Chapter 08
Late in the afternoon, Lian was reviewing a backlog of documents in his study.
In three days, the full-scale war would begin. He intended to finish this work today. He had ordered that no one disturb him. Perhaps because of the command, the mansion felt unusually heavy with a tense atmosphere. Yet, for Lian, this quiet felt almost like a kind of rest.
Since his father had passed, he had spent more than ten years on battlefields. The boy who once held a sword merely for fun had grown into a man. Even after his sword had been soaked with red blood, Lian could rarely stay at home. At times, this quiet study was more dangerous than the front lines.
Most of the household matters were handled by the elderly steward and Erga. Had he not been injured in a recent war with a minor kingdom, he would likely have been dragged into another battlefield somewhere.
Lian stared absentmindedly at the papers he had signed. After spending half a day on them, less than half remained.
Perhaps from sitting in the same position for so long, fatigue suddenly washed over him. Having always relied more on his body than words, sitting still for extended periods was harder than he expected.
Rising from his chair, Lian slowly walked to the window. Bright sunlight streamed into the garden, carrying warm breezes. Petals fell gently, stirred by the soft wind.
“Has it really been five years?”
He could barely remember the last time he had leisurely welcomed spring at the mansion. The crisp breeze brushed softly over his head, and he pushed his disheveled bangs back with one hand. The rustle of leaves sounded in his ears.
How long could he truly enjoy this serene peace?
“The Princess of Targa is sixteen this year. Old enough to marry. She’s beautiful and wise, so she would suit you well.”
These were the first words the Emperor had spoken to him when he visited the palace after returning from the battlefield.
Targa had been sending envoys to the Gotri Empire for some time. No one said much, but everyone knew.
The Emperor wanted a truce; Targa wanted a guarantee that the Empire would not intervene. For a kingdom obsessed with conquest, what better bargaining chip than marriage?
Even the Emperor, who had always disliked Lian, had no reason to refuse. With no heir of his own, he never intended to leave the throne to his nephew.
“Now there’s at least one heir.”
Cedric’s recent behavior had been unusual. His constant presence at the Empress’s palace was no secret among the nobles.
Perhaps that was why, the last time Lian happened upon Cedric in the plaza, his expression hadn’t seemed hostile.
At first, Lian thought he was just being cautious. But at the end of Cedric’s gaze, there was Iliana.
If the royal family hadn’t pressured him or planted spies in Cedric’s household, he probably wouldn’t have known who had initiated the broken engagement—or why.
Yet something felt off to Lian. Iliana hardly ever left the house, so how could she know?
Curiosity had started it. But then…
Drip.
A raindrop fell on Lian’s forearm. At first, light drops scattered gently, but soon the rain pounded against the window, spilling in.
“The rain’s getting heavy. Seems about right for this time.”
Just as he was about to close the window, a knock sounded, and the white-haired steward entered, carrying hot tea. Without a word, he placed the tea on the desk and neatly cleared the papers to one side.
“Hasn’t she arrived yet?”
“No. Shall I go look? The rain seems severe.”
“Leave it be. She’ll come when she’s supposed to.”
“She left this morning with a seriously angry look on her face.”
The steward spoke with concern. He had been with Lian since birth, so he understood that his master’s mind was quite troubled.
‘Maybe I should have gone myself.’
The previous day’s severe illness had prevented him from doing so. Erga had carried out Lian’s orders instead. The steward knew that extra words would only tire him more.
Being a wise servant, he tried to understand Erga’s rough words. But as someone who had belonged to this household to his core, it was difficult. He anticipated a commotion and wanted to warn Lian first.
“Don’t worry. He’ll speak his mind no matter what.”
“You can’t keep excusing him every time.”
“I don’t really excuse him.”
“Do you not remember the tea party the other day? The young ladies invited didn’t come, so naturally she was angry. They tried to attach daughters of provincial nobles after just a few words—ridiculous, isn’t it?”
Savoring the steaming tea, Lian listened to the steward. The royal family’s pressure regarding marriage was stronger than expected. Ultimately, Lian had held a tea party to meet the young ladies he might become engaged to.
All were prominent noble daughters from the capital. Though invited, none attended.
“If even one had come, this wouldn’t be so troublesome.”
He muttered to himself, leaning back in his chair. The steward continued:
“I’ll make sure to warn her. Tell her it’s entirely my idea. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t think that will work.”
“Excuse me?”
The steward, confused, followed Lian’s gaze. Erga was entering the room, soaked from the rain.
