I could see the man who had just stepped down quite clearly.
He possessed ash-brown hair and an impressive, long-eyed gaze. His expression was gentle enough that one might easily mistake him for a traveling scholar.
He turned his gaze toward me, his eyes a strikingly pale, translucent emerald.
It was only when he stepped closer that I noticed the small, distinct mole resting just beneath his left eye. Perhaps that was why his expression seemed so bewitching when he curved his eyes to look at me.
“My, what a genuine honor to meet the empire’s greatest beauty here. Or should I say—long time no see?”
His voice was languid, yet it possessed a gentleness that captivated the ear. I didn’t react, merely raising an eyebrow.
*What is this? He’s far too handsome.*
The most handsome man I had encountered since arriving here was, without question, my fiancé. The tyrant brother was arguably his equal, and the second male lead, Noah, would be the next in line.
In any case, it seemed all the exceptionally handsome men were either characters from the novel or people intimately entangled with Charlize.
But an overly handsome man who appeared to know Charlize well? And that color combination—he wasn’t among the male leads in the book! His eyes were an incredibly pale, transparent hue; it was difficult to tell if they were mint or emerald.
“What is it? Why are you pretending to know me?”
“Ah, I see. Is that how it is?”
When I probed him, the man offered a soft smile. “Is today our first meeting, then?”
He extended his hand without a hint of offense. I did not take it. He withdrew it without a flicker of displeasure, placed it over his chest, and bowed with impeccable grace.
“I am the eldest son of the Child family, Ian Child. It is a pleasure to meet you, Duchess-To-Be Alzbeit.”
Ian. I hadn’t heard the name before, but the family name rang a bell.
*Wait, isn’t this the family Grandfather was trying to break my engagement with Askin for?*
I burned the name into my memory, along with this dangerously handsome face. Even if Charlize had no memory of him, his attitude and appearance suggested that she had definitely crossed paths with him at some point. There was history here.
*Yes, this is also Charlize’s karma….*
While my nerves tightened, I kept my expression impassive and turned away haughtily. I had to maintain a defensive posture. Instinctively shielding myself, I climbed into the carriage. Seeing my fiancé today had been enough of a trial.
Only after the carriage began to roll did I notice that Ian remained standing there, still bowed in a polite greeting.
He held that position for a very long time.
* * *
Ian slowly lifted his head.
A gentle, smiling expression remained fixed on his face like a mask. With that same smile, he traced his lips with a gloved hand.
*Hmm, what was that reaction?*
In truth, this was his first time seeing Charlize up close. He had been too occupied traveling between foreign lands for business. However, thanks to a younger brother who loved gossip and possessed a loose tongue, he was well aware of the notorious rumors surrounding the vicious Duchess-To-Be.
Charlize Alzbeit’s beauty was truly astonishing.
People claimed that to look upon her was to vow a thousand years of love, and that she possessed a cruelty sufficient to tear that love to shreds.
*What is it.*
To Ian, Charlize resembled a luscious fruit hanging at the very end of a high branch. And isn’t it the fruit hanging most precariously that tempts people the most? He had heard that many had been drawn to her appearance or tried to use her, only to return with severe, lasting wounds.
But…
“The term ‘poisoned apple’ suits her perfectly,” Ian muttered, watching the space where Charlize had disappeared.
“Young Count.”
“Ah, yes.”
Ian turned his head at his adjutant’s call. He reminded himself why he had come here today—it was for a matter of grave importance.
“Let’s go.”
Not long after, he finally met the owner of this dilapidated castle: Duke Remut.
Askin Remut.
Though he had squandered the wealth and honor accumulated by his ancestors and was barely clinging to this crumbling estate, he remained a figure impossible to overlook.
“I am Ian Child. I have come in place of my aging father.”
“……I was told Count Child would be coming personally?”
Ian offered a faint smile.
“Had my father come himself, he surely would have been spotted by Alzbeit long before any plan could be set in motion, Your Excellency.”
“You don’t seem like an idiot.”
