Chapter 09
The Man Who Will Kill Me (2)
“Everything that seems suspicious. How the marquis came to find his granddaughter, how she lived in the orphanage, all the miscellaneous details.”
Joseph pronounced each word slowly and clearly.
Under the dim candlelight, Anje met the man’s vivid blue eyes and bit her lip, at a loss for words.
“Do I need to repeat myself?”
“No, Your Grace. It’s just such an unexpected request… If I’ve offended you, I apologize. Lady Crowe’s beauty and refinement are so often praised, after all.”
The “Black Wolf” looked momentarily flustered, then smoothed it over with an easy smile.
For an instant, over the woman’s unreadable face, Joseph saw Hildegarde Crowe smiling warmly at him.
Of course, the two had nothing in common.
Joseph studied Anje carefully.
He had imagined the head of the Black Wolves to be a formidable man of great skill, but the woman before him was small and ordinary. Perhaps the name “Black Wolf” came simply from her dark hair and eyes.
“Is there anything in particular you want investigated in detail?”
“If something turns up, I suppose so.”
The duke, who had arrived unannounced in the middle of the night, replied with striking indifference and sat down on a nearby sofa, closing his eyes.
As soon as he sat, a wave of exhaustion hit him.
When did I last sleep? The day before yesterday? Or even earlier?
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d truly rested.
Joseph’s insomnia grew worse each day. Whenever he lay down to sleep, nightmares inevitably swallowed him whole.
A battlefield filled with screams. Wading helplessly through a swamp of blood until morning broke. On such days, he was so drained he might as well not have tried to sleep at all.
Eyes burning and stinging as though aflame, Joseph exhaled a deep sigh and unconsciously let his head tip back.
If I can close my eyes for just a moment… maybe this pain will fade…
“Your Grace! Your Grace? You can’t sleep here. This place isn’t fit for anyone to stay the night.”
A hand shook his shoulder. Joseph opened his eyes with a start, bewildered.
He’d only shut them for a moment, yet outside it was already bright. As he forced his heavy eyelids open, a voice spoke beside him.
“If you’re tired, you should return home to sleep.”
The woman’s voice carried a hint of fatigue and irritation.
Blinking several times, Joseph spoke, his voice unexpectedly hoarse.
“Did I… fall asleep?”
Anje sighed openly at his dazed expression.
“Yes. I’m amazed you could sleep here at all.”
The night had been so eerie that even Anje, who had scolded Gray earlier, had seriously considered going to an inn. She had planned to look for another place to stay after the duke left. But then Duke Side, leaning on the sofa, suddenly went silent.
So sudden was his stillness that, fearing something was wrong, she’d checked his pulse just to be sure.
The once-finicky duke was, to her surprise, deeply asleep.
Unbelievable.
“I slept?” Joseph repeated, incredulous.
“Do you think I’d lie? The sun is already high. You didn’t stir no matter how many times I called you.”
Anje’s eyes flicked toward the shoulder she had been shaking.
Thanks to this uninvited guest, she had spent the night in her own house as though under guard. Yet the duke had slept like a stone.
She was exasperated but forced her face into calm.
“I had no choice but to lay a hand on Your Grace. Forgive me.”
He raised one hand slightly, signaling he didn’t mind her boldness. In truth, Joseph felt better than he had in ages.
It was astonishing how refreshed he felt after dozing awkwardly on a filthy sofa.
The pounding headache had eased, and the gritty burn in his eyes was gone.
Realizing this, Joseph grew more generous—enough to forgive her for daring to touch him.
A faint smile appeared on Duke Joseph Side’s face.
Since the war, such an expression was rare, though the woman before him wouldn’t know. Judging by her look, she only wanted him gone as quickly as possible.
“I’ll decide whether to accept the request after a preliminary investigation. As I said, I’m retired; the new leader, Gray, will handle the work. For today, if you would just head back—”
“Head back?”
Joseph echoed her words with a lifted brow.
Even if the old class system meant less these days, for someone to order him to leave was bold indeed.
Either she had powerful backing or was simply reckless, but Joseph chose to be indulgent.
Realizing her slip, Anje stiffened and averted her gaze, then sighed and took out a pen.
Duke Side was a man she ought to avoid at all costs, yet he was also someone who never gave up. Avoidance wasn’t an option.
As Gray had warned, finding another lodging would have been wiser. Her stubbornness had brought this trouble.
While Anje hesitated, Joseph spoke slowly.
“It seems this house needs repairs.”
“Yes, it does,” Anje admitted, face clouded.
A sly smile played on Joseph’s lips.
“You really don’t know, do you?”
“…What?”
He shrugged, noting her truly clueless look.
“I heard you’re an information broker.”
