Chapter 64

The appearance of this new man left my mouth dry.

Like a stone suddenly tossed into a still lake, he was disturbing the calm.

Whenever I’d felt someone was suspicious, I’d been right—and this man was definitely causing ripples.

When he asked if he could “cut in,” I said firmly, removing all trace of a smile:

“That would be troublesome.”

His face, however, was still lit up with amusement. Clearly, I had to keep my expression serious.

Don’t give him anything to feed on.

Dealing with a lunatic only left me at a loss. If he was just passing by, wasting more time on him was pointless.

We had more important matters—buying the stationery to send heartfelt letters to Catherine and the children Erica sponsored.

Both those bonds mattered deeply to Erica and me.

At my firm refusal, Erica puffed up her cheeks and stepped forward.

“Hey! Get back in line. I can’t stand people cutting—especially in front of me!”

She was trying to look intimidating, cheeks puffed out, but of course, it didn’t work.

Because he had his own weapon.

Still grinning playfully, the man shrugged.

“Could this be the stationery you were searching for, my lady?”

He suddenly held out the very stationery we’d been looking for.

That smirk of his—it set my teeth on edge.

It feels… familiar somehow.

Had I seen him before?

The half-rimmed glasses he wore made him even harder to read.

Why step in so suddenly?

Maybe he wasn’t just a random passerby after all.

He brushed off his clothes, then offered me a business card.

I accepted it reluctantly.

<Cheric Thread — Reporter.>

Erica went on tiptoes, trying to peek, but I just stared blankly at the card.

“What is it?” Erica tilted her head.

The moment I realized this man was an original story character, I knew I had to be careful.

In the novel, the conflict had begun with Erica’s jealous lie about Catherine and Oscar.

Hearing the man she loved was marrying Catherine—whom she hated—was unbearable.

She had lied to Martin, claiming Oscar had toyed with her feelings.

And what happened after… I knew all too well.

Martin, ever the doting brother, couldn’t stand seeing Erica suffer.

He hadn’t acted on rebellion immediately, but then someone spread a vile article across the country, dragging both Cloud and his sister’s name through the mud.

That reporter’s pen had pushed him off the cliff.

And Martin had finally raised his banner against the crown—swearing rebellion to defend his sister’s honor and Cloud’s name.

So, in other words—

Cheric Thread.

The very man in front of me was the one who had spread that article.

I rubbed at my brow.

Now that I’d met him, escape might not be possible.

“Is this indeed the stationery you were searching for?” Reporter Thread asked again, pressing for an answer.

There was one way.

I pulled Erica gently behind me, stepped forward, and met his gaze head-on.

Maybe I can use him.

If I could bend the reporter to my side, then having favorable articles for Cloud would be no trouble.

“Yes. Let me properly greet you, Reporter Thread.”

“Oh? They said the duchess wasn’t like the rumors. Seems true.”

He stroked his chin, surprised by my warmth.

In the rumors, the Duchess of Cloud was a helpless woman who could do nothing on her own.

But here I was, attending Erica as her guardian and clearly close to her. He had reason to be shocked.

Finally, he gave me a respectful bow. His meaningful smile returned right after.

“So, it is the stationery we’re looking for. You must have a reason for asking me that, reporter.”

Surely, he wasn’t only trying to boast.

Cheric chuckled faintly.

“Since it caught your interest, I’ll let the young lady have it.”

Erica snatched the stationery, though she still eyed him warily, lips sticking out.

“I’d like to make you a proposal. Will you hear it?”

“Go ahead.”

“Haha. I thought you’d say, ‘How dare you make a proposal when we’ve just met.’”

“We’re a business household. Of course, I’ll hear you out.”

He nodded, then his gaze sharpened.

“I like truth. I like to peel away the layers until I see the naked truth itself.”

Reporter Cheric Thread licked his lips at the very word truth.

Chills ran down my spine, but I kept listening.

“Lies are always revealed eventually. It’s only a matter of time.”

At those words, I felt my fingertips tremble.

So that’s why he spread it…

In the original, the reason he published that twisted article—he had known Erica’s words were lies.

‘The prince swore his love to me first.’
‘It wasn’t that ridiculous Catherine—it was me!’

I could almost hear Erica’s desperate cries again. I frowned.

“Ah, I ramble. What I mean is… Aren’t you curious about the truth of Viscountess Harold, Duchess of Cloud?”

Strangely enough, his target wasn’t me.

“I believe you’ll be satisfied, duchess.”

“You wouldn’t make this offer for nothing. What is it you want from me?”

“Haha. I already told you. I love the truth.”

I gripped my skirts tightly.

Dangerous man.

And yet… the mention of Viscountess Harold tempted me.

I already knew about her shady businesses. But was there something else? Something deeper?

Still, I wouldn’t give him the reaction he wanted.

“No.”

“…?”

“I said I’d hear you out. I never said I’d join hands with you.”

As I started to hand back his card, his lips curved into a sly arc.

“Ah, true. But duchess—don’t throw it away. A person’s mind can flip over like a hand. You never know.”

He glanced at Erica, then tapped the card with a grin.

“Until we meet again, Duchess of Cloud.”

Whether to call it boldness or brazenness—

Cheric Thread disappeared smoothly into the crowd.

To offer me such a deal, even knowing I was Harold’s daughter…

What kind of man is he?

If he was only testing me, why say “until next time”?

His intentions weren’t pure, but at least he left the stationery behind.

Erica held it tight in one hand, the other clutching my sleeve.

“He seemed weird.”

Cheric Thread.

A man obsessed with truth.

He would surely try to contact me again—or drop some tempting clue so I would reach out to him first.

He won’t give up easily.

While I wrestled with those thoughts, Erica hugged her bag close with the stationery inside, already chattering brightly as if she’d forgotten the man.

“What should I write in my letter?”

“You know that better than I do, my lady.”

After all, her bond with Aaron had begun with letters too.

When it was time to step out of the carriage, Erica’s eyes shook violently.

She clutched her bag to her chest, stomping her feet nervously.

“What’s wrong, my lady?”

“M-me? Nothing.”

But when she got down, her face was even paler.

Why were her nails hovering at her lips? Why glance nervously at me? Why squeeze her eyes shut?

Maybe she was just rattled by the encounter at the shop and exhausted.

Same here, honestly.

I was about to open the door to go inside when Erica blocked it.

I tilted my head. She avoided my eyes.

“N-not yet.”

“Not yet…?”

“Take a walk with me instead.”

I couldn’t take a pale-faced Erica for a stroll.

“Not today.”

Her face grew even paler.

“T-then, you… you come in later.”

“Why?”

“B-because… reasons!”

Blocking the door without explanation left me stunned.

“Don’t come in until I say so. Understand?”

She slammed the door shut with determination.

Watching her, I felt certain now.

Suspicious. Very suspicious.

Was she planning something behind my back again?

She’d said not to enter until she allowed it, but how could I not, with my nerves buzzing?

I waited a generous twenty seconds, then reached for the knob—

Only for the door to swing open on its own, startling me.

“You may come in now.”

Erica cleared her throat a couple of times—strangely formal—and her face looked lively again, like nothing had happened.

I peeked inside, puzzled, and found myself tiptoeing in, following her.

Has this house always been this quiet?

Why was it so still?

And the servants—gone from their usual places. Odd.

I stepped cautiously.

Erica, on the other hand, made extra noise as if to cover up something.

And then—another suspicious thing.

“M-my lady.”

“Y-you…!”

Martin suddenly appeared—his face smeared all over with white flour.