Chapter 34
Hearing the duke’s refusal, I became a little sulky and peeled the shrimp
—thunk, thunk—dropping the pieces onto the plate as if throwing them.
No matter how much he disliked it, how could he say outright that he didn’t trust me? That hurt.
“Hmph. Better eat up while I’m peeling for you, gluttonous Duke.”
“…Are you mad because I said I couldn’t trust you?”
“Wouldn’t you be upset? Makes me feel like I’m nothing to you, even though you call me ‘my diver’ every day. Guess it was all just words.”
When I looked like I was pouting, Duke Rupellen wore a troubled expression.
“It’s not that I don’t trust my diver. I meant that unless there’s a contract, I can’t bring myself to trust—it’s like a compulsion.”
“Which means you don’t trust me.”
“I have this sort of obsession. If it isn’t signed with a contract quill, I keep doubting.”
“I don’t really want to hear excuses. Just eat your shrimp.”
“Oh dear, it seems my diver is thoroughly upset. Hmm… How could I make it up to you?”
He tapped the shrimp with his fork, thinking, then suddenly brightened as though he’d gotten an idea.
“How about this? I’ll tell you a secret no one else knows.”
“What good does it do me to know Your Grace’s secret?”
“Wouldn’t it help lay the foundation for trust between us?”
He set down his fork, leaned close, and whispered quickly into my ear:
“Actually, I might die if I eat shrimp.”
“…Ehh?”
I jumped to my feet in shock.
“S-spit it out right now! Why would you eat shrimp if it could kill you?”
“Calm down, Jiana.”
“Are you trying to make me into a murderer? Spit it out, hurry!”
As I flailed, the duke chuckled and tried to soothe me.
“To be precise, not shrimp itself—but if I eat the shell, my throat swells up. If my airway gets blocked, yes, I could die.”
“Duke, fried shrimp heads are forbidden from now on!”
I snatched the pan of golden-brown shrimp heads sizzling in butter and hid it behind my back.
“Are you insane? Stop acting like you’ve got extra lives to waste! Do Sword Masters have resurrection skills or something?”
“That’s why I didn’t eat any heads, and I haven’t touched the shells.”
“Even so, you have to be extra, extra careful!”
I pulled the plate in front of me, inspecting each piece for stray shell fragments. Luckily, there weren’t any.
“Whew, thank goodness. I was just about to scold you, you know.”
“Scold me? For what?”
“For sitting there like your fingers were broken, not peeling even one shrimp shell, just waiting for someone else to serve you.”
“…!”
“…That’s what I was going to grumble about.”
“Quite savage, aren’t you. I told you, don’t hold back if you want to say something.”
“I was waiting for the right timing, okay? If I’d really said it, it would’ve been terrible—if you’d grabbed a shrimp with your bare fingers, they’d have swollen up first!”
I sighed in relief and flicked a shrimp into the air. Immediately, Gari—who’d been circling eagerly—darted in and snatched it mid-flight.
Picking up another shrimp, I asked the duke:
“Does anyone else know you can’t eat shrimp?”
“Of course not. Imagine—the duke whose life depends on avoiding shrimp? It’s a deadly secret, the family’s survival is at stake.”
“Wow. And you’re just telling me this? I’m still technically an outsider.”
“Strange, isn’t it. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”
His words had slowed, perhaps from the wine.
“I guess… I wanted to tell you I trust you. Enough to entrust my life—and my family’s future—to you.”
“Me? Why?”
I tilted my head, baffled.
“We’ve only just met. You shouldn’t trust people so easily, Your Grace.”
Honestly, wasn’t he a duke? The ruler of a whole domain, blurting out secrets like this?
The duke felt a tingling at his fingertips and brushed them with his nails.
Strange. Did I accidentally touch a shrimp shell?
The odd sensation crept from his fingers up his arm, then to his heart, until it seemed to fill his whole body.
Jiana, watching his face, suddenly remarked:
“You really shouldn’t trust people so easily. What if I’d been an assassin sent to kill you? You’d be dead from shrimp shells by now.”
In that instant, Rupellen realized the tingling wasn’t in his fingers—it was in his heart.
Jiana’s words were rough, but her concern was genuine. She didn’t want him to expose himself recklessly, to risk his life so carelessly.
The sea breeze carried that sincerity to him. Under its glow, her face—lit by firelight—looked more beautiful than ever.
…Maybe I drank too much.
He tried to suppress the smile tugging at his lips as he looked at her.
“You don’t really think I’m so soft I couldn’t spot a spy, do you?”
He smiled lazily.
“But if you were one, maybe I’d pretend not to notice… and let it happen.”
“Why would you do that? This is serious! You have to put your life first. Have you married yet? Do you have an heir to carry on the dukedom?”
“No. Neither.”
“See? You absolutely cannot die. Especially not over shrimp. Promise me that.”
“I won’t. I have no intention of it.”
“Good grief, this is way too much pressure…”
Her grumbling only made him laugh again.
Why am I telling her my secrets?
Everything she said was true. She was an outsider. And this wasn’t just his personal secret—it was the entire dukedom’s.
Suddenly, a memory of his mother peeling shrimp shells for him surfaced.
“Nox, no one must ever know you could die from shrimp. Understand?”
“No one at all?”
“No one… except the person who will become your life partner. You haven’t met them yet. I can’t tell you who it will be.”
“If you don’t know, how would I?”
Young Rupellen had clung to his mother, whining.
“You’ll know the moment you see them. They’ll shine. You’ll feel like you never want to let them go—for the rest of your life.”
“People can shine?”
“Of course. And you’ll want to stay with them forever.”
“Wow… Does that really happen?”
“It did for me, when I met your father.”
His mother had stroked his hair as she smiled.
“When you meet that person, tell them your secret. They’ll worry for you, and protect it with all their heart.”
Was she… my diver?
The sun had set, the moon rising.
Jiana sat with her back to the moonlight, glowing as if she were bathed in silver radiance.
From the moment we met, I never wanted to be apart from her.
That was why he’d rushed to brandish the contract quill, to bind her to him.
No, no. Think carefully.
He tried to assess himself rationally.
Yes, he’d had a fair bit to drink. Not enough to truly intoxicate him, but enough that the warmth in his chest—and the scent drifting from Jiana—made it impossible to think straight.
…Objectivity was out of the question.
