----------------------------------------------------------------- Translator: Harry Potta Chapter: 64 Chapter Title: Recruitment Plans and Subtle Gratitude ----------------------------------------------------------------- To cut to the chase, the illness tormenting Baroness Fabron stemmed from a broken rib. It was a p...
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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 64
Chapter Title: Recruitment Plans and Subtle Gratitude
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To cut to the chase, the illness tormenting Baroness Fabron stemmed from a broken rib.
It was a potentially life-threatening situation if not handled properly, but fortunately, she was young, and with Marchioness Embros's timely support, the treatment went smoothly.
In fact, Marchioness Embros seemed to have made good on that "investment" in spades.
Not only did she summon the capital's top physician, but she even got High Priest Helios—who wouldn't stir for any ordinary donation—to personally visit the Fabron couple's home.
Word was, Baron Fabron had been utterly bewildered at first, wondering what was going on, but the moment his wife's cough stopped after holy power treatment, he burst into tears.
This news had been filtering into the Brail Duchy for days now.
How?
"Because society gossip rags know everything..."
Idle nobles had an insatiable curiosity about everyone else's business.
As a result, the gossip columns were full of wildly exaggerated tales.
Some even claimed Baron Fabron had begged the Embros marquis couple on his knees to take back their unfilial son-in-law.
From what I knew, he'd just gone to offer his thanks...
At any rate, it looked like the rift between the Embros marquis couple and their son and daughter-in-law was finally mending.
"So, what I need to do next...?"
Recruit her, obviously.
On my way back from a long-overdue visit to the Poretta Leather Workshop, I gazed at the uneven garden path stones and suddenly blurted out an impulsive question.
"How did it feel when I chose you?"
Flinch.
The hulking figure beside me twitched noticeably.
"...Pardon?"
Ian pointed at himself, as if unsure I meant him, and stared straight at me.
Ah, right—I'd skipped all the setup.
I'd gotten so excited about recruiting Baroness Fabron that I'd jumped ahead...
I shook my head lightly and clarified.
"When I offered you the bodyguard gig. What'd you think?"
"Ah..."
Only then did Ian's face settle back into its usual poker expression.
"He's the type where his face gives everything away, subtly."
As I smirked inwardly at the thought, his gaze dropped to the ground.
"...It wasn't."
"Huh?"
"It wasn't unpleasant."
Hm?
What did "not unpleasant" even mean?
Did he like it, or was it just not quite hate-worthy? It was an infuriatingly vague answer.
Ian caught my baffled look a beat too late and added hastily, his face saying whoops.
"...It was a little surprising, but you were considerate of my schedule, too."
"Oh, you mean negotiating the part-time hours?"
"Yes."
Fair enough.
I scratched my cheek, feeling sheepish.
Bodyguarding usually meant no days off, day or night, so from his perspective, it probably felt like I'd gone out of my way for him.
In truth, I just hated the idea of being stuck with someone all day long.
"Th-that said, I'm admitting now it was purely for my convenience."
But the longer our time together stretched, the more I realized it wasn't always uncomfortable sharing space with someone.
And I was now certain that was because he—who seemed so indifferent to others—subtly looked out for me in ways I hadn't even noticed.
Which meant I was genuinely grateful to Ian.
"You have no idea how relieved I was that you helped me that day. I'm the one who's truly thankful you've stuck with me."
Too cringey?
But baring your honest feelings always came with a dash of awkwardness.
Unable to meet his eyes, I looked away and delivered the words in my most sincere tone.
"Um, random thought, but if you're okay with it, Ian, how about we hire a few more bodyguard knights?"
"Pardon?"
"A team's better than going solo. You're busy, after all."
Truth be told, I hadn't anticipated going out this often when I first tapped him for the job.
I'd occasionally pushed past his off-hours, but once he started guarding, he'd stay by my side without a single complaint until we returned to the ducal residence.
He'd give me those ambiguous stares sometimes, though.
"Like he was wondering when I'd finally clock him out."
Probably spot-on.
At any rate, that's when I resolved to hire other bodyguards besides Ian!
"It'd help protect your personal time more, too."
"...No need."
"No need to refuse. From what I've seen, you value your privacy a lot. Three hours a day, no expeditions—it screams side hustle..."
Suddenly curious about his other work, I ventured carefully.
"Y-you can't tell me what your main gig is, right?"
"Yes. That's..."
Ian answered awkwardly and took a step back. Then, with a resolute expression, he added.
"But rather than adding more guards, if needed... I'll consider extending my shifts."
Is that okay? He looks exhausted.
The duke and Ian were night-and-day different now, making my initial mix-up seem ridiculous.
For starters, Duke Brail was a shark of an employer, greedily scraping every coin from me.
Ian, on the other hand, was a diligent worker who loyally stuck around even when I blew past his off-time!
Beyond their shared looks, though, they had one thing in common: the dark circles under their eyes only deepened with time.
Tangent, but my point was—whatever his day job was, he looked swamped, and working him like this gave me pangs of guilt.
"...You sure you're really okay?"
"Yes. I'm fine. And since it's off-hours now, may I head out?"
Before I knew it, Ian and I had reached the front of the ducal residence.
"Ah, sure. Go ahead."
"Then I'll see you tomorrow."
He bowed impeccably, then turned on his heel with perfectly measured strides.
Even his receding figure, thanks to those crisp steps, unmistakably evoked the duke.
"Do people who train with swords all end up with similar gaits by default?"
I tilted my head, then promptly cleared my thoughts of Ian.
"Anyway, how do I make this recruitment pitch?"
With Marchioness Embros now fully backing the Fabrons, a money offer probably wouldn't hold much appeal.
Besides, that fervor I'd seen in Baroness Fabron...
"She's the type who only works if she's hooked."
The world was full of all sorts.
Back when I slugged it out as an office drone in Korea, or even as Remeia's aide...
There were always those types around.
"People who only grind if it's fun."
Worlds apart from me, who loathed work and powered through on gritted teeth.
But those folks could get downright obsessive in their interests—and that's how they often struck gold.
"I saw that vibe in Baroness Fabron."
If anything, even while hacking up a lung from her rib injury, she'd unleashed a torrent of passion about her story ideas to me.
Thinking back on it, that kind of fire was the only way it could've happened.
"I'm just tweaking a story I already know, but honestly... shouldn't someone like Baroness Fabron be the real author?"
Even after seeing Ian off, I kept pacing the garden instead of heading inside the ducal residence, lost in thought.
"Princess."
A heavy shadow fell over my head.
Whish!
Startled, I looked up—and locked eyes with the duke's grim expression.
"Let's talk."
"D-Duke?"
But his face... for whatever reason, it was drenched in sweat, and he was panting hard.
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