Chapter 91
From the way he spoke and carried himself, it was obvious the name he gave was fake.
Aisha looked at the man, who was blatantly lying, with a bewildered expression. Deciding she needed to get out of the situation first, she spoke.
“…Aisha.”
“Your family?”
“Like with my name—if you introduce yourself first, I’ll tell you as well.”
“That’s a bit difficult. Can’t I tell you later?”
The very act of having this exchange with him felt pathetic to Aisha.
When she stepped back warily, her guards quickly moved to stand in front of her.
From behind them, she tilted her head slightly and swiftly turned away.
“Then I’ll tell you later as well. Let’s go, Mari.”
Perhaps because her guards blocked the way, the stranger didn’t try to stop her this time.
Still, the heat of his gaze pricked at her back, and even after she left the shop and walked a good distance down the street, Aisha’s brows remained furrowed.
“She’s cute. And pretty. I like her.”
The man, who had introduced himself as Ymir, muttered this only after staring at Aisha until she was completely out of sight.
At that, the man standing silently to his right suddenly stepped forward with a sulky tone.
“…Why are you using my name, Lord Iskan?”
“What if she gave a fake name too?”
The real Ymir—emphasizing the words “Lord Iskan”—looked thoroughly displeased. But Iskan didn’t seem to care, muttering to himself before giving an order to the man on his left.
“Follow her and find out. She looks like a capital noble—if you just check the crest on her carriage, you should be able to figure out which family she’s from.”
Without a word, the man on the left bowed and vanished quickly, moving with the smoothness of a snake as he slipped out of the shop.
“And once you find out? Don’t tell me you’re planning to… again?”
Watching his departing companion, Ymir raised his voice.
Iskan only shrugged and glanced back at him.
“What’s with that face?”
“This time, you can’t. We barely have room in the palace for the wives you already have!”
“Then I’ll just build another one.”
“Then His Majesty won’t stand for it!”
“Then I’ll kick one out—Madiha or Kaula, take your pick.”
Ymir pressed a hand to his forehead in exasperation, but Iskan, unconcerned, toyed with the earring on his right ear and licked his lips.
“Don’t think of it as such a bad thing. It’s about time we had at least one wife from the Caesar Empire. That was part of the reason I came here, after all.”
“More precisely, she needs to be a member of the imperial family—or at least a high-ranking noble from the Caesar Empire.”
“That part slipped my mind. She’s probably not royalty… but what if she’s from a humble family?”
“…”
“Now that I think about it, that’s not a problem. I’ll just take her back along with my other wives.”
Ymir gave up trying to argue with his impossible master.
Satisfied with his own conclusion, Iskan stretched lazily and continued.
“Madiha wanted me to buy fabric from this village, so let’s head to the place that young lady mentioned. But first, we’ve got something to take care of.”
His crimson eyes, which had been gazing outside, rolled to the side and fixed on the shop’s inner door.
Even Ymir, who’d been watching him with exasperation, sharpened his gaze in that moment and reached for the dagger hidden in his robes.
“What should we do?”
“I don’t mind that they tried to overcharge me. But letting me be helped by a woman… that’s a matter of pride. Break both his arms.”
Ymir nodded and slipped through the door. Moments later, a pitiful scream tore through the shop.
The day after returning from Lafran Village, a large package arrived for Aisha early in the morning—about the size of a dress box.
Inside was an enormous bouquet, at least a hundred blooms, arranged in perfect harmony.
Each blossom was as fresh as if it had just been cut, and the fragrance was so rich that Mari, standing beside her, let out an involuntary gasp and waved her hand as if to pull the scent closer.
But Aisha showed no particular reaction. She simply stared down at the flowers in the box—no gasp of delight, no widened eyes of surprise.
Seeing her unmoved, Lloyd, who had delivered the bouquet, exchanged an awkward glance with the servant. He kept sneaking glances at Aisha until she finally sighed softly and spoke.
“…You may go.”
Mari and the servant both looked a little taken aback.
Normally, one would at least send a verbal or written thanks to the sender, but Aisha did neither.
“Yes, my lady… then I’ll take my leave.”
What could he say?
The servant bowed stiffly and left with a reluctant expression. Once he was gone from sight, Mari cautiously asked.
