CHAPTER 10
A Subtle Smile
Drawing Room.
Calix sat across from Marie with a small table between them.
Then, his eyes were immediately drawn to a corner where there was some black charcoal and a split onion.
“What’s that?”
Marie followed Calix’s gaze and smiled faintly.
“Oh, that? Charcoal and onions are good for neutralizing paint smells or new house odors.”
“Charcoal and onions?”
“Yes. Charcoal removes carcinogens and purifies fine dust. Onions contain hydrogen sulfide, which has a strong and pungent scent—it absorbs unpleasant smells.”
“How would you even know that…”
Calix trailed off before he could finish the question and quickly shook his head.
Marie had pushed a document in front of him.
“Duke, in the case of a missing person, there’s a six-month grace period before death can be officially confirmed.”
Calix frowned and took the document.
“The trade ship that Count Henry Whitehouse boarded sank in the middle of the sea. This isn’t your average missing person case.”
“Regardless, since Henry’s body hasn’t been found, Baron Nathan Barrett cannot inherit the countship for six months.”
What Marie handed over was an official certificate from the Royal Supreme Court, stating that—at the request of the bereaved—the title of count would remain valid until the six-month mark after Henry’s disappearance.
“Until then, I will be acting as the temporary count. That means your contract with Baron Barrett is, in principle, null and void.”
“…!”
Calix was stunned and couldn’t take his eyes off Marie’s face.
Even with a formal objection, there was no way the Royal Supreme Court would have issued such a certificate lightly.
Did this woman defeat the court clerks with logic?
Or perhaps…
The image of her wielding a paintbrush at Nathan Barrett came to mind.
“…”
Unconsciously, Calix straightened the legs he had crossed.
“So the baron doesn’t have the authority to sell the mansion yet.”
“Correct.”
A satisfied smile appeared on Marie’s lips, and a dimple formed on one cheek.
“…”
Calix bit his lip gently.
“What are you planning to do in six months? You don’t actually believe he’ll come back alive, do you?”
“Not exactly…”
“The acting count is just that—an agent. You don’t have the authority to make decisions about the Whitehouse estate. In the end, you’ll be in the same situation again in six months.”
Calix’s voice grew thick with doubt.
But Marie remained perfectly composed.
“No, the Supreme Court acknowledged that there was a procedural issue. That’s why I’ve agreed to be reviewed to determine if I can continue to lead the household after six months.”
“…Do you know what qualifications are required to pass that review?”
Calix asked coldly.
It was hard to imagine that a noble lady who had been shut in at home could pass such a test.
“Yes. I plan to start a business. I’ll prove that it benefits the kingdom’s culture and economy.”
One of his eyebrows arched over the mask. The idea of her starting a business didn’t sound very convincing.
“What kind of business?”
“…Interior design.”
Considering that Henry Whitehouse had been a top expert in interior design, it was understandable.
Clearly, she planned to leverage her late brother’s reputation.
“Do you think interior design can be profitable? Enough to turn things around in six months?”
“I believe it’s a business that can bring in more profit than expected.”
“Making money by decorating noble houses?”
Marie took a deep breath and replied.
“The market is much broader than that. Interior design deals with spaces where people spend time. That could be homes, but also stores, restaurants—anywhere people gather. Even the chair you’re sitting on is a kind of space.”
“A chair…?”
Calix’s expression subtly changed at the word “chair.”
“I aim to provide the best for all kinds of spaces, big and small. There’s bound to be demand for differentiated interiors.”
He shifted the topic back to the chair.
“A chair is a space, huh… But how much profit could you possibly make from selling chairs?”
“Depends on the chair. Prices vary depending on the customer.”
“Is that so? Then how much would you sell that rocking chair I saw outside for?”
There was a faint tension in his voice.
“The rocking… chair?”
“Yes. It was quite unique.”
Why is he suddenly asking about that chair’s price?
It was true she had started refurbishing furniture to make some money.
But she didn’t remember ever saying it was for sale.
Still, hearing him compliment the chair made her unconsciously excited, and she began explaining the refurbishing process enthusiastically.
“Dwayne stripped off the old paint with superhuman strength. He’s really talented! Once that was done, the wood grain looked amazing. I realized there was no need to repaint it.”
“…”
“So I just finished it with an oil stain—it turned out perfectly! I didn’t expect the restoration to be that successful…”
Just as she was getting excited, Calix cut to the point.
“Since we’re on the subject, name your price. I’ll… I’ll buy it.”
Marie was momentarily flustered.
Just a few days ago he ordered me to vacate the house, and now he wants to buy the chair out of the blue?
