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Tristan’s subordinate approached and spoke in a low voice, getting straight to the point.

“There are rumors of a monster appearing in the ‘Blue Atrium.’”

“……”

“They’re just rumors circulating among the peasants, so I couldn’t formally report it…”

“Wait a mont.”

Tristan, for all his arrogance, was far from a fool. The brief clue struck his mind like lightning.

He flipped through the recently received budget and expenditure report for the ‘Blue Atrium,’ quickly piecing together the fragnts in his head.

“...There’s sothing about this that’s too concerning to dismiss as a re rumor.”

“Pardon?”

“Last year, a significant sum was spent reclaiming the lord’s forest. That’s usually sothing that happens when starving villagers encroach during a famine, but there’s no record in this report of crop failures or wild boar infestations.”

The omitted details in the expenditure resolution for reclaiming the forest were followed by records of additional soldier recruitnt and expenses for funerals of the deceased, lending credence to a grim suspicion.

“Do we have any tangible evidence proving the existence of the monster?”

“No. Only the accounts of a few herb gatherers.”

“I see.”

For now, all he could do was ruminate on the worst-case scenario.

‘Father might hand the Blue Atrium over to Arthur Albion.’

A territory plagued by monsters couldn’t be ruled by just anyone. The lord of such a place needed to prove their ability to lead soldiers and deal with threats when necessary.

‘Well, if it cos down to proving swordsmanship, I could manage—’

But the Blue Atrium bordered Frost Hill, the Northern Duke’s domain.

The king was far more likely to entrust such valuable land to the Northern Duke rather than risk it being ravaged by monsters.

His subordinate, seeing the scattered docunts on ‘Arthur Albion,’ must have reached the sa realization.

The man now gazed at Tristan with loyal yet expectant eyes, awaiting further orders.

Tristan waved his hand dismissively.

“I need ti to sort out my thoughts. Leave for now.”

“Pardon?”

“Why are you surprised?”

“There’s still a docunt left that you must receive personally.”

“...Ah.”

The subordinate cautiously pulled a docunt from deep within his coat. It detailed the social events Maria had recently attended and those she was likely to be invited to. The man probably wasn’t thrilled to be carrying such a report openly.

“I hope you enjoy a peaceful evening.”

After handing over the docunt, the subordinate quickly exited the room. But Tristan didn’t bother to look at the “confidential docunt.” Not long ago, he would’ve been obsessively curious about Maria’s whereabouts, but now his mind was consud by entirely different questions.

‘Arthur Albion. What’s your connection to my fiancée?’

To be honest—his subordinate would be appalled to hear this—Tristan didn’t care if the Blue Atrium was taken. To be precise, he had resigned himself to that possibility the mont he heard about the monsters.

‘Father doesn’t trust anyway.’

A land where monsters appeared was also likely to harbor magic stones. His Majesty wouldn’t risk entrusting such a valuable territory to his youngest son, preferring to hand it to a proven commander.

‘It’s fine… I’ll be fine.’

Father would find him another suitable piece of land. That would be enough.

A prosperous estate where Tristan and his wife could live comfortably...

But then his train of thought screeched to a halt, snagged on one unsettling sentence.

‘Arthur Albion… took it from .’

Sothing that should’ve been his.

Sothing as constant and unremarkable as air, now in that man’s hands...

‘What guarantee is there that it’ll stop at the Blue Atrium?’

A wave of revulsion surged through him like nausea.

Tristan stood abruptly and yanked the pull cord. The subordinate from earlier rushed back in.

“Your Highness, you called?”

“I need information. Look into Arthur Albion’s party invitations.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

The subordinate, though weary, smiled as he recognized the scale of his master’s ambition.

Little did he realize, it wasn’t headed in the direction he expected.

***

From the early morning, the Earl and Countess of Redfield were practically drinking delusions of grandeur for breakfast.

Oh, not literally, of course. No kimchi was involved.

“Natalie, you look absolutely stunning today! Arthur Albion might act all high and mighty, but he’s just a country boy. The mont he lays eyes on a beauty like you, he’ll fall head over heels!”

In other words, they were already daydreaming about welcoming the future Duke of the North as their son-in-law.

Natalie replied with indifference, “You’re stating the obvious. I’m always beautiful.”

“Of course! But beauty shines brightest when it’s appreciated by the right audience, doesn’t it? Securing the young duke will make you truly perfect.”

“The young duke is only twenty-one, isn’t he? Boys that age always go for won who are as pure as the first snow and as delicate as lilies.”

“Well, that may be true. When I was young—”

The Earl’s face took on a wistful expression, as though reminiscing about soone specific.

I silently munched on my ntal popcorn while watching this rare display of sentintality from him. But, alas, the Countess’s exasperated glare snapped him back to his usual self.

“Ahem. What would a boy from the snowy North know about romance? After just a few outings with you, he’ll be putty in your hands.”

The Countess stepped back, spritzing her daughter with perfu before declaring, “Perfect. Even the queen will regret not having you as a daughter-in-law when she sees you today.”

Today was the day of the Queen’s May Ball, an event ant to celebrate and encourage this year’s debutantes. Families who didn’t qualify for the debutante invitations received a single ticket, and upon hearing that Arthur Albion would be attending, the Redfields decided to send Natalie.

