Chapter 13
I sat at my desk and pulled out the thick bundle of documents I had received from the Guild Master of Liberica.
It was information on Jeffrey’s mistresses.
Hmm…
According to the documents, Jeffrey was currently seeing a total of five young ladies. Depending on how you looked at it, it wasn’t a lot, but it wasn’t a small number either.
And all of them come from fallen or minor noble families…
The only exception was the Crowell viscountcy, an old family, but even they had recently suffered repeated business failures and had fallen deep into debt.
That meant they were in urgent need of money.
Hmph… what should I do…
I tapped my quill against the desk, deep in thought, then opened a drawer and took out Ariadne’s jewel box.
It was overflowing with gems of every kind.
Rubies, pearls, sapphires, opals, diamonds, emeralds, aquamarines, and more.
And in her dressing room, there were dozens more jewel boxes just like it.
I calmly examined the glittering gems, then picked out the one that shone the brightest.
…Yes. This one is the best.
Good. The jewel was chosen.
I wrote a few short lines on a pure white sheet of stationery, then blew out the candle.
The next morning, five beautifully wrapped gift boxes were delivered to five separate estates—those of the young ladies currently involved with Jeffrey.
3. The Circumstances of a Certain Viscount’s Daughter
From childhood, Isabella Crowell had only one dream.
To marry a man she truly loved, and build a warm, happy family with him.
“…That’s your dream? If not a duchess, at least aim to become a countess,” her parents scoffed.
They, like everyone else around her, dismissed such a modest dream as unworthy of being a life goal. They urged her to pursue something grander, more dazzling.
And Isabella herself knew it too.
Her dream wasn’t impressive. It was something small, trivial—something that could be achieved easily, or so she thought.
So why was it so impossibly out of reach?
Her expression froze as she opened the gift box.
Inside lay a rare yellow diamond—so precious it was said to be nearly impossible to assign a value to it.
“…”
The golden gem sparkled brilliantly, dazzling her eyes.
Wh-what is this…
It was like cold water had been poured over her head.
There was no way Jeffrey, who hardly paid her any attention, had prepared such a gift for her.
Which meant the sender could only be someone from a house wealthy enough to afford such a thing…
“…Lady Veloa.”
Of course. The Veloa ducal heiress.
Inside the box lay a small card bearing the Veloa family crest.
Please, don’t feel burdened. Accept it.
– Ariadne Veloa
So it was you.
It was always you.
Isabella sank weakly to the floor.
She had known it wasn’t from Jeffrey, but seeing it with her own eyes made the humiliation unbearable.
And from none other than the Veloa heiress…
She must mean for me to leave Young Lord Douglas.
Isabella had always known this would come to an end someday.
But for it to end so abruptly, so hollowly…
She let out a heavy sigh.
Her chest ached with emptiness she couldn’t endure.
She had first met him one blazing summer day.
Behind the ballroom of a count’s grand soirée, Isabella had run into Jeffrey Douglas.
“Hey, you need money, don’t you?”
“…What?”
Jeffrey Douglas was handsome, but unbearably rude.
Those were the first words he had ever spoken to her.
It was no secret that the Crowells were drowning in debt. Her parents had long wanted her to marry into a wealthy family.
But no one had ever said it to her face before.
Isabella flushed with both embarrassment and indignation.
“I don’t know what you mean. If it’s business you wish to discuss, speak to my father.”
The words slipped out sharply before she could stop herself.
“…Oh? Was that wrong of me?”
She regretted it instantly.
Jeffrey was no ordinary noble. He was the heir to the Douglas dukedom—a world apart from her.
But Jeffrey, unfazed, continued.
“No. I came to make you an offer.”
“…An offer?”
“Yes. To be my lover whenever I call for you.”
…
Jeffrey’s reputation in society was infamous.
Though engaged to a beautiful and well-born fiancée, he was rumored to consort with numerous women.
Perhaps because of that, his proposal sounded even more outrageous.
To be his lover only when he wanted? What kind of selfish, arrogant demand was that?
Isabella frowned without realizing it.
Jeffrey merely smirked and held out an envelope.
“Here. This is the payment. If you accept, I’ll give you this amount every month.”
“….”
“And if you play your role well, I may even increase it.”
It was far too much money to refuse.
Almost against her will, Isabella accepted the envelope.
She never dreamed she had just stepped into her own personal hell.
Contrary to his scandalous reputation, Jeffrey had little interest in his lovers.
No—more than that, he seemed to dislike women altogether.
He didn’t even allow his so-called lovers to touch him.
“Where do those rumors come from? If you ask me, he even avoids holding hands.”
Emily whispered to Isabella one day.
Emily was also one of Jeffrey’s contracted lovers.
All of them had signed strict confidentiality agreements. If they broke them, they would face massive penalties.
And so they were allowed to socialize only with one another, lest they accidentally reveal something.
Still, the pay was high enough that none of them truly complained.
“What do you think, Isabella? Do you believe the rumors about him are true?”
Isabella shook her head firmly.
“Jeffrey Douglas, promiscuous? Nonsense.”
She had never once seen him show affection to anyone.
Emily grinned mischievously.
She boasted she would seduce him herself.
She tried linking arms with Jeffrey once—and was promptly cast aside.
After that day, Emily never saw him again.
It was clear Jeffrey had lines no one was permitted to cross.
No contacting him first. No physical intimacy. No asking for affection, or any sort of special bond.
“…Then why does he even need lovers at all?”
Isabella couldn’t understand.
Why spend such sums to keep fake girlfriends, when he clearly wanted nothing from them?
And what about his beautiful, wealthy fiancée?
Why did she tolerate his nonsense? Didn’t she know her fiancé was wasting money this way?
Well, it didn’t matter. For Isabella, it worked out.
Thanks to Jeffrey, she hadn’t been forced into marriage with some lecherous old nobleman.
Since coming of age, her parents had constantly pressured her to wed, but Jeffrey’s arrangement had bought her time.
And soon, Isabella discovered the real reason behind his strange behavior.
“…So this is it.”
Isabella gazed up in awe at a grand mansion, said to belong to a marquis.
A ball was being held there, and Isabella felt a little thrill as she walked in with the invitation Jeffrey had given her.
Being Jeffrey’s lover came with privileges.
“Ah, wonderful…”
That night, she drank glass after glass of expensive champagne, then slipped out onto the balcony for fresh air.
It was nice, being able to drink freely without worrying about the cost.
The cool night breeze brushed her cheeks as she admired the city lights.
What would it be like to live in a place like this?
This wasn’t even their main estate—just a townhouse. She almost wanted to cry from envy.
Our house isn’t even a quarter of this size. Couldn’t they spare just a little?
She was lost in such idle thoughts when the curtain behind her rustled open.
Jeffrey Douglas walked in, dressed more elegantly than usual.
“…L-Lord Douglas?”
“Isabella.”
His voice was unexpectedly sweet, and he even took her hand, drawing her closer.
She gasped in shock, about to cry out—
But Jeffrey lifted a finger to his lips, signaling for silence.
Then he whispered low.
“Lady Crowell, remember your role as my lover.”
“…M-my role?”
“Yes. That’s why I hired you, isn’t it?”
…
He wasn’t wrong.
So Isabella forced a smile, lifting the corners of her lips as she looked at him.
And then—she forgot what she had meant to say.
Bathed in moonlight, Jeffrey’s face was even more striking than usual.