She couldn’t tell if he was serious or joking.
She didn’t want to be swept up in his pace.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t plan to sell that chair.”
“Why not?”
Calix’s eyes flashed sharply for a moment.
“…Because it’s impossible to put a price on it. You can’t put a monetary value on Dwayne’s dedication. I won’t sell it.”
“Not even if I insist?”
It might have been her imagination, but his lips seemed to stiffen slightly.
“Yes.”
He looked more displeased now than when she had told him the contract for the mansion was invalid.
Marie flinched but tilted her head slightly.
It was hard to understand what exactly had upset him.
“…”
After a moment of silence, he changed the subject, as if something had piqued his curiosity from the beginning.
“How do you know so much about interior design? Everything you said is new to me.”
“Oh, that…”
He was asking how someone who had supposedly lived as a recluse could know such things.
But now that the question was out there, she suddenly couldn’t think of an answer.
She couldn’t say she used to be an interior designer.
Nor could she just make up a convincing lie on the spot.
I should’ve prepared for this kind of question ahead of time…
Just then, Mildred suddenly spoke up.
“Miss Marianne learned interior design directly from the late count.”
Calix turned to look behind him.
His eyes were sharp.
“Did I ask you?”
“I-I’m sorry!”
Mildred immediately went pale.
She had spoken out because she didn’t trust her mistress to answer well, but she realized too late what a mistake that was.
For a maid to interrupt a noble’s conversation—especially in front of a high-ranking duke—was a grave offense.
And dukes held immediate disciplinary authority over commoners.
Meaning Calix could punish Mildred on the spot if he wished.
“L-Lord Duke! I-I was terribly rude…”
Mildred suddenly dropped to her knees.
Her brown eyes welled with tears, and her whole body trembled as if her life was hanging by a thread.
Marie was alarmed despite herself.
Her opponent was a man rumored to treat servant lives like bugs.
Surely he wouldn’t actually do anything to Mildred… would he?
But Calix’s towering 190cm frame and broad shoulders looked even more imposing now.
He reminded her of a black panther ready to pounce.
His crimson eyes glinted like a predator’s.
As if Mildred’s life hung on the tip of his tongue.
“F-Forgive me…”
He said nothing to her desperate plea.
But his displeasure was obvious.
Marie began to feel a little afraid, too.
How could he stay silent even after such earnest begging?
“This can’t go on!”
Marie shot up and shielded Mildred behind her. If the duke made a snap judgment, it would be hard to reverse.
She had to stop him.
“M-Miss?”
Mildred looked up at Marie with wide, tear-filled eyes, trembling all over.
“Mildred is my person!”
Marie held Mildred tightly, as if she would never let her go.
She couldn’t lose her without even a fight.
“What are you doing…?”
Calix flinched slightly at her action but began to look even more annoyed.
His red eyes were filled with incredulity and disdain.
Marie stared straight back at him and declared:
“No matter your title, you can’t punish my people as you please!”
Calix’s lips tightened.
“So Mildred is that maid’s name. Do you think I’d kill her or something?”
His voice was ice cold.
“…Huh?”
Marie’s confusion came out as a stunned noise.
Did he say “kill her or something”? Not “keep her alive”?
Cold sweat ran down her back.
She had jumped the gun.
How could she be so rude to a guest based on rumors alone?
“…I apologize.”
Marie tried to ease the awkward atmosphere.
“I… I don’t think I’ve properly introduced her yet.”
“Introduced?”
“This is… my secretary, Mildred.”
A noble lady’s secretary was allowed to participate in conversations naturally.
If Mildred was a secretary and not a maid, then it wasn’t rude for her to speak up.
“Gasp…!”
Mildred let out a choked sound. Her eyes looked like they would pop out of her head.
Not only had Marie protected her, she had just promoted her!
Being a secretary was a role usually held by lower nobility or highly educated middle class individuals.
“…I see.”
Calix nodded slightly at Mildred, then looked away.
He didn’t say anything further.
He’s really letting this go?
Even witnessing it firsthand, Marie found it hard to believe.
So what happened to the rumors that he destroys everything he touches—people or buildings alike?
Whether he noticed her thoughts or not, Calix continued the conversation.
“Most noble ladies have personal maids or handmaids, not secretaries.”
Marie steadied herself.
“Yes. But because of the interior business I mentioned earlier, I needed someone who could serve as my secretary.”
Calix’s red eyes glinted sharply, and a strange smile formed on Marie’s lips.
“But that’s not the only reason I asked to meet with you today, Your Grace.”
