Chapter 12
While Trisha was busy giving the butler a proper lesson, a very different scene was unfolding at the Ikarud Ducal Estate. Butler Hemington was observing his young master with keen interest.
‘Something definitely happened today.’
It was obvious. After all, Caesar had been acting completely out of character since that morning. He had returned home soaking wet, like a drowned rat. Without saying much, he’d hurriedly changed clothes and rushed out again, only to come back just before dusk. Claiming to feel suffocated, he had wandered the garden for hours and was only now preparing for bed. Even now, he was muttering to himself—something he never did.
“Damn it. That woman—what the hell happened with her?”
Caesar raked a hand through his hair.
His chiseled face was clearly troubled. The aging butler, hanging his master’s coat on the rack, tilted his head slightly.
‘How strange. I never expected to see him so uncomposed.’
Had the merchants he met this morning pushed back on negotiations? Were the trade ships attacked by pirates? He considered various possibilities, but none seemed likely.
Caesar was not the kind of man to overreact to routine matters.
“Young Master.”
Although it had been proper to change the honorific since Caesar came of age, Hemington had continued to call him “Young Master” for years.
It suited the butler, and Caesar didn’t seem to mind.
In fact, Caesar, who hated crossing boundaries more than anything, allowed only a select few exceptions—and Hemington was one of them.
“……”
Caesar didn’t respond. Instead, he flicked a cold, sharp gaze toward the butler. Most would have frozen under such a look, but Hemington’s smile didn’t falter in the slightest.
He had served two generations—from the previous Duke of Ikarud to the current young one. There was little he didn’t know about Caesar. He’d been serving him since he was an infant, but even so, he had rarely seen Caesar this shaken.
Hemington finally spoke.
“Did something happen, Young Master?”
“Hemington. Have you ever seen someone’s personality suddenly change?”
A question in response to a question. Most would’ve been caught off guard, but Hemington answered calmly, his seasoned experience on full display.
“Almost never. As the Great Sage once said, people don’t change—they aren’t things to be fixed.”
“……Yeah. I figured.”
“Ah, but there is one case when it happens.”
“There is?”
“People change when they’re about to die.”
Caesar’s expression darkened even more. Trying to lighten the mood, Hemington tossed out a light joke.
“Surely you’re not dying anytime soon, are you, Young Master?”
“Hemington.”
“Haha, just a joke, sir.”
As the butler laughed heartily, a trace of amusement flickered across Caesar’s face. Hemington knew exactly how to lift his young master’s mood. With a discreet signal to a nearby servant, a pristine white teacup was brought into the room. The calming scent of lavender filled the air.
“You did go to the harbor this morning, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“The coat you left with me reeked of seawater. Did you happen to take a swim in this freezing weather?”
“……”
“I thought you were meeting the merchant captain who’d just returned from Lille?”
Caesar averted his eyes. A telltale sign that the butler had hit the mark.
“You rushed out again right after changing. Are you feeling alright?”
Still silent, Caesar dropped into an armchair, running his hand through his hair again. His straight forehead peeked out from beneath his blue locks.
‘Looks like he won’t recover his mood anytime soon tonight.’
After dismissing the servants, Hemington personally lifted the teapot and refilled his master’s cup.
Pouring…
As the richer scent of lavender filled the room, Caesar silently reached for the cup. He didn’t speak until he brought it close to his nose. His favorite scent lingered gently around him.
At the same time, a pair of lavender-colored eyes floated back into his mind.
‘Trisha.’
Unconsciously, he bit his lip. Observing this, Hemington offered a soft smile.
“I hope this old man’s foolish jokes haven’t burdened your heart too much.”
“……So she really did jump in to die.”
It was an answer that didn’t match the question. A tiny mutter, almost unrelated, but a competent butler missed nothing. Feigning ignorance, Hemington gently steered the conversation.
“Who are you referring to?”
“A woman fell into the sea.”
“Oh dear. Was she someone you knew?”