Have a safe trip, Natalie.

‘And while you’re there, let Maria and Tristan dance together, spread the rumors, and secure my Sacred Salon victory!’

I couldn’t help but smile at the thought. This weekend, I’d be holding my head high at the Salon—cashing in my chips, enjoying so fine wine, and maybe even running into that mysterious man in the skull mask…

Stop it, Doris! Pull yourself together! You’re starting to think like Tristan!

Natalie shot a skeptical look.

“Doris. Why are you grinning one mont and flinching the next?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, sister. I’m fine.”

The Countess clicked her tongue.

“Doris, stop worrying your sister. Natalie, focus on yourself. Is there anything else you need? Should we add feathers to your hairpiece?”

“There’s a more important question you should be asking, don’t you think?”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“Whether I even want the young duke.”

At that, the Earl and Countess froze in place, their hands mid-air.

The Earl, his pipe tapping against his front teeth, broke the silence slowly.

“Does that matter?”

“Doesn’t it?”

“What matters most is that the Redfield family wants him. As the second daughter of the Redfields, you have a duty to fulfill.”

Ugh, how insufferable.

Now that I think about it, in the original story, Natalie didn’t seem to genuinely like Arthur. She treated him more like a prize to win.

That attitude… it must’ve co from these two.

‘Natalie doesn’t look too happy.’

If an argunt breaks out, I’m siding with Natalie.

Children aren’t pawns for their parents’ ambitions!

But then Natalie said sothing completely unexpected.

“Of course. As the second daughter of the Redfield family, I’ll fulfill my duty and love my family.”

…What?

No, really—what? Did I hear that right?

Family? Love? Did Natalie just say that? Did she hit her head recently?

Even the Countess looked alard.

“N-Natalie? Why are you saying that all of a sudden?”

“Isn’t family duty ultimately about loving one’s family? And love is the highest value in any family.”

“Uh, well, yes, that’s true…”

“Thank you for helping prepare. I’ll be off with Aunt shortly.”

Natalie curtsied gracefully to her parents. They looked like they had at least a bucket more of nagging left, but her sudden “love attack” left them too bewildered to respond properly. They stamred out a stiff “Have a good ti” before retreating down the hall.

Once they were gone, Natalie muttered under her breath, as though spitting out a bitter taste.

“They’re unbelievable.”

Oh, thank goodness. That nonsense was just an act!

I let out a sigh of relief, and Natalie shot a sideways glance.

“Why do you look so relieved?”

“You finally seem like yourself again, sister.”

“And you, Doris—you haven’t seed like yourself for months now.”

“You like better this way, don’t you?”

“Hah!”

Her sharp laugh was oddly refreshing. One corner of her mouth curled upward, and her eyes, folded like crescent moons, glinted with amusent.

“Doris, there’s so ti before the ball. Want to join for tea?”

“Tea? Now?”

“There’s a tea house that makes wonderfully crispy waffles. The portions are too big for to finish alone. What do you say?”

“……”

“Great. Dress up and et downstairs.”

“I didn’t even say yes!”

“You did. With your face.”

No, I didn’t!

…Maybe I did.

What do waffles taste like in this world? Everything else made with flour has been delicious so far, so these waffles are probably amazing. Will they co with ice cream? At the very least, there’ll be maple syrup, right?

Ah, now I’m hungry.

As I was getting ready, the maid asked , “Miss Doris, did you skip lunch? You look hungry. If it’s too much, I can offer you my snack—”

“No, I’m fine! Just… tie the corset loosely, please.”

“Of course. Enjoy your outing!”

I put on my dress instead of borrowing Natalie’s. I decided to save the fancy ones for the Sacred Salon.

Natalie frowned as we sat across from each other in the carriage.

“Your dress is plain again.”

“Your clothes are too cold.”

“You better wear sothing nice in sumr.”

The carriage began to roll down the main road.

Natalie and I didn’t have much in common, so our conversation fizzled out quickly. But the silence wasn’t uncomfortable.

Is this what having a sister is like?

You bicker and exchange harsh words, but they still look out for you in their own way.

It doesn’t feel too bad…

Wait a second.

“Um, sister.”

“What?”

“This carriage… it’s going to the tea house, right?”

Just now, soone outside yelled, “The Earl of Redfield is arriving!” And the scenery outside was no longer the city.

Could it be…

“We’re heading to the royal palace. You’ll be attending the ball in my place. Aunt will join you shortly.”

“What? Why ?”

“Arthur Albion will be at the ball. Weren’t you interested in him?”

Oh no.

The incident at the greenhouse suddenly ca back to . She’s still misunderstanding that!

“I’m not interested! I think you’re misunderstanding sothing—”

“So what if I am?”

Natalie shrugged nonchalantly.

“Whether I misunderstand or not is my business.”

“……”

“Well, I’m looking forward to you bringing back so entertaining stories. At the very least, step on your fiancé’s foot while you’re at it.”

Is this what sisters are like? Acting like they care while being totally unreasonable and self-centered?

The carriage soon ca to a stop, and Natalie placed her feathered headpiece on my head before ushering out.

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