Chapter 44

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: Conditional Respite

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“No matter that you're my guard knight, you know we've grown up together like family since childhood. This time, Florence crossed the line.”

He referred to Iona as family,

“You're the only one allowed to enter my space without permission.”

and they often sat across from each other like friends, sharing cigarettes without reservation.

“Iona, you know full well who I truly cherish more.”

He acted as if she took precedence over his fiancée.

Richardt had become her family, her friend, or her lover whenever the moment called for it.

Unlike genuine bonds that demanded constant effort, this relationship—functioning on obedience alone—was remarkably convenient.

She found even this counterfeit version sufficient to satisfy her. Everything else had always ended in failure.

But if she kept settling for this, she would die without ever experiencing the real thing.

Iona knew all too well, from hard experience, just how hollow that would feel.

“If Your Highness says such things, Lady Florence will feel quite slighted. She is the one betrothed to you, after all.”

Iona said politely as she pushed Richardt's hand away.

He seemed momentarily taken aback by her refusal but soon soothed her with a gentle tone.

“You're quite angry.”

“It's true I was furious when Lady Florence resorted to violence, but I've handled it appropriately, so any lingering resentment is gone. It's all in the past now—please don't worry yourself further, Your Highness.”

“How could I not worry when your cheek is like this?”

As he spoke, Richardt gazed down at Iona's bruised cheek with what seemed like pity.

His expression was convincingly earnest, yet it didn't convey true outrage over what she'd endured.

If he had genuinely cared, he would have summoned her much sooner to inquire about the situation.

“Tell me, Iona. What do you want? Shall I summon her to apologize to you formally? We could demand real compensation from the Lantzhoff family. Or spread rumors about Florence's nasty habit of striking others where everyone will hear. Or...”

“...”

“...I could choose to break off the engagement with her.”

He drawled the final words.

Iona fell into brief contemplation as the acrid scent of tobacco filled her nostrils.

What answer was he fishing for with this probing?

Perhaps Richardt was simply flaunting how far he would go to placate a subordinate.

Whatever the case, Iona's response was already decided.

“Then I'd like some vacation time.”

“...What?”

“Once I start mingling in high society, Lady Florence won't be able to treat me so roughly anymore. I've been making time for various gatherings lately, but juggling them with work leaves much to be desired.”

To make it impossible for him to refuse, Iona hastily invoked Florence's name.

In truth, it wasn't far from the mark. Florence had been able to treat Iona so harshly precisely because she saw her as a mere subordinate.

If they'd encountered each other as fellow noble ladies at a social event, even the reckless Florence wouldn't have dared lay a hand on her so freely.

Yet Richardt didn't grant Iona's request right away.

He pondered silently, cigar in mouth, before turning toward the side table beside her.

As he stubbed out the cigar in the ashtray, a foul odor mingled with the smoke from the crushed tobacco.

It was a thoughtless act that disregarded Iona's wish not to carry the smell of tobacco during work hours.

He brushed past her on his way back to his desk and continued.

“Fine.”

“But on one condition. During your leave, accompany me to one public event as my partner, whenever I wish.”

“Pardon?”

Caught off guard by the unexpected demand, Iona stared at Richardt in surprise.

He pulled out his chair and sat, picking up the documents he'd discarded earlier. Without even glancing her way, he chided her demeanor.

“Since when do you question my words?”

“...”

“If you understand, then leave.”

Iona, who had been sitting there dazed, snapped to attention and rose from her seat.

In this situation, she couldn't very well refuse even vacation time by saying she hated playing his partner.

Iona offered a impeccably courteous bow and farewell before stepping out.

The moment the door closed, tension drained from her rigid shoulders.

'Did I shoot myself in the foot by using social gatherings as an excuse?'

Truth be told, she needed time to handle other matters, but her loose tongue had invited unnecessary trouble.

At any rate, given Duke Leroy's suspicions about her and Richardt's relationship in her past life, she figured she should preemptively explain this.

'Not that he'll get jealous or anything.'

Iona gave a wry smile at the utterly absurd notion.

In their current circumstances, if anyone were prone to jealousy, it was her, not him.

As she traversed the corridor, Iona recalled Richardt's earlier bold declaration.

“I'll handle convincing the duke myself.”

Where on earth did his confidence come from?

Richardt had been convinced from the start that his plan to marry her off to Leroy would succeed without a hitch.

It was a strangely assured attitude, considering Leroy might refuse.

'Given the circumstances, it has to be that card he's holding.'

Richardt had already known the whereabouts of Leroy's former fiancée, Viviana, by this point.

That meant Iona needed to make contact with her sooner than planned. Otherwise, Richardt might exploit her first.

It didn't matter if Viviana's reappearance shook Leroy.

Still, Iona had no desire to see him cry again—especially not tears shed in grief over the death of the woman he loved.

“Oh my... Lady Iona. You're here again today?”

A woman who had just alighted from her carriage much like Iona greeted her with evident surprise, as if her presence was wholly unexpected.

Iona lightly brushed the wrinkles from her uniform, formed during the journey, and asked,

“Yes. Is there some problem?”

“No, no, ho ho. It's just that those without much hobby often quit soon after starting. We're delighted if you keep coming steadily.”

With that, the woman hurriedly waved her hand dismissively.

Iona realized why she'd seemed so startled at the sight of her—the attendance at the embroidery circle had apparently been poorer than expected.

'Well, embroidery isn't exactly the sort of hobby that requires showing up to gatherings to enjoy.'

It could be fully accomplished alone, and that might even yield better results.

During the last meeting, Iona had pricked her needle wrong several times while chatting with others.

Iona brushed it off as no big deal and headed to the parlor where the gathering was held, alongside the woman.

Viscountess Schüller's wife, the hostess, had prepared simple tea foods and drinks and was awaiting her guests.

Spotting them at the doorway, she let out a small “Oh” of admiration.

“You've arrived, Lady Claudia. And... Lady Iona as well.”

She mentioned Iona in a somewhat uncomfortable tone and offered an equally awkward smile.

“Did you bring that handkerchief you were embroidering last time, Lady Iona?”

“Yes. I hope to finish it today.”

“Mm, good. A bold attitude—I admire your spirit.”

Viscountess Schüller nodded slowly and clapped languidly. Then, with practiced ease, she handed them off to a maid.

Seated inside alongside Claudia, Iona set her handkerchief and sewing kit on the table.

The appointed time had already passed, so the empty seats filled quickly.

Including Iona, there were eight attendees in total—all familiar faces from introductions at the previous gathering.

The last to arrive was Lady Erna of the Disler Count family.

“Hello, Lady Iona. We meet again?”