Chapter 93……………………………………………
Confession (1)
The noisy day came to an end, and night fell.
Just as Anje was getting ready for bed, a bizarre birdlike sound rang out near her ear, followed by Grey knocking on the balcony window.
“You didn’t even call me—what brings you here? And how did you know my room got moved here?”
Anje lowered her voice slightly, frowning.
“The room right next door is His Grace’s now. He’s an extremely light sleeper, so be careful.”
She looked unusually cautious.
“You didn’t need to worry that much. His Grace summoned me.”
“His Grace did? Why? If that’s the case, why not use the door—why are you climbing through windows?”
“You could say it’s a habit.”
“…You’re insane.”
Anje shot Grey a cold look.
Ignoring her glare, Grey carefully examined the door connecting her room to the duke’s. He lightly pushed the locked door and frowned.
“Why’d they suddenly switch rooms?”
“I heard His Grace’s room needs repairs.”
“Repairs?”
“They say he’s been using the room he inherited from the former duke all this time. Since it’s entirely wood-paneled, lighting the fireplace always required extra caution.”
“He used it just fine until now—why suddenly?”
“If they want it finished before winter, they have to start now. It’s hard to find workers in winter, and transporting materials is difficult in the cold…”
Grey cut off Anje’s earnest explanation with a click of his tongue.
“Why are you defending him so hard? Just accept it and move on. What, you feeling guilty about something?”
“About what? Stop talking nonsense and tell me why you’re really here.”
“I came because I missed my darling.”
Grey finished speaking and opened his arms for a hug. Anje tried to push him away with clear annoyance, but the size difference made it useless.
“Ever since you became a noble lady, you smell nice. My darling.”
Looks like he’s eager to die early.
Instead of responding, Anje narrowed her eyes and rummaged through her clothes. There had to be a hidden blade around here somewhere.
“Whoa, easy there. Relax your eyes. I’m joking. And I’m here on official business. I told you—His Grace called me. Since I was already here, I figured I’d stop by.”
“With me here, what would he need you for?”
Grey casually popped a candy from the table into his mouth and shrugged.
“Thanks to this year’s Lady, your face has gotten pretty well known. And this place is a pain to access to begin with. What can I do? Someone like me has to step in.”
Grey briefly considered whether he should tell Anje about the job Hildegard had commissioned—but decided to keep quiet.
He even thought about running away with Anje, but honestly, he wasn’t confident he could fool every information broker, mercenary, and assassin out there. If they were discovered, it wouldn’t just endanger Anje—it would put him and the entire Black Wolf at risk.
For now, as the duke said, staying in the estate was the safest option. But if Anje found out the truth, would she really stay hidden? That was another question entirely.
Ignorance is bliss.
Brushing off Anje’s questions, Grey nodded toward the door leading to the duke’s room.
“So, that latch—is it sturdy?”
“Why? What happens if it isn’t?”
Anje flipped through a book as if it were no big deal. Grey grimaced deeply.
“He’s a man.”
And one with impure intentions toward you.
“A man, my foot. Do you think the Duke of Side would have interest in someone like me? He’s annoying as a boss, sure—but not like that.”
Mid-sentence, Anje frowned as something from earlier in the day came to mind.
“Ugh, now I’m annoyed again because of you.”
“Why? Something happen?”
Grey’s expression hardened as well.
“Maybe it’s the heat? He’s been especially irritable lately. I mean, he’s always been strict about work, but still…”
She tilted her head.
“And yet, for completely ridiculous proposals, he approves them without hesitation.”
What she’d dismissed as a joke turned out to be real—the dowager duchess genuinely planned to build a theater inside the estate.
The duke readily approved converting part of the grand hall—originally planned for expansion before the war—into a theater.
They aimed to complete it before summer ended and the fall social season began, and specially selected workers were already sweating over the project.
Spring banquets were centered around the imperial family, while autumn banquets rotated among noble houses in gratitude for the harvest.
For several years, the House of Side had used the head of the family’s absence as an excuse to avoid hosting events entirely. But now, that excuse was gone.
According to the dowager duchess’s plan, it was time to display the family’s power. Tired of politics, her son had focused solely on business—so she stepped in instead.
While others escaped south to avoid the summer heat, the ducal estate buzzed with construction to prepare for the fall season.
The problem was the excessively strict screening standards for workers, which drove wages up to absurd levels.
Anje argued that relaxing the criteria slightly would reduce costs—but the duke rejected it outright.
“No matter what, we’re letting people into the estate. Thorough background checks have always been standard. Paying for that is only natural—and it’s better than hiring more guards.”
His reaction was sharper than usual.
“Even if supervisors are checked, investigating day laborers who live hand-to-mouth is a bit much—”
“And will you take responsibility if something happens?”
“Pardon?”
The duke looked at her quietly, then scoffed.
“For an information broker to be this careless—I can already imagine how you’ve handled things until now. Perhaps I should reconsider hiring the Black Wolf next time. What if an assassin slips in among the workers? What if they harm my mother or Mariana? Will you take responsibility? And if their target isn’t even my family but another noble house nearby—what then?”
Anje had no choice but to bow her head. She’d grown complacent, buried in paperwork in a quiet estate. If something did happen, what could she possibly offer as compensation?
“So do as you’re told.”
The duke tossed out the harsh words and returned to his documents.
Lately, everything was like this. Whenever she spoke, she was met with tenfold scolding and reprimands—it made opening her mouth exhausting.
“The more I think about it, the more annoyed I get. He doesn’t treat Sir Elliot that way—just me.”
Anje glared at the duke’s bedroom door.
“So… he’s only prickly with you?”
Grey sounded unusually amused. Of course he was. He understood the duke’s feelings all too well—dealing with a woman this oblivious would drive anyone mad.
He suddenly thought of himself years ago.
Since childhood, Grey had paid special attention to Anje, convincing himself it was because she stood out from the other slum kids in looks and behavior.
But he realized it was more than that when they started working as information brokers and spent entire days alone together with nothing to do.
No matter how much he tried not to, his eyes kept drifting toward her.
And the fact that she was completely unaware of it all nearly drove him insane.
Because of that experience, Grey understood the duke better than anyone.
If there was any comfort, it was that his own unrequited feelings had faded over time. After all, Anje had never—not once—given him even the slightest opening. Sometimes he even wondered if she knew and was doing it on purpose.
So it was easy to guess her attitude wouldn’t change in the future either.
“Poor thing.”
“Right? I feel bad for myself too.”
Grey snorted.
“Not you.”
“….”
Grey leisurely avoided Anje’s glare and stood up. If he lingered any longer, the duke’s irritation might turn toward him next—and he wanted no part of that.
Just as he seemed about to vault out the window, Grey suddenly stopped and turned back.
“I wasn’t going to say this, but…”
Anje looked up. Hesitation flickered across Grey’s face.
“I don’t have to worry about this—but I feel a little bad.”
Who’s he talking about?
Not her… so the duke?
Anje scoffed. The nerve—an information broker who prowled the night streets feeling sorry for the Duke of Side?
“Do you remember when we got our second office, Boss.