His eyebrows were raised, and his face showed unmistakable anger. The steward clicked his tongue inwardly. Age had made him painfully aware of his own sluggishness. Had he moved faster, he wouldn’t have seen this.
Still, entering the study like that was unacceptable. The steward shook his head, signaling the household staff behind him. One perceptive servant quickly brought a large towel. The steward handed it over, though he threw it somewhat carelessly over Erga’s head rather than neatly placing it in his hands.
“What are you doing…? Hah, never mind. Step out for now.”
“Am I not allowed to hear?”
“This is a public matter, not a personal one.”
“I’m not here for personal business either.”
“I’ve never interfered in your affairs. Step aside.”
Like a drowned rat, Erga wrapped himself in the towel, while the steward’s eyes burned with anger. Neither would yield.
Already, Lian felt exhausted. He drank the remaining tea in one gulp and handed the empty cup to the steward.
“Prepare a simple dinner.”
“Yes, understood.”
Understanding he was being dismissed, the steward complied, though he shot Erga a warning glare not to speak nonsense.
Finally, only Lian and Erga remained. Lian leaned back in his chair and spoke slowly:
“Report.”
“Are you serious?”
“That’s not a report.”
“Yes. Then let’s start with that. The money is paid, the salon owner knows the size, and it will be sent tomorrow.”
“Good. Now rest.”
All necessary discussions were done. Lian straightened up and picked up his pen. He took out one of the documents the steward had arranged. Yet the top of his head kept tingling, as if someone were staring at him with all their might.
“Oh, and clean the floor before you leave. The steward’s waiting.”
“Is it really important if the floor gets wet?”
“I absolutely despise water on my shoes.”
Lian pulled his feet inward as if the water were advancing toward him. Erga wiped the drops on his shoulders carelessly.
“I paid one hundred gold coins.”
“Good. Understood.”
“One hundred gold coins for a single piece of cloth.”
It was clear sending Erga away wouldn’t be easy. Lian paused, pen hovering over the paper, finally meeting Erga’s eyes.
“It’s not just a piece of cloth. It’s my lifeline.”
“What nonsense is that?”
“If it makes the young lady reconsider, it’s worth every coin.”
“Then I’ll hold another tea party. Recently, provincial nobles have been flocking to the capital after hearing about the banquets.”
“Does the royal family’s plan mean you’re ignoring me?”
“We’re not marrying. We’re just avoiding the rain.”
“That’s the same thing. They’ll know no one benefits from being tied to me, so no one will come.”
“So the girl you picked as a fiancée—of all people, the daughter of Count Critia?”
Erga’s dissatisfaction was obvious. Raising his voice, he continued:
“She hasn’t been formally engaged yet. I’d like it done quickly.”
Lian thought to himself, If only I weren’t my master, I’d punch his head in right now.
“I oppose it. There’s no gain, and no guarantee she will consent. Better to skip this banquet.”
“Viscount Piage will attend.”
“What does that matter? He knows the Empress’s persistence already.”
“Exactly why I must go. I’m far too young to die yet.”
“Who said anyone’s going to kill you…”
Erga swallowed his words. He knew too well the meaning behind Lian’s statement.
Erga, famed for his intelligence and information skills, reached the same conclusion as Lian. He didn’t want Lian involved with a greedy, calculating Count Critia. The fiancée label made the woman even more unsuitable. Clenching his fists, he accepted he couldn’t intervene.
“By the way, I added another item from the girls’ favorite list.”
Erga’s anxious eyes darted left and right.
“What did you prepare now?”
“A large bouquet of roses.”
“Where to? Surely not to the Critia estate?”
Lian nodded lightly. Erga lowered his head, scratching his forehead.
“I already reported this. Of all people…”
Had he sent a gift she disliked?
Thus, the two were kept at a distance. Relieved yet uneasy, Lian washed his face quickly. He prayed she wouldn’t be too angry.
The next morning, the room was filled with the strong scent of roses, nearly giving Iliana a headache.
A large carriage arrived at the mansion, overflowing with roses. At first, she thought it was a mistake—until she realized the sender was Lian Gotri.
Bessie, together with the head maid, busied herself arranging the flowers. The floor was covered in fallen petals, leaving barely any room to walk. Iliana picked a rose from the vase on the table.
“Miss, it’s bleeding. Give it here quickly!”
Bessie ran over in alarm, but Iliana ignored her, gripping the rose tightly.
“I hate red roses the most.”
The crushed flower fell pitifully to the floor.