The remark signaled to Ian that Duke Remut had been testing him and the Child family all along. Ian felt no offense at the scrutiny; he simply waited.
“Your Excellency, have you made up your mind?”
To his question—a thinly veiled inquiry into whether Askin would join forces with them—Askin remained inscrutable.
The Child family had extended an olive branch, offering to liquidate Askin’s debts in exchange for his cooperation. Unlike the predatory terms imposed by Alzbeit, this contract demanded no forced engagement, nor did it include interest that would trap him for a lifetime. It was a simple matter of principal repayment. They were offering a massive influx of capital without interest—a condition so exceptionally favorable that it bordered on suspicious.
“I will ask just one thing. Why would the Child family extend a hand while shouldering such a massive loss?”
To Ian, this man was a pearl buried in the filth—a gem found once in a millennium. Though currently mired in the dirt, he was someone destined to shine for the world to witness.
“My father and I dare to believe that Your Excellency’s talent is being wasted. In a sense, you might call this *noblesse oblige*—an attempt to use our wealth to ensure the world runs a little better.”
Ian held out his palm. To him, Askin Remut was a formidable asset.
“I know you are currently suffering under an unfair burden, shackled by debts that far exceed what you actually borrowed. Please, do not waste your life on such trifles. Use your ability for a greater cause.”
Ian maintained a polite, disarming smile. Playing harmless had long been his specialty.
“Furthermore, the Child family manages one of the five major merchant guilds. As a beneficiary of the ‘Yellow Road’ you maintained, we feel a deep, long-standing debt to you.”
Yellow Road.
The name was derived from the path carved through the yellow wasteland. Originally, the western empire was a vast, desolate stretch teeming with monsters. It was the man sitting before him who had subdued those beasts and secured a safe passage for merchant guilds—a feat he had accomplished at the age of twenty.
Askin remained silent.
Ian’s curiosity spiked, laced with a flicker of doubt. *My father was convinced he had already agreed. Seeing him now, that doesn’t seem to be the case. Has something happened to change his mind?*
Askin had all but confirmed his acceptance, and Ian had come today expecting nothing more than a final formality. Clearly, something had shifted.
Ian turned toward the contemplative Duke.
“I want to help you, but please understand that our family’s resources are not bottomless.”
“By when do you require an answer?”
“Please give me your final decision within a week. If the deadline passes, I will consider the contract void.”
Ian finished his piece and rose from his seat.
A sudden, pricking curiosity gnawed at him. What could have possibly caused a man of such firm resolve to hesitate now? It was a personal impulse—a flare of inquisitiveness he knew was a bad habit, yet he could not help but indulge.
He felt a premonition that if he discovered the reason, his interest would spiral out of control—paired with a gnawing anxiety that doing so would lead to significant trouble.
“Ah, come to think of it. I heard an interesting story while entering today.”
He could still stifle this curiosity.
Ian shifted the subject, attempting to suppress his own inquisitiveness.
“It seems that Duchess-To-Be Alzbeit recently helped the flood victims in this territory?”
Askin’s eyebrows twitched. Ian was taken aback.
Had he struck such a sensitive nerve?
“So, to express their gratitude, the residents voluntarily gathered local specialties and waited for the Duchess-To-Be today. Your Excellency’s people truly understand the meaning of grace.”
It was precisely because he had seen the piles of goods being loaded as his carriage entered that his curiosity had been piqued—enough to make him stop just to ask about the situation.
It was fascinating enough that the Duchess-To-Be of Alzbeit had voluntarily bestowed such kindness upon the residents.
What was even more surprising was Askin’s reaction to the news.
‘Why is he so surprised?’
Ian tilted his head at Askin’s demeanor, which suggested he had been completely unaware.
Charlize and Askin. Rumor had it that the two of them shared a connection defined by Askin’s one-sided hatred toward her.
Curiosity, like a mischievous cat, kept rearing its head.
“Then, Your Excellency, I shall look forward to a positive response.”
Ian bowed his head respectfully.