Anje’s face hardened at the mocking tone.
“Being an information broker doesn’t mean I know everything.”
Her talents came more from intuition than any formal network. Born to noble parents but raised in the slums, she couldn’t possibly know every detail of high-society rules.
“Well, it’s not exactly profitable information. I understand.”
His tone conveyed anything but understanding.
Anje ground her teeth silently as Joseph continued.
“Do you know why this house remained unsold and neglected?”
“Well…”
She opened her mouth to argue but found no words.
“Primrose Hill is home to the empire’s highest nobles. You can’t simply hire workers to renovate here. Even the smallest repairs require meticulous approval.”
“Ah!”
Anje’s eyes widened in sudden realization. No wonder the house had been so cheap. Anything to do with real estate felt like a scam to her—her blood pressure spiked.
“And with a house needing this much work… you can imagine. Renovations are difficult, and reselling it won’t be easy.”
Joseph glanced around, frowning theatrically.
“…This wretched property… my money…”
She had only wanted to fulfill her mother’s wish. Nothing was simple.
Those swindlers…!
As Anje pressed a hand to her forehead, Joseph strolled through the dusty living room. The floor creaked ominously beneath his steps.
“But I might be able to help.”
“…How?”
Catching the hint of hope in her voice, Joseph chuckled.
“The empire’s laws generally favor nobles—especially here in Primrose Hill.”
Aside from the emperor, Joseph’s rank was second to none. His word could bend rules.
Anje’s brows knit, already guessing where this was going. He felt like another kind of con artist.
“If you accept my commission, you might secure a new house. On the condition that the Black Wolf herself takes the job. Well?”
Was this what it felt like to be caught in a trap? Uneasy but with no real choice, Anje replied.
“I will carry out this commission perfectly. Please tell me the specific suspicions or questions you have.”
Her swift change of tone drew a short laugh from Joseph. Anje only gave him a flat look.
What else could I do?
She had no desire to get entangled with him, but the duke was a man who never took no for an answer.
Indeed, his fortune foretold as much.
Even his birth chart shows stubbornness, and with two ‘jangjeongsal’ signs…
With such signs, he was destined to be immovable. Even if Anje tried every trick to drive him away, he wouldn’t budge.
Since she’d have to accept anyway, she might as well ensure she got something out of it. She sat opposite him and lifted her pen.
When Anje posed her question, Joseph tilted his head in thought. Truthfully, he had little complaint about Hildegarde herself.
She was beautiful, inheriting the looks of the young viscount and Sienna who had once stirred high society.
Her manners, self-taught, were better than those of many noblewomen with expensive tutors. She was kind too, happily keeping company with his shy younger sister.
“Still…” Joseph rubbed his chin, frowning.
He knew the meaning behind Hildegarde’s subtle glances and alluring smiles. At his age, it was time to think of marriage or engagement, and she would make an excellent wife.
Yet as he narrowed his eyes, something nagged at him.
As a wife, Hildegarde was ideal. And yet… something felt off.
That was his recent dilemma.
Some in society mocked Hildegarde as a “half-baked” noble because of her murky past, but Joseph didn’t care. High society thrived on gossip and jealousy, especially toward a young, beautiful woman who had risen from common birth.
His mother, Elena, disapproved of Hildegarde as well, but that didn’t trouble him.
He had never seen a daughter-in-law truly close to her mother-in-law. Public harmony often hid private discord.
His mother seemed especially dissatisfied with Hildegarde’s vague answers whenever asked about her own mother, Lady Sienna.
She speaks with tears in her eyes, yet there’s a strange indifference.
The dowager still remembered with fondness the days when she and Lady Sienna had been close before Sienna’s family fell into ruin. Naturally she asked about her old friend often, and Hildegarde always gave the same simple replies—“She missed you greatly,” or “She suffered.”
At first those words moved the dowager to tears, but hearing the same thing repeatedly made her suspicious.
Joseph, however, thought little of it.
The problem lay with him.
Whenever Hildegarde smiled radiantly and leaned close, an inexplicable, insect-like chill crawled down his back.
He was no stranger to women, but he had never felt this way before.
Even when sharing tea with his introverted sister Mariana and Hildegarde, he sensed it.
Hildegarde was always considerate and kind, yet something about it left a vague unease.
Perhaps he was simply becoming like the rest of society—idly suspicious and gossipy.
I have been away from the estate too long, using my injuries as an excuse.
The duplicitous world of the capital’s social scene was ill-suited to him.
If the Black Wolf confirmed Hildegarde as the marquis’s true granddaughter, Joseph planned to marry her and retreat to his lands, never to return to this tiresome capital.
And this time, he would finally bring the war to an end.
