Chapter 78
Ian didn’t trust Duke Levantus.
But when someone brought up his parents’ names in connection to something he already found suspicious, he couldn’t just ignore it.
“Come to the duke’s estate by 2 p.m. tomorrow. I strongly suggest you show up. Like I said earlier, this has to do with your parents’ deaths.”
“……”
“Well then, I’ll take my leave. See you tomorrow.”
In the end, it was Duke Levantus who left first. Ian remained standing in the corridor long after the duke had disappeared.
A breeze blew through, ruffling his hair.
Ian clenched his fists and then released them, staring toward the end of the hallway where the duke had vanished, as though steeling his resolve. Then he turned and walked away.
‘At the time, the captain was practically forced out. He dedicated his entire life to investigating cases… But he lost everything in a single day just because he stood up to Count Parden.’
The bitter voice of a man echoed in Ian’s ears.
Ian crumpled a report into his pocket and stepped out of the carriage.
It had been sunny when he departed, but now, shockingly heavy rain was pouring down.
The horses grew anxious at the distant sound of thunder, and the coachman climbed down to soothe them.
Under the umbrella held by a waiting servant, Ian stared at the restless hooves of the horses.
Neigh—
The rain was so heavy that even the person next to him was hard to hear.
The uneasy whinnying of the horses reminded him unavoidably of his parents’ accident.
‘…No, can I even call it an accident?’
After a long moment, Ian began to walk.
The servant keeping the umbrella over him had to rush to match Ian’s brisk pace.
But the downpour was too much for any umbrella to handle, and by the time he reached the stairs, Ian looked as if he had been pulled from a river.
“Master, you’re completely soaked. Please, you must change clothes right away.”
At the entrance, James offered a soft cloth and looked at Ian with concern.
Ian ignored both the cloth and James, walking straight toward his second-floor office.
Dripping water darkened the carpet beneath his feet.
Sensing something off, James motioned silently to another servant before hurrying after Ian.
“James… You’ve worked for the marquess’ household your entire life, haven’t you?”
Ian stood by the window in his soaked clothes and asked James the question as the latter entered.
James, who had just tried again to offer the cloth, sensed something unsettling in his master’s voice and answered cautiously.
“Yes. I’ve worked here since I was sixteen.”
“How close were my father and… Count Parden?”
Ian cut him off, asking suddenly about the relationship between the late Marquis Lloyd, Cliff, and Count Graham Parden.
Though puzzled by the question, James answered obediently.
“They were inseparable. They became friends at the academy and were practically glued together ever since.”
Ian silently looked out the window at the pouring rain.
Water dripped from his back, deepening the shadow cast by his dark figure.
“Master… please, you need to dry off. You’ll catch a cold.”
James finally gathered the courage to speak.
But as he looked into Ian’s eyes, his heart dropped.
‘What… is this…?’
Ian’s eyes were void—dark as if all life had been extinguished.
Even darker than when he first received the news of the marquess couple’s deaths.
The murderous aura he exuded made the air feel frozen.
James forgot to breathe.
“…Thank you.”
Ian didn’t care about James’ reaction.
He wiped his face briefly with the cloth, then turned and approached his desk.
Neatly arranged letters sat in a stack.
Spotting the top one, Ian froze.
He didn’t need to open it to know who had sent it.
The texture of the paper was too familiar.
After a brief hesitation, Ian tore it open.
The sharp rip of the envelope echoed harshly in his ears.
Inside, in a familiar, affectionate tone, Aisha asked if he could accompany her to the upcoming banquet.
“Then may peace dwell with you again today.”
As always, the letter ended with the same closing.
Ian’s expression briefly softened. But only for a moment.
His face soon hardened more grimly than before as he gripped his pen tightly.
“Deliver this to the Parden household. And draw a bath.”
He scribbled a curt rejection on the letter, folded it without care, and handed it to James.
