“Huh, huh!”
Edel was too overcome by a mix of tension, fear, and exhaustion to think straight. Bracing herself for a fall, she squeezed her eyes shut.
But just as her body pitched forward, a large hand caught her, and the face that was about to hit the ground bumped against something firm yet yielding.
The unfamiliar scent that wafted towards her made Edel dizzy.
And when she realized her forehead had landed on Laslo’s chest, she pushed him away without thinking. It was a small mercy that she hadn’t screamed.
‘Is my life always this terrible…!’
Long ago, her etiquette tutor had once said,
“Pretending to be dizzy and leaning into a man is a truly vulgar way to seduce. A lady should never do such a thing.”
She had absolutely no intention of doing so, but it was a situation that could easily be misinterpreted.
Edel tried to stand upright on trembling legs and apologized.
“I’m sorry.”
Adding an explanation of what happened would only sound like a flimsy excuse, so she ended it with a simple “I’m sorry.”
She tried to apologize in a way that wouldn’t offend him, but she wasn’t sure if her voice had even come out properly.
However, Laslo, his face unreadable, looked down at her before turning away.
“Follow me.”
Edel, fighting back tears, followed him. Into the mansion that was sure to be hell.
* * *
“Count Krissus himself has just taken custody of the prisoner.”
Emperor Demarcus smiled faintly upon hearing the servant’s report.
“He would have.”
Though the hangover still lingered, he wasn’t in a bad mood. Everything he had planned yesterday had gone according to his will.
One of those things was handing Edele Lancaster over to Laslo.
‘That block of ice showed some interest in Edele Lancaster, at least.’
Demarcus recalled Laslo watching Edele at a banquet two years ago.
In the final war of conquest, for which he had contracted with Laslo, known by the moniker “King of Mercenaries,” and employed his mercenaries, Laslo had achieved more than the noble knights could have.
To exaggerate, it was almost as if he had won the war single-handedly.
Even so, Laslo was not greedy.
“Tell me what you want. Anything is fine.”
“The amount I will receive is detailed in the contract, Your Majesty.”
Demarcus, who had ascended to the throne at a young age and in less-than-ideal circumstances, had made an offer like a blank check to tie down valuable talent, but Laslo had casually ignored it.
Intrigued and competitive, Demarcus impulsively bestowed a countship upon him.
Of course, he had added plausible justifications, but Laslo must have known that refusing the Emperor’s ennoblement as a mere mercenary would be akin to a death sentence.
“Tsk. I shouldn’t have made a contract with Your Majesty in the first place.”
Demarcus had been so fond of Laslo, who had dared to send him a defiant glare.
‘He’s perfect to groom into a loyal dog.’
However, after looking into Laslo’s background, that thought changed slightly.
Laslo was a man with rather interesting secrets.
If those secrets were revealed, it might be a boon to Demarcus’s enemies, but he wanted to secure Laslo despite the risks.
‘He’s too valuable to be just a hunting dog. If nurtured properly, he could become a pillar supporting me.’
But he was lacking a bait to capture Laslo’s heart.
‘He has no interest in anything others are clamoring for…’
He already had enough money, and the number of mercenaries in his guild, , exceeded the number of soldiers a ducal family could muster.
Therefore, titles meant nothing to Laslo. Most nobles couldn’t compete with him in terms of wealth, soldiers, or power.
Finally, he turned to more primitive desires and tried offering him beautiful women, but Laslo remained indifferent.
He even sent a dancer, said to be a hundred percent successful in seducing men, but Laslo had sent her away with undisguised displeasure.
“Hey, you. Did you perhaps get injured somewhere unfortunate while working as a mercenary?”
“An ‘unfortunate place’…?”
“‘There,’ I mean, ‘there.’”
“…No. I don’t know why you’re asking about something like that.”
Despite Laslo’s contemptuous gaze, Demarcus couldn’t help but suspect that Laslo might be impotent.
He had learned, by chance, that Laslo showed a slightly different kind of interest in Edele.