“……No. A stranger. I just happened to be the only one around, so I rescued her.”
‘Hmm. A lie. But why lie about it?’
When Caesar lies, his left eyelid—under the eye with the small mole—twitches ever so slightly. He didn’t notice it, but unfortunately for him, Hemington already knew every one of his tells.
“To be at the harbor on a day like this… Must be someone unusual.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Was your second outing also because of this woman?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
In other words, stop prying. Hemington smiled and gracefully took a step back.
“Yes, of course. I overstepped.”
“……”
“Still, I’m glad you’re not hurt. If you’re tired, you should rest at the estate for a few days.”
No reply. Caesar continued to stare out the snow-covered window, an unreadable emotion flickering across his face.
Confusion, frustration, anger, and…
Longing?
Hemington raised a white eyebrow, then spoke sharply.
“Was it Lady Triciaren who fell into the sea?”
“……!”
Caesar’s eyes trembled. Then he quickly turned his head and stood up from his chair, but it was too late—he’d already been seen through. His reaction was nothing like his usual composed self.
Seeing his master so thoroughly unmasked, Hemington smiled inwardly.
‘I was right.’
Passing by the flustered Caesar, Hemington approached the bed with a satisfied grin. He picked up the neatly folded navy nightgown and approached to help his master change.
“You wore that same expression back then too.”
“Back when?”
“You may not remember. You were just a child.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Caesar’s face had already returned to its usual cold, unreadable mask. The air in the room had turned icy. Any ordinary servant would have fled in fear by now—but the experienced butler held the upper hand.
“You came home looking utterly devastated—like the world had ended. You were only twelve.”
“……!”
“I still remember that look as if it were yesterday.”
His tone was light and playful, but Caesar’s face twisted again. Rare were the chances to tease his always composed master—Hemington wasn’t about to waste this one.
“It’s been ten years already. You’ve grown into such a fine young man.”
“Spare me the sentiment.”
“Lady Trisha must have grown into a stunning lady by now, too.”
“……!”
“She never leaves the estate, so it’s all just rumor, but still.”
“I’m tired. I’ll sleep now.”
“If she’s as beautiful as she was as a child, she must be quite the enchantress now. Don’t you think, Young Master?”
Caesar gave a tight smile and shot a piercing glare at the butler. But Hemington held his ground, his smile unwavering.
Finally, Caesar turned his head away.
“That’s enough, Hemington.”
“Yes, sir.”
“That was ten years ago. I’ve long forgotten.”
“Of course. It was a very long time ago.”
“Exactly. Ancient history.”
“Besides, Lady Triciaren will become a Grand Duchess tomorrow.”
“……”
Caesar opened his mouth as if to say something but then closed it. Hemington, unfazed, quietly stepped back. Still, he didn’t forget to hang up the newly tailored formal attire on a rack nearby. It was meant for the upcoming wedding of the houses of Twarlen and Kainan.
“I’ll hang this here for you, sir.”
“Do as you please.”
It was a grand union between two noble houses. Naturally, all of the Empire’s aristocracy would attend. As one of the Five Ducal Houses, Ikarud had also received an invitation—one of the first, right after the imperial family.
Wondering, perhaps, Hemington cautiously asked,
“Will you be attending the wedding tomorrow, sir?”
“I’ll send a proxy. There’s no reason I need to go personally.”
A disinterested tone.
“If you don’t go, people might say you’re still holding a torch for Lady Triciaren.”
“I don’t care about such rumors.”
“Perhaps. But what about Lady Triciaren?”
“……”
“There will be plenty of nobles tomorrow who disapprove of this engagement.”
“That has nothing to do with me.”
“Of course. I was just concerned.”
“Concerned, huh.”
“People love to tie scandalous rumors to new brides.”
“How generous of you to worry about another house’s daughter.”
“Just pointing out the obvious. That’s how society works, doesn’t it?”
“Society?”
“Ruining someone’s life with a few rumors—that’s practically a sport for them.”
Caesar’s face visibly twisted in displeasure.
