Chapter 46
Leaning against the sofa with one hand propping his chin, the man stared at Elzenon with bored eyes.
Looking directly into those dark pupils made Elzenon feel an inexplicable tightness in his chest, and he hastily lowered his gaze.
“Your tongue is far too long to speak in Dalia’s favor.”
“…Are you mocking the father of the young lady, the lord of Bourbon?”
“Let it be love or status—one of the two. Either way, there’s a weakness.”
Elzenon tried to calm himself and, contrary to his scheming nature, put on a genuinely wronged expression and tone as he pressed Khalid.
But Khalid remained unmoved.
Elzenon was taken aback. When he was with Dalia, Khalid seemed full of countless gaps, but now, with just the two of them, it was as if not even a man’s needle could slip through.
Soon, Khalid let out a faint sigh and spoke.
“I’m letting you slide entirely because of Dalia.”
“So it’s love, then.”
If he hadn’t been at least equal to the Marquis of Bourbon, he might have been intimidated by the use of the lord’s name. Clearly, the black-haired man before him was indeed a noble.
“In that case, I can handle it like this…”
“If you truly are a noble, then please stop teasing the young lady with a marriage you have no intention of.”
Elzenon forced a look of innocence and sorrow. Anyone seeing him might have been fooled into believing his sincerity.
“She has endured so much. A person as noble as you surely has many other flowers to bend before you. Dalia… she would never side with someone like me, abandoning her family sincerely…”
“I will abandon it.”
“Excuse me?”
“My estate. I’ll abandon it.”
“What? He’s not a noble?”
Elzenon, momentarily forgetting to act, frowned at Khalid. Khalid simply spat out,
“And the estate’s name is Astair.”
“…”
It was a name only usable by a member of the royal family.
“That’s… impossible.”
Uttering it casually would have been blasphemy punishable by arrest.
“…But…”
It was also the only way to explain the existence of the black-haired man before him.
A vast and lavish mansion, previously unknown and overwhelming even to behold.
A man whose very demeanor suggested he was born a predator.
And calculating the likelihood of such a towering figure risking blasphemy just to impersonate royalty for a mere messenger like himself…
Above all, the fact that he abandoned a perfectly good estate for Dalia now made sense. Royal men, unless they were heirs to the throne, would otherwise acquire other estates.
“But there’s only one legitimate royal line. Surely all others have perished in political strife…”
Still, there was no law saying an unknown royal bloodline could not exist.
Elzenon’s hand trembling over his teacup caused tiny waves in the liquid.
“Stop if you understand.”
The man’s words hit Elzenon as though his innermost thoughts had been read. He swallowed nervously and tried to play it cool.
“Stop… what, exactly?”
“Anything. Stop it.”
“…”
“If you want to live.”
Though whispered, the threat was clear enough.
Frozen, Elzenon could not even respond as the man rose and left. Only much later did he flee the mansion in a rush.
“He must be getting scolded badly by now, huh? Feels satisfying.”
Roy, who had left the room earlier, followed Dalia with light, quick steps.
“It would be fun to watch Khalid scold that strange man, but…”
Instead, he chose to follow Dalia.
He had recently resolved that Khalid would handle rude humans himself, and his own priority was to protect Dalia.
“That guy learned his lesson from Khalid. I didn’t even need to step in.”
A cheerful whistle escaped his lips.
Roy had learned the curious skill of producing musical notes without an instrument from Dalia. They had been in the garden one day, watching the birds chirp, and Roy had whined in envy. Dalia had then taught him.
Spotting Dalia’s figure ahead, Roy’s pupils narrowed in a gleeful grin.
“Miss Dalia, let’s go together!”
Dalia stopped and looked back.
“But I’m curious about something.”
Dalia, walking expressionlessly, barely turned her attention to Roy.
“Hmm? What are you curious about?”
“Why does that man call you ‘Miss’?”
“Because I’m his master’s daughter.”
“Eh? Then since you’re not Khalid’s daughter, I can’t call you that.”
