened upon a person they’d merely heard about in passing.

“Since coming to Glasko, I haven’t gone out even once, not until now.”

“Why is that? Was it that you’d grown afraid of facing people because of what happened?”

“Yes.”

At the grave voice that didn’t waver, Raymond, without realizing it, clenched his fist tight.

“I was truly afraid people would recognize me. I still am.”

The distance between Glasko and Sandem was considerable, but among the nobility, bad news and news concerning money traveled fast above all else.

So someone in Glasko’s upper class might already have heard Charlotte’s story. And the malicious version of it that Viscountess Roman had crafted, at that.

“They may not point fingers openly the way they did in Sandem, but they’ll gossip. If it ended with just me being maligned, that would be one thing, but House Spencer could be dragged into the talk as well.”

Charlotte disliked being maligned herself, but the thought of House Spencer taking undeserved talk on her account she disliked beyond all comparison.

And…

“You, too, Mr. Bayen, might end up the subject of needless talk for being seen with me.”