10.
“Lady Marin.”
I didn’t know how much time had passed.
Buried in paperwork, Marin looked up, her expression hollow.
“Yes?”
Olive set a plate on the desk, holding warm black tea and a slice of yellow cheesecake.
“Why are you…?”
Marin gazed up at Olive, her eyes wide.
“Because I believe we should start now.”
“Start what?”
“The Duke’s orders.”
Following Olive’s gaze, I looked down at my own wrist.
It was unfair. The circle formed by the Duke’s fingers had been large only because his hands were massive. My wrist was just a little slender—that was all.
“I’m not that thin….”
Marin tried to protest, but then she caught Olive’s pitying gaze.
*Ah, I really am thin. Thin enough to elicit such pitiful looks.*
Marin held a moment of self-reflection with a solemn expression.
“Now, eat up. There is something else prepared for when you finish that.”
“I can’t eat that much.”
“You must try to eat more from now on.”
Olive’s gentle gaze shifted into strict subordinate mode.
Suddenly, the settings of the novel came to mind. Olive was a fanatical follower of the Duke—a character who would jump into a pit of fire without hesitation if commanded. I had only thought of him as a good superior, but I needed to be careful. Once the Duke gave the word, Olive wouldn’t stop until he had thoroughly fattened me up.
“Yes.”
What could a subordinate do? If the superior who held all the power gave an order, you followed it.
Marin cut the cheesecake into bite-sized pieces and popped one into her mouth. The rich cheese and sweet fragrance mingled; it was delicious. She cleansed her palate with the warm black tea. Eating it after such a long time, vague memories surfaced—days when I could always count on such treats.
Meanwhile, Olive observed Marin as she held her teacup. His eyes widened slightly before returning to normal.
“Um, Mr. Olive. I know this is a shameless request, but could I possibly wrap some of this cake up? I’m sorry to ask, especially since you’ve done it for me before.”
The cheesecake, melting softly on her tongue, made her think of her mother. She would surely love it.
“I’ll inform the kitchen.”
Olive nodded, offering a gentle smile.
“Thank you.”
Marin smiled bashfully and returned her focus to the cake.
It was then, as Olive watched her with a sharp, discerning gaze, that a knock sounded.
Knock, knock.
A voice resonated clearly through the hallway from behind the office door.
“It is the Butler.”
“Yes, please come in.”
An elderly gentleman with a sturdy build and a neat uniform entered. Though his hair and beard were white, his physique was so burly that his buttons seemed ready to burst, making it difficult to guess his exact age.
“Mr. Olive.”
The Butler stepped inside, bowed slightly, and looked up.
“Welcome, Sebas Chen.”
Olive greeted the butler with a bright, welcoming smile.
Marin’s eyes widened. *So that must be the Butler, Sebas Chen.* He was a character who had appeared in the novel a few times—a man with the unique history of having been a vice-captain of the Knights Order.
Feeling an unnecessary sense of inner intimacy, Marin wore a slight smile.
“Did you have a safe trip to the wedding? It’s quite emotional that your grandson is already getting married.”
Olive spoke in a friendly tone.
“Yes. Indeed. Time truly flies.”
Marin quietly listened to their conversation while sipping her tea. *Ah, so he was away for a few days for a wedding.*
“What brings you here?”
“I wanted to ask if it would be possible to offer my thanks to His Grace the Duke.”
Butler Sebas glanced at her for a moment before turning his gaze back to Olive.
“Ah, I see. My apologies. The timing isn’t right today.”
Olive shook his head slightly with a regretful look. Upon hearing this, Butler Sebas nodded with a disappointed expression, took a deep breath, and composed himself.
“I understand.”
Meanwhile, listening to their conversation, Marin was secretly startled. *So, the Duke’s condition can only be known through his Secretary Assistant.* I finally understood why an elderly butler treated a young assistant so deferentially.
“Lady Marin, this is Butler Sebas Chen.”
Marin stood up from her chair and bowed to greet him.
“Nice to meet you. I am Marin.”
“Lady Marin will be my assistant and the employee who will report to His Grace the Duke from now on.”
“It is a pleasure. You may call me Butler Sebas.”
Olive continued to talk about her as if showing her off.