Roy occasionally asked such peculiar questions about human culture. Though he read books and knew much, he had little experience living among people, leaving gaps in his practical cultural knowledge.
Dalia always explained patiently.
“Calling someone ‘Miss’ isn’t only for the master’s daughter. It’s also a polite way to address women my age. So, back where I lived, everyone called me that.”
“So ‘Miss’ is higher than adding ‘-nim’?”
“Well… it’s not really higher, more like equivalent.”
Satisfied with the brief explanation, Roy fidgeted and asked,
“Then can I call you ‘Miss’ too?”
“You? Roy?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Just because.”
It was hard for him to explain, but Roy simply wanted to. He seemed envious of how Elzenon addressed Dalia with familiarity.
“Hmm…”
Dalia imagined Roy calling her “Miss Dalia” for a moment. Though she had heard the term often in Bourbon, it felt ticklish hearing Roy say it, and she almost declined.
“Not allowed?”
Seeing Roy’s expectant face waiting for her reply, she felt… why not?
“Sure. You may call me that.”
As soon as Dalia spoke, she noticed Roy’s previously sulky face visibly brighten, realizing it was right to allow the address.
“Hmph, hmph! Miss… Miss Dalia!”
“Haha, cute.”
Roy repeated it as practice, and Dalia laughed, running her fingers through his hair.
His hair was finer and softer than a normal human’s.
“You always treat me like a child…”
Grumbling, Roy tilted his head to make it easier for her hand to reach.
Not long after Elzenon left, Dalia received another visitor.
“This time it’s someone from the clothing shop you like… Should I tell her to come back tomorrow?”
“No. Let her stay.”
Dalia didn’t want to send her away, knowing how guilty Sylvia, Hanson’s wife, would feel over Dalia’s kidnapping incident.
“If I sent her away, she’d blame herself even more.”
“Miss Dalia…”
Soon, Sylvia appeared hesitantly, confirming Dalia’s suspicion.
“Sylvia, why does your face look worse even though you were told to rest?”
“Well…”
Sylvia, shadowed around the eyes, hung her head in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry. I know you cared, Miss Dalia, but if I stayed idle, my mind would only get worse…”
She admitted to working overnight to help Mielre attach decorations to dresses.
Dalia sighed lightly and took Sylvia’s hand. Startled, Sylvia did not withdraw it.
“This isn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself so much.”
“But… Miss, it all feels like my fault.”
“You’re a victim too. Why think that way?”
“But I can’t face you, Miss. I have responsibility too…”
“Your husband’s crimes aren’t yours. Not just I, but everyone else would think the same.”
Dalia spoke firmly, but it seemed to only provoke Sylvia further. She shook her head.
Tears welled in her eyes, ready to fall.
“No, Miss…”
“What do you mean, ‘no’?”
Sylvia trembled as though Dalia had scolded her, answering,
“I… I was too familiar with Mielre, which provoked Hanson’s jealousy…”
Sylvia’s face was full of self-reproach, no matter what she had heard.
“What are you saying? How should a servant act then?”
“And, and also…”
Sitting uneasily at the edge of a comfortable chair, she wriggled and murmured anxiously.
“Take your time. I’m listening.”
Dalia’s gentle tone calmed her. Sylvia, who had stopped speaking, now fell silent, her voice caught in her throat.
After a while, soft sobs escaped, and Dalia offered her warm tea instead of pressing further.
“Thank you…”
Sipping the tea, Sylvia calmed a little and continued, choking back tears.
“People whispered behind my back. They said that since I earn money outside, my husband, feeling inferior, acted impulsively. Perhaps I should have let him take charge…”
Sylvia muttered that if she had, this horrific incident might not have happened, lowering her head.
“Hearing those words constantly, even when alone, the thoughts don’t leave my mind. I’m sorry, Miss Dalia. Truly, I have no excuse…”
“….”
Though doing her work out of obligation and responsibility, Sylvia seemed completely demotivated and despondent.
Seeing her so consumed with self-blame and regret reminded Dalia of her own past.