“Look how those who opposed the conquest war have completely changed their tune. Isn’t it truly amusing?”
“….”
“Laslo…?”
Demarcus, who had muttered to himself during the banquet, realized Laslo, who usually responded at least curtly, was silent and turned his head.
And he noticed that Laslo’s gaze was fixed on a certain woman. His brow was slightly furrowed, and his expression was not particularly favorable.
But the fact that Laslo was looking at the woman, not even listening to him, pricked Demarcus’s ‘instinct.’
He scanned the direction Laslo was looking.
‘Hmm? Isn’t that the daughter of Count Canyon…?’
There stood Edele Canyon, famous as the top prospective bride.
She was said to be marrying the decrepit Duke Lancaster soon, and though she must have known it, she was still smiling with impeccable composure.
Demarcus clicked his tongue.
‘Damn. I can’t just steal the woman who’s about to become the wife of that Lancaster fellow…’
That would cause a huge uproar.
Regrettably, but unavoidably, he lost interest and forgot about the existence of a woman named Edele. Until he received intelligence that Duke Lancaster was preparing for independence.
‘Does Laslo even know that the Duke brought his two daughters alive to give her to me?’
Demarcus chuckled as he drank some water.
He felt like boasting to Laslo about going through such trouble, but given Laslo’s peculiar aversion to fuss, he might even reject Edele.
It was a gamble based solely on the unwavering gaze she fixed upon him, a gaze that showed no hint of passion.
Demarcus intended to watch how the situation unfolded, like observing the roll of dice.
‘Will Edele Lancaster truly ignite the passion in Laslo?’
Demarcus, who had never lost a gamble, stood up with a meaningful smile.
It was a bright late autumn morning.
* * *
“Marsha!”
Entering the mansion with Edel trailing behind him, Laslo immediately called for the head housekeeper.
The housekeeper, who appeared to be in her mid-forties, approached with quick steps, suppressing any hint of annoyance.
“You called, Count.”
“Anything unusual?”
“What could be unusual? I, Marsha, manage all affairs within the mansion, so please don’t worry. Hohoho.”
Edel, who had been wondering why no one had come out to greet the head of the household, blinked at the claim that the head housekeeper managed everything.
‘What on earth does that mean? Is the housekeeper exaggerating?’
The situation was incomprehensible to Edel, but Laslo, as if accustomed to it, moved directly to the matter at hand.
“Did you say you were short on maids?”
“Yes, Count. As I mentioned before, you need to speak to Lady Lynnia about this. If maids keep quitting like this, even I, a veteran, cannot maintain the household…”
“Here, an additional staff member. Arrange her as you see fit.”
At those words, the housekeeper’s eyes widened, and Edel was equally surprised.
‘He’s really going to hire me as a maid?’
While Edel listened intently, the housekeeper asked Laslo, “An additional staff member? Who…?”
“Are you blind? She’s right here.”
Laslo gestured towards Edel with his chin.
The housekeeper scanned her up and down and then asked again, “You… you want to hire her… as a maid?”
“She’s not ‘her.’ She is merely a prisoner of war granted to me by His Majesty the Emperor.”
“Ah!”
She nodded, as if finally understanding. In the meantime, she even pried for information about Edel’s circumstances, asking Laslo, “But how did this person, no, this woman, become a prisoner?”
“A trade? What was her original status?”
However, Laslo didn’t answer and turned away.
“First, wash her, feed her, and let her sleep. Give her any available servant’s room, and start making her work tomorrow. She’ll probably have a lot to learn at first.”
Then he went upstairs.
As soon as he disappeared, Housekeeper Marsha’s demeanor immediately turned haughty.
“Hmph… a noble lady turned into a maid…”
She lifted Edel’s chin with her fingertips.
Although it was humiliating, Edel didn’t change her indifferent expression and met Marsha’s gaze at her chin.
Marsha turned Edel’s face from side to side and snickered.
“Where should I use this pretty thing?”
Just then, a young maid scurried over and whispered to Marsha.