“What should we do with these?”
“They’re too pretty to throw away, but the house already has plenty of flowers for the vases. Let’s use them to decorate the servants’ quarters.”
“What? But…”
Mari’s eyes widened. She wasn’t a flower expert, but even she could tell that each bloom Ian had sent was valuable.
To use such expensive flowers for the servants’ quarters felt wasteful.
“Take them to Anne.”
Aisha’s tone left no room for argument. She had even decided which servant should receive them.
“…Ah.”
As soon as she turned away, dizziness washed over her, accompanied by a sharp jab in her stomach.
Aisha winced, and Mari, sensing something was wrong, stepped closer—but the pain had already passed. Aisha waved it off as nothing.
Straightening her back, she began to walk steadily again, with the heavy floral scent trailing behind her like an unshakable shadow.
“Was it the same today?”
“Yes…”
The servant felt like he was being punished despite doing nothing wrong. The piercing blue eyes fixed on him were full of suspicion, as if he were lying.
“…So you’re saying she didn’t say anything or react at all?”
“Yes, my lord.”
The servant’s legs trembled with fear. Only then did Ian rub his forehead and motion irritably for him to leave. The servant fled as if granted a reprieve from execution.
When the door closed, Ian pressed his hands to his temples and shut his eyes.
In his mind, he saw Aisha’s cold face as she stared at the bouquet he had sent.
Aisha.
Imagining her as distant and chilly as when he’d last seen her made his chest tighten.
Unable to bear it, he yanked off his cravat and tossed it to the floor.
Thud.
Even so, the anger didn’t subside.
He leaned back in his chair, breathing heavily, but the suffocating feeling in his throat remained.
…Why?
It had been over a week since Aisha had last shown him any reaction.
Every single day during that time, he had sent her bouquets—carefully chosen, exquisite flowers.
He’d expected that within three days at most, she would at least send a short note.
But not even the most perfunctory thank-you had come.
It was driving him insane.
If she would only send a letter telling him to stop, or give even the smallest reaction, he could use that as an excuse to approach her.
But her complete indifference left him at a loss.
Should I just go see her? I told her we shouldn’t meet for a while, but by now…
The thought made him spring to his feet—only for him to sink back down, lips pressed tight, shaking his head.
No. If I go and she finishes saying what she meant to that night…
The reason he couldn’t bring himself to see her was simple.
That late night, he had guessed the rest of the sentence she hadn’t finished.
Ian, let’s take some time apart and think. First, about the engagement…
Never once had Ian imagined Aisha would say anything negative about their engagement.
So even as he tried to convince himself he was imagining things, fear gnawed at him.
…Just a little longer. It’s only been a week.
He shook his head, trying to banish the thought.
But the more he sat still, the more vividly Aisha’s frosty expression rose in his mind, drawing a low groan from his throat.
After a long sigh, Ian finally looked down at the papers stacked high on his desk.
Maybe if he forced himself to focus on work, the anxiety would fade.
Biting his lip until it bled, he pulled the top document toward him.
Asta Kingdom…
By some fortune—or misfortune—it was an important matter.
For the first time in five years, a delegation from the Asta Kingdom was visiting. Recently, the old noble faction and the new noble faction had been locked in a fierce power struggle over who would host them.
“They’re not coming to the imperial palace. That means the Palace Affairs Ministry should handle it.”
“No, they’re an official delegation. The Foreign Ministry should take charge.”
The background of the dispute lay in trade.
Though far across the sea from the Caesar Empire, Asta possessed certain key goods, making it a vital trading partner.
Among them, a few rare spices found only in Asta were hugely popular in the Empire, and the trade volume had been growing steadily.
The problem was that the Astans unloaded their goods at a port in a city dominated by the old noble faction.
The old nobles had used their merchant networks to quietly block merchants allied with the new noble faction from entering the port.
In response, the new noble faction had been working behind the scenes for years to persuade Asta’s leadership to change ports.
Since Asta strictly regulated commerce at the national level, this was actually possible.
But when the old nobles caught wind of this, they too began courting Asta’s upper ranks to prevent the change.
The Asta Kingdom is sending a delegation—and the crown prince himself is leading it!
With the highest-ranking figure in Asta short of the king himself coming, both factions were now on high alert.