James blinked in surprise. Ian had never replied to Aisha’s letters so half-heartedly.
But that was all. A loyal servant his entire life, James didn’t question further and bowed deeply.
“Yes, I’ll have it delivered right away.”
“Wait.”
James had just turned to leave when Ian, still at his desk, suddenly called out.
“Bring me every document from the past fifteen years stored in the estate.”
“Pardon? All fifteen years?”
Fifteen years—a long time.
So long that James’ once brown hair had turned gray.
Surely the documents from that span would fill the office entirely.
“If there are specific files you need, I can select them.”
James offered, thinking of the mountain of papers in the archive.
But Ian shook his head and gave a firm order.
“No. Everything. If it has even a single word on it, I want it brought here.”
“Oh, look over there.”
“That’s Lady Aisha.”
“Ah, the famous one…”
A group of nobles fluttered their fans while whispering, all eyes on Aisha.
The open sneers and pity-filled gazes made Aisha shrink involuntarily.
In the current social circles, Aisha was the target of ridicule and sympathy.
The repeatedly postponed engagement between the Lloyds and the Pardens, Ian’s indifference toward her—despite her constant devotion—was fodder for gossip.
After a year of this, people had grown used to mocking them for amusement.
“Let’s go over there.”
Edward, watching his sister quietly, spoke in a stiff voice.
Aisha obediently followed her eldest brother, though she glanced back as she walked.
‘…Ian.’
She spotted Ian in the distance, standing with Sophia.
Sophia waved her fan with a bright smile, while Ian’s face remained unreadable.
Still, people clustered around him—an indication of his status.
In just a year and a half since entering politics, Ian had secured a position in the central aristocratic council.
Though people had varying opinions, no one denied his impressive achievements at such a young age.
‘Congratulations! That’s amazing!’
‘At his age? Central council? The future of House Lloyd looks bright indeed.’
Those friendly with Ian congratulated him.
But not the Parden family, who knew him best.
Ever since Ian joined the Old Nobles’ faction, his clashes with Count Parden became frequent.
To the count’s children, seeing Ian—who had grown up with them—on their father’s opposing side was hard to stomach.
“…Brother. Are you still upset with Ian?”
Aisha asked cautiously as they stepped aside.
Edward, who had been glaring at Ian, turned toward her.
“Ian did get father’s approval in advance. So please let it go, okay?”
Her pale blue eyes shimmered with anxiety.
Seeing his younger sister so troubled only worsened Edward’s mood.
“Aisha, do you really think that’s why I’m upset?”
“Huh?”
“Forget it. Don’t worry about it.”
Though Ian’s political choices displeased him, Edward’s anger wasn’t just about that.
Unlike Daniel, who had thrown a fit, Edward had no intention of making a scene over something their father approved.
‘That bastard Ian betrayed father. No—he outright took the duke’s side!’
‘Daniel, father already let it go. Don’t bring this up in front of Aisha.’
‘Come on, brother! You think just keeping quiet will fix it? And it’s not just about politics either. Aisha—be honest. Ian’s been cold to you lately, hasn’t he? It’s not just me imagining things. He danced with that Ruber girl twice yesterday, even though you were his partner. Did he even explain himself?’
The real issue was Ian’s behavior outside of politics.
His attitude toward Aisha had changed completely compared to a year ago.
He no longer took her to events. He constantly made excuses to delay the engagement.
At banquets, he often ignored her entirely, citing political factions.
‘Honestly, compared to the marquis, Lady Aisha’s a bit… lacking, don’t you think? And now that their families are politically split—’
‘Exactly. And really, wouldn’t you hate it too? It’s basically a one-sided crush. From the marquis’s perspective, some merchant’s daughter is just clinging to an old relationship.’
Aisha’s reputation declined more with each passing day.
But what infuriated Edward most wasn’t the gossip—it was how Aisha continued to care for Ian despite it all.
She worked tirelessly to mediate between Ian and her family.
