Chapter 3.2

“That’s why I told you not to get your hopes up. You shouldn’t expect anything from men.”

“What hopes? I don’t have any expectations for him!”

Danielle huffed and threw a pillow onto the bed. Beneath the flattened feather pillow, the long ears of her rabbit doll, Lily, peeked out. As Brie pulled out Lily and retied the ribbon around its neck, she tried to console her lady.

“That’s exactly what expectations are. Hoping he’d consider your position, care about your feelings a little more… Those are the worst expectations you can have for men. You’d be better off hoping for something reasonable, like, ‘Maybe he’ll propose tomorrow.’”

“I don’t care. And I’m not getting married.”

“Miss, you’re not ten years old anymore…”

“When I was ten, I couldn’t get married. Now that I’m twenty-two, I’m saying I won’t.”

What kind of nonsense logic is this? 

Brie thought. She had no idea how to process the fact that the so-called “star of the Royal Investigation Bureau,” her brilliant lady, had been dragged into this pit of illogical reasoning by a man hailed as the “hope of the Knights.”

The reason for today’s fight, as Danielle had angrily explained upon storming in, was so absurd from Brie’s perspective that she didn’t even know how to respond.

Danielle hugged the rabbit doll tightly and flopped onto the bed, rolling half a turn. She buried her face in the crumpled pillow, lying still until she couldn’t breathe, then suddenly lifted her head with a sharp exhale.

“Seriously, Brie. How on earth did you manage to get married?”

“Not just me, Miss. The Master and Lady of the house are married, as are Master Xasha and Lady Lyudmila.”

“What am I supposed to learn from any of those examples?”

There’s far more to learn from noble marriages than from mine…

Brie thought but still tried to think of some marriage advice she could offer her lady.

It was common for maids who lived and worked on-site to quit after getting married, but Brie’s husband, a member of a large trading company, spent more time away from the capital than in it. Naturally, the twenty-seven-year-old experienced maid had continued her duties, taking slightly more vacation time. As she absentmindedly cracked her knuckles, her face suddenly turned red.

“Well… He said no one else but me would do.”

“Wow.”

“When he said it while crying, there was no way I could refuse.”

Crying? 

Danielle had, of course, met Brie’s husband. He was even taller than Cyril and had a strong presence that was more rugged than handsome. Imagining such a man kneeling before Brie, sobbing and confessing that no one else but her would do… As Danielle embellished the scene with fictional details, it became so captivating that she unconsciously nodded.

“Well, I suppose that would make someone consider marriage.”

“Just don’t expect Young Master Cyril to cry and propose! You two wouldn’t even need to send rings through a servant to suggest combining your lives. Oh, not that the Young Master would ever do that.”

“If he did, I’d kill him… But why rings?”

“Miss! Don’t act like you’ve never thought about marriage before!”

Brie waved her hand, showing off her plain wedding band. She never took off the simple ring, as if it were a part of her husband, who was absent for months at a time.

Looking at Brie’s wedding ring, Danielle suddenly became dreamy and stroked the back of her hand.

“I think an emerald would suit your wedding ring, Miss.”

“Not a diamond?”

“Gemstone rings should match the color of one’s eyes. That way, they stand out and are easy to wear every day.”

With that statement, Brie managed to drive Danielle out of the room, claiming she needed to tidy up the bed. Left with nowhere to go, Danielle was forced into the bathroom, where she splashed herself with cold water. In doing so, she forgot to tell Brie, 

‘So now I have absolutely nothing to do during the summer festival holidays.’

***

And so, on the seventh day of the summer festival, as the festivities reached their peak, Danielle was bored out of her mind.

Her older brother Xasha and older sister Lyudmila, who had traveled from their estate on the first day of the festival, spent some time half-comforting and half-teasing their sister, who had fought with her fiancé. But as the family reunion grew tedious, they each linked arms with their spouses and went off to explore the capital.

Though she was too old to ask her parents to entertain her, they, too, seemed to have their own ways of enjoying the festival. The household staff were on special rotational holidays for the duration of the festival, leaving the mansion eerily quiet. Even Brie, who usually took the most pity on Danielle, had gone off to spend time with her husband. Left entirely alone, Danielle truly had nothing to do and no one to spend time with.

‘I shouldn’t have called Cyril an idiot.’

To think that a single canceled ball could leave her this devoid of purpose—it made her feel like she had been living life all wrong. Danielle sat blankly on a chair in her dressing room, staring at her ball gown.

The dress, which Brie had taken out and retouched the previous night “just in case,” was a deep blue, like the night sky. From the waist upward, it gradually lightened to a soft silver, preventing Danielle’s long black hair from blending into the fabric.

Admittedly, the color would have suited Cyril better, but it wasn’t bad. In fact, it looked quite good on her. The emerald necklace she had bought to match her green eyes was more than enough to complete the look… 

Not that I’ll ever get to wear it.

Danielle tugged at the hem of the dress absentmindedly before changing into a light shirt and pants. She was determined to find something more enjoyable to do than having a staring contest with her gown. There was only one other place, besides home, where she was always welcome.

“You’re here! Perfect timing!”

“What’s this? Aren’t you all supposed to be busy?”

“Well, you—no, never mind. Just glad you’re here! Really glad!”

Danielle hadn’t expected such an enthusiastic welcome. She stared in disbelief at the men in the middle of the office, who looked ready to break into a dance at her arrival. While she could understand Ivan, the Royal Mage on assignment, being there, she couldn’t figure out why Lawrence Weiss, who was supposed to be out on fieldwork today, was present. 

And what was he holding…?

“Um… please tell me Sir Ivan didn’t melt Lea.”

“Lea’s fine at home! But yes, this is her dress.”

Lawrence, who towered over everyone, came rushing toward her, still clutching the dazzling dress of gold and black. The sight was so bizarre that Danielle instinctively stepped back, looking for the door. But to her dismay, Sir Ivan Nazari had already shut it tightly. The frail mage, who looked as though he had never moved faster than anyone in his life, was now panting as he stared at her.

“You’ve arrived at just the right time. We need someone like you right now.”

“…I’m not being re-interviewed for the Investigation Bureau, am I? Am I still a trainee?”

“How could you say something so hurtful! You’re the star of the Bureau—we’re asking for a huge favor.”

“A favor?”

The urgency in their tone suggested that they were in serious need of her help. Danielle, who had come to work planning to leisurely review some documents, straightened her posture as her expression hardened. Lawrence, still clutching the dress, began to explain. The earlier commotion had vanished like it had melted away.

“We received a message from Jermi early this morning. Tonight’s royal ball is the meeting point with the contact.”

“What? Senior Jermi’s still at the port, right?”

Danielle glanced at the stack of case files piled on the far side of the room. Today’s original target was the spice smuggling case, neatly organized by Katarin.

The so-called “spice” smuggling case involved a monopoly item that only the royal family could profit from through purchases. The spice, a source of wealth that Roigar had used to buy up the entire kingdom, traveled across the sea and up rivers to reach the capital. Though it appeared to be a dull brown crop, once refined, it became a pale powder that emitted a mesmerizing fragrance.

For anyone other than the royal family, importing it was considered smuggling. Since the royal family didn’t pay taxes, there were no tariffs on the luxury item, making it difficult to determine what crime to charge smugglers with. A secret tip had recently led the Royal Investigation Bureau to uncover a lead on this smuggling operation. Without informing anyone, the Bureau had made a bold decision to investigate independently. Customs fell under the Bureau’s jurisdiction, while the royal family was under the Knights’ jurisdiction. The ambitious Bureau chief had decided not to let the Knights take credit for such a significant case.