36.
In the quiet, empty room, Gerald closed his eyes and focused on the sounds around him.
From the distance, he could hear the voices of Baronet Kylon and nephews he had never laid eyes on.
Anger surged within his chest, a scalding tide he swallowed down with effort.
It was not yet the time. Finding his missing youngest nephew remained the priority.
Setting his teacup down without a sound, Gerald spoke.
“Kay.”
Kay prostrated himself before him.
“Track Baronet Kylon and find Perido.”
At his brief command, Kay vanished once more into the shadows.
Shortly after, the quick, rhythmic sound of Olive’s footsteps echoed down the hallway.
“Come in.”
Olive entered, his expression laced with indignation.
“It seems Baronet Kylon has handled tomorrow’s funeral with unseemly haste. Many nobles have yet to receive notice. And…”
Olive hesitated, struggling to continue.
Gerald did not rush him, simply picking up his teacup in a heavy, deliberate silence.
“They say the bodies of the Count and his wife were so badly damaged that they have already been cremated. At tomorrow’s funeral, they will… the cremated remains will be…”
Olive could not finish his sentence, his voice thick with grief.
No noble would ever cremate their dead before the funeral rites.
The Duke’s tightly shut eyelids slowly opened.
Terrifying bloodlust spilled from his piercing, brilliant silver eyes.
The porcelain teacup in Gerald’s grip turned to powder, the shards and dust scattering onto the floor.
His red lips parted slowly.
“…How dare they.”
Olive trembled, a chill running through him.
He had served the Duke for nearly his entire life, but he had never seen him this enraged.
* * *
Marin was focused on a map, her pink lips pursed into a circle. She had studied the parchment for so many days that she could practically map the topography from memory.
“This makes no sense. Arriving in a week is impossible.”
A lament-like mutter escaped her.
She had known full well the distance from the Western Region to the Southern Region was vast. Yet, Olive had insisted they would traverse the journey—a trek that should take ten days—in a single week by riding hard.
Who was it that said ignorance is bliss?
Tormented by the shame of being left behind due to her trauma, Marin had packed her bags in secret. She had braved the thought of following them alone.
That was how she had started studying the map. Even in a straight line, the path from the West to the South was treacherous, riddled with jagged mountain ranges.
She was confident in her riding, but not enough to navigate such terrain alone.
On top of that, it would be a disaster if she encountered bandits.
Even if she managed to arrive after all sorts of hardships, the Duke’s cold sneer would likely be the only thing waiting for her.
“Sigh.”
A deep breath escaped her as she tore her gaze away from the map. She had come up with many plans, but they were all reckless.
He hated noise; would he be able to endure the carriage ride? Was he eating properly? The Mandlesong herbs must be running out by now. Should she have taught him how to prepare them? How many days had it been since he had last slept?
“You, what is so serious?”
“It’s not serious, but… who are you?”
In this quiet, secluded library, the only person who would talk to her was Zero. Assuming it was him, Marin turned her head—only to widen her eyes at the sight of a stranger.
Long silver hair shone like the Milky Way. Deep blue eyes emitted a cold light from behind spectacles. Alluring, reddish lips.
Ah, so dazzling. A man of incredible beauty stood before her.
“This is our first introduction. I am Zeromian Rodel Saint. I am Zero’s older brother.”
Zeromian bowed slightly, meeting her gaze with a pleased look.
“Ah, hello. I am Marin.”
Marin hurriedly rose from her seat, greeting him with a bewildered expression.
“I’ve heard a lot about you from Zero. We’ve finally met.”
Zeromian smiled with his eyes, speaking in a friendly tone.
“Is that so?”
Marin mimicked his awkward smile and averted her gaze.
So, this is his true form. She couldn’t exactly say, ‘Actually, I know you two are the same person.’
The one who often transformed into a child had appeared in his true form.
What did this mean?
In the novel, he revealed his true form only long after meeting the female lead, and his full name never appeared.
Zeromian Rodel Saint.
So, Zero was just a shortened version of his long name.
But Saint? It was a surname she had heard somewhere before.
The name lingered in her mind, and Marin repeated it to herself.
*Saint. Saint? Could it be the Northern Ducal family? Does this mean this man is the Young Duke of the North?*
Having realized this unexpected fact, Marin stared at Zeromian with eyes as wide as a startled rabbit’s. His blue eyes locked onto hers, as if observing her reaction.
To pretend she didn’t know his status, Marin quickly lowered her gaze, hiding her shock.
If the Western Ducal family kept the monsters of the desert at bay, the Northern Ducal family guarded against the creatures of the mountain ranges. The Northern Ducal family was even less active in society than the Western Ducal family, remaining a mystery shrouded in a veil.
That was why she hadn’t immediately connected the name.
Even if this was a world inside a novel, could the Young Duke of another family really be standing so close? There were only four such families in the vast Empire!
Usually, using a pseudonym meant one wanted to remain hidden; was it okay to reveal such things? Or did he assume that because she was a commoner, she wouldn’t know?
“Why do you have such a surprised look on your face?”
She had been caught. His voice was kind, but his blue eyes held a sharp, inquisitive glint.
“Yes? Oh, it’s just… you look so much like Mr. Zero.”
“I hear that often.”
“Yes. You look exactly the same. I think Mr. Zero will look like this when he becomes an adult.”
“There is no one in the Empire as beautiful as I am, so if Zero resembles me, it is his good fortune. Don’t you agree?”
Zeromian winked, joking easily.
“That’s true.”
Marin nodded, seemingly in agreement.
However, as if her reaction were unexpected, Zeromian suddenly took off his glasses and wiped them roughly with his sleeve. The earlobes visible beneath his sparkling silver hair were flushed red.
It was fascinating to see him, usually so confident, flustered by a single word.
Putting his glasses back on, Zeromian changed the subject with a composed expression.
“More importantly, you haven’t answered my question yet.”
“What question?”
Marin asked, feigning ignorance.
“What is so serious.”
When Zeromian pressed her, she finally recalled their initial conversation.
“Ah, it’s not serious. I was just wondering if His Grace the Duke is traveling well.”
“There is no need to worry about that fellow. He is the strongest man in the Empire.”
“Worry… is it?”
Marin realized her own feelings, which she hadn’t truly anticipated.
“Weren’t you worried?”
“Um, I suppose so. Worried. I was worrying about His Grace the Duke…”
As Zeromian said, the Duke was the strongest in the Empire and the male protagonist of the original novel. He would face hardships and trials, but he was the hero of a happy ending where everything was resolved.
Had she grown close enough to him to feel genuine affection after spending time together?
Marin shook her head vigorously.
*No. It’s just me being too committed to my work.*
Marin nodded, sorting out her thoughts.
Zeromian observed her as she struggled, shaking and nodding her head, his eyes burning with curiosity.
“Thank you, Mr. Zeromian.”
“Are you done thinking?”
He asked with a smile, as if the sight were amusing.
“Yes. You awakened my work ethic.”
“Oh my. I am even capable of such things.”
As he praised himself, Marin nodded in affirmation.
“Yes. Mr. Zeromian, you are truly amazing. I cannot just sit here worrying either. May I excuse myself first?”
Marin folded the map she had spread out with a crisp sound.
“Yes, please do.”
“Then, see you again next time.”
Marin left the library with a bright smile.
“Very interesting.”
As if he had encountered a fascinating research subject, Zeromian’s sparkling gaze lingered on her retreating back for a long time.