“Lady Marin gives reports even better than I do. Even His Grace has acknowledged it.”
Butler Sebas’s surprised gaze lingered on Marin for a moment before shifting to Olive.
*His Grace, you say?* That fastidious man accepted a new person this quickly? The rest of the thought remained unsaid, but his eyes were speaking for him.
“Yes. He listened to Lady Marin’s report quite comfortably.”
Olive nodded with a satisfied smile. Butler Sebas looked at Marin with an expression of admiration.
“Lady Marin, if you ever need anything, please do not hesitate to tell me. Since you are serving His Grace the Duke, I would also like to help in any way I can.”
“Thank you for your consideration.”
“Please, do not hesitate to ask me even for the most trivial things.”
Butler Sebas sent a very intense look, as if to extract a promise from her.
“Yes. Thank you.”
Marin nodded with an awkward expression. In the novel, Butler Sebas was also one of the Duke’s most ardent followers.
*I have to be careful,* I thought. *Very careful among these followers, or my lies will be discovered.*
***
Olive waited in front of the office door with a trolley containing warm wine and cheese. A candle placed on the trolley illuminated the surroundings.
“Come in.”
The moment a drop of candle wax fell, the permission came from within.
Olive pushed the trolley inside. Since his eye injury, the Duke rarely left the office. He barely went to his bedroom more than once or twice a month.
“Your Grace. You must sleep today. You haven’t slept in days.”
“Do you think I will sleep if I drink wine?”
The weariness was palpable in the Duke’s voice as he identified the wine by its scent alone. There was no subordinate who viewed their lord with pity, yet seeing him unable to sleep for over a week, a feeling of regret arose naturally in Olive.
“Lady Marin mentioned that it might be helpful, so I brought some.”
“The temporary one?”
“Yes. She said her mother drank it and was able to sleep.”
“Where is the temporary one?”
“She has left for the day.”
Olive poured the wine and set the glass on the desk as quietly as possible. Surprisingly, the Duke picked up the glass without protest.
“About Lady Marin.”
“…….”
The Duke’s silence usually meant he wanted the other person to continue.
“I don’t think she is a commoner.”
“…….”
“It’s not just that she knows how to read; the mention of her mother drinking wine, which is rare for a commoner, and the way she holds a teacup—she is every bit a young lady of a noble family.”
“So, a spy?”
A subtle amusement permeated the Duke’s voice. *Does he want Lady Marin to be a spy? She’s clearly someone who is helpful to His Grace.*
Olive spoke honestly, his heart heavy with complexity.
“I’m not sure if she’s a spy, but it seems there is a need to investigate her.”
“I already have.”
“Understood.”
Olive placed the cheese plate on the desk and stepped back.
“Are you not going to ask more?”
“If there is anything I should know, Your Grace will tell me.”
Olive waited quietly with a soft smile.
“Tsk.”
The Duke clicked his tongue low, as if dissatisfied.
“She’s not a spy, just the daughter of a Viscount whose family went bankrupt.”
Olive’s mouth tightened.
“I see. Is her goal money, or you, Your Grace?”
“Me?”
“Yes. Even if her family is ruined, she is still a noble lady, so she might be aiming for you.”
“I don’t think she’s aiming for my life, though….”
“I mean marriage. It’s the first time a noble lady has approached in such a way, however.”
“Is the temporary one that seductive?”
Olive pondered for a long moment before opening his mouth.
“Hmm… That side of her, I think it’s closer to the cute side.”
“Olive.”
The Duke called him in a low voice.
“Yes.”
“Stop talking nonsense and get out.”
“Yes. Please get some rest.”
After Olive vanished like the wind, Gerald took a sip of the wine.
The palate he had been suppressing set off fireworks in his mouth. Sour, sweet, astringent, refreshing. Even the faint, fishy taste of water hidden deep within the wine.
“It’s not bad after all this time.”
What a strange woman.
Olive, who always wore a kind smile, was actually more guarded than anyone else. Yet, although he had been suspicious of her, he didn’t seem to be on guard.
*A woman who earns favor from everyone, huh….*
*Isn’t that the very virtue of a true spy?*
His enemies had missed out on a truly excellent spy.