~Chapter 97~
Standing next to Glenn was the man she wanted to meet today—Damian.
“Welcome, Sir Damian. I told you I would come to see you, so thank you for visiting me instead. I didn’t expect you to make time so quickly.”
At Riden’s greeting, Damian bowed politely.
“If the young lady calls for me, I must come at once.”
Riden studied him closely. She had seen him a few times before, but never in such detail.
His skin was pale, his hair an ashen gray, giving him an overall muted tone, yet his violet eyes shone sharply, creating a mysterious tension.
‘I’ve always felt it when we met—he’s hard to read and doesn’t seem easy to handle.’
She had called him here because, among those she could mobilize, he seemed the most likely to win Mari’s favor.
“Would you like to sit here?”
She gestured politely toward the seat opposite her.
Then Damian spoke loudly.
“Allow me to introduce myself again. Damian Florence of the House of Viscount Florence. I belong to the Eastern Empire’s main diocese and serve as secretary of the Holy Knights, assisting His Grace the Duke.”
“……”
“It’s an honor that you sought me out!”
His eager, new-recruit-like attitude caught her off guard, and she bent slightly in reply.
“No, I should have gone to the headquarters, so I’m more grateful that you—”
Damian bent even lower.
“No, no. I should be the one to come. Thank you for inviting me to the count’s estate.”
They ended up bowing almost competitively, and Riden forgot to size him up, letting out a laugh.
Her tension eased slightly. She smiled.
“I think we’ve greeted each other enough. Shall we sit?”
Meeting her gaze lightly, Damian took his seat.
Before she could speak, he began,
“I was a little surprised you were looking for me. It doesn’t seem like a trivial matter, so I’m curious what it is.”
Riden had gathered opinions about him from Ethan and Merrick.
According to Ethan, Damian was well-regarded in the church and the knights—diligent, capable, and sociable.
Merrick, however, said something slightly different: that Damian was very favorable toward the ducal family.
“Actually, I wanted to ask for your help. Lady Hern has recently taken great interest in the church and the gods, but with my shallow knowledge, I can’t satisfy her curiosity. I’d like you to personally tutor her in faith studies.”
Riden wanted Mari to naturally start visiting the temple, and Damian Florence was the perfect person for that—
—someone who could often accompany her to the temple,
—someone with looks Mari would be instantly drawn to,
—and someone shrewd, favorable toward the duke’s family, unlikely to ruin things over romance.
If he refused, she had other ways, but her strongest card—Mari having married a knight—she wanted to save for last.
Riden bit her lip, waiting for his answer.
Damian smiled.
“It sounds like it would be a great pleasure.”
He agreed. Riden let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“I’m glad you’ll take it on. I was worried you’d be too busy.”
“I have plenty of time.”
When she looked at him, he answered cheerfully,
“I spend a lot of time alone. Helping Lady Hern with her studies would be good for me too.”
“I thought you’d be busy during the day with work and spend evenings with family.”
“No. I just keep moving so I look busy and people won’t give me more work. In reality, I’m free, and I prefer to be alone in the evenings.”
“……”
“So, if things like this come up, please call me often.”
Just then, a maid set down tea and crisp scones on a silver tray.
Riden smiled awkwardly.
“It’s odd to have tea served after we’ve finished talking. I’d better check later that the kitchen hasn’t been struck by lightning.”
When she fumbled to explain, Damian responded easily,
“Then I should leave slowly. I wouldn’t want to miss such a sight.”
His easy humor smoothed over the potential awkwardness.
Grateful for his easygoing manner and for agreeing to her request, Riden moved the teacup and sugar cubes closer to him.
“I hope it suits your taste.”
“I’m sure it will.”
She sipped her tea and glanced at him.
Damian’s gentle smile never left, yet he was still hard to read.
In the original story, the Viscountess Florence was Riden’s right hand—willing to do anything for money.
‘I wonder if her son Damian is the same.’
That would make things easier. But she couldn’t read his expression at all.
Then—his smile cracked slightly.
“Is the tea bitter?”
What was with the kitchen staff today?
She quickly poured fresh tea into another cup.
“Taste is fine…”
Damian admitted sheepishly,
“I can’t handle bitter things well.”
“Then why not add sugar from the start?”
Dropping sugar cubes into his cup, he replied,
“I thought adding too much sugar right away wouldn’t look very trustworthy.”
He scratched the back of his neck, knowing how unconvincing that sounded.
‘So he dislikes bitterness.’
Now he seemed more human.
Riden’s stiff lips relaxed.
“Sorry, I ended up laughing.”
“……”
“But really, lots of people dislike bitter things, don’t they? More than you’d think.”
For example…
Her face suddenly froze.
An unwelcome memory surfaced—her ex-husband, a café owner who refused to drink espresso no matter what.
Damian watched her small laugh fade, thinking,
‘Cute.’
She quickly erased her smile, but seeing her laugh like that after being so guarded made her seem endearing.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes. I just had an unpleasant thought but brushed it off. Glenn?”
At that moment, the count’s butler entered.
“Pardon me, young lady, I…”
Damian smiled politely at them and sipped his tea, observing Riden.
He seemed just as comfortable with the butler as with the duke’s two young masters.
‘He doesn’t let people in easily, but once he does, he trusts them completely.’
It was a type Damian knew well—Da-in had been like that.
“If the count’s daughter is the female lead, then you should have her. If you want to be the lead, be ambitious!”
For a moment, Ms. Kim’s voice urging him surfaced in his mind, but he shook it off.
He wasn’t the type to cause trouble—his older brother usually handled that.
Still, if Riden, the female lead, asked him for something, he planned to grant it if possible.
Footsteps approached from outside the reception room.
“Riden.”
‘Lady Hern.’
A glance at Riden’s face told him she hadn’t called for her.
He kept drinking his tea, ears open.
“Staying only at the duke’s house lately makes you so hard to see.”
“Mari, you’re early. Didn’t you say you had a date today? Weren’t you coming from that?”
“I was, but I wanted to come back. I must have sensed you were here.”
Mari’s voice grew softer.
“When you’re not at the count’s estate, it’s so boring.”
“……”
“So how about I stay at the duke’s with you? I want to help prepare for the wedding.”
“Ah…”
“Well? What do you think?”
After a pause, Riden answered—her tone far more firm than when speaking to Damian.
“Mari, you sometimes talk about impossible things like they’re nothing.”
Before Mari could question it, Riden continued with a small laugh.
“Anyway, if you’re bored here, I guess you’ll be finding a new place soon?”
“What?”
“The count and his wife promised only until your debutante. But I’m not worried—rumor has it your popularity at every ball is incredible.”
Silence fell. Damian felt her gaze.
“Let me introduce you. You might have already met at the debutante ball…”
Damian set down his cup, stood, and turned.
It was the young lady Riden had asked him to tutor in faith—staring straight at him.
“Damian Florence of the House of Viscount Florence.”
