“After the wedding, I plan to hand over my title of Marquis. So Miss Marien should take good care of the Redford family as its mistress.”

At most, I expected him to mention Marien’s commoner status.

But to be the mistress who manages not only the family affairs but also the employees and the mansion. If Logan had intended to demand that of her, he would have told her to quit the Imperial Guard.

As I expected, Logan stepped in to draw the line.

“Grandfather, let’s discuss that matter later with me.”

Bang, Marquis Redford struck the floor with his cane. He raised his voice as if scolding them for being so foolish.

“If you put a flower in a vase just to look at it, it will wither before long. You must transplant it to a sunny garden to enjoy it for a long time. Even then, you must carefully nurture it so that it takes root and adapts well. Tsk!”

In short, he was saying not to hide his wife away, but to let her live as the mistress in the main house.

Seeing Douglas Redford, the Marquis famous for his fiery temper and sharp tongue, speak so indirectly… He seemed to be quite mindful of his grandson’s feelings.

“While talking about being the mistress, you’re trying to get Marien and me to move in here, aren’t you?”

“Of course! For Miss Marien not to be in a predicament when you’re not around. She needs to learn etiquette here and become strong…”

“That’s unnecessary meddling.”

“Who are you to say that.”

The argument without a hint of compromise between grandfather and grandson led to a staring contest.

Their expressions and demeanor were grave as if the fate of the family was at stake. Without even asking for her opinion, the person in question.

Sidney pulled her hand away from Logan’s grasp. Naturally, the two men’s gazes turned to her in turn.

“As you say, Marquis, I’ll come here to prepare to become a fine mistress. If it’s alright to visit just once or twice a week.”

“You don’t want to move in and live here?”

“Even a mere flower has likes and dislikes. I too must stretch my legs where I want to lie down.”

She didn’t like flowers.

A life plucked without any will of its own to please someone. Whether a flower waiting to wither in a vase or one taking root in a new place, it couldn’t have wished for either.

Because it was no different from her own situation, living reluctantly without being able to do this or that. She didn’t like being compared to a flower.

Whether he sensed her feelings or not, Marquis Redford stared at her with sharp eyes for a while before speaking.

“It seems comparing Miss Marien to a flower wasn’t appropriate. Well, there’s no flower that voluntarily comes twice a week.”

At his grandfather’s ploy to emphasize ‘twice’ as if boasting, Logan bristled.

“She clearly said once or twice a week…”

Thump, Marquis Redford leaned on his cane and stood up. Thinking the conversation was over like this, she rose from her seat.

Marquis Redford was about to leave but turned back and said as if doing her a favor.

“That, go ahead with the investment company.”

“It has nothing to do with Marien.”

“A ship sails smoothly when the wind blows hard. It’s over when the money runs out.”

From the atmosphere, it seemed Marquis Redford meant he would invest in the investment company as much as Sidney herself did. But such a threat wouldn’t work.

Logan Redford raised his chin and sneered as if daring him to try.

“It’s my money anyway.”

Is arrogance also inherited? The confidence that no one but Logan himself could inherit, that he wouldn’t lose it to anyone.

The side profile of Douglas Redford, Marquis, as he looked at his grandson was frozen cold.

Is he displeased? Thinking that there’s no way he could be fond of a grandson who so blatantly reveals his greed, the corner of Marquis Redford’s mouth twitched upward.

Soon after, the Marquis turned around abruptly as if to hide his twisted smile.

“Damn brat! Have a meal before you go since you’re here.”

Tap, tap, with each strike of his cane on the floor, the old Marquis’s large frame shook. In sync with that, Logan slowly clenched and unclenched his fist repeatedly.

If you’re that concerned, you could just help him. How can they be so alike? Sidney glanced sideways at the two men and smirked.

The dining room was impressive with its high arched ceiling, white fireplace, and black wooden pillars placed at regular intervals along the walls.

Of course, not as much as the table set for three people to dine and the dishes prepared.

Sidney looked up while scooping up the stew.

Logan, who had been continuing his meal with an expressionless face, raised his eyebrows and asked why she was looking at him.

She smiled faintly and lowered her eyes as if it was nothing.

“Is the food not to your liking?”

Douglas Redford, the Marquis, asked with one eyebrow raised.

How embarrassing to suddenly receive the attention of both men who had been silent throughout the meal. Sidney Warden swallowed the stew in her mouth and.

“Personally, I like cumin soup.”

“Cumin has a strong aroma that many people find off-putting.”

“That’s true, but there are also many who enjoy its unique scent and bitter taste. And few people would dislike such an excellent cumin soup.”

“Certainly, few would. By the way, it’s quite inconvenient when a husband and wife don’t match in their taste in food…”

Marquis Douglas Redford trailed off, glancing sideways at Logan. As if to let her know that fellow dislikes it.

Was that so? There were no signs of him disliking the cumin soup. Sidney tilted her head with a look of surprise.

“I don’t particularly dislike it.”

“But you don’t like it either. Why didn’t you say anything all this time?”

“Hmm, just, it didn’t matter.”

Well, Logan Redford isn’t the type to force himself to endure something he dislikes, and there’s no need to.

Sidney ended the conversation with a faint smile.

Heavy silence fell again, but having exchanged a few words, she enjoyed the meal with a more relaxed mind.

Occasionally ignoring the gazes of Marquis Redford and Logan.

As the meal was coming to an end, Marquis Redford spoke up.

“By the way, how does Miss Marien know Duchess Owello?”

It’s natural for him to be curious about her. As a member of the family, taking in the woman who will marry his grandson and inherit the legacy, he would have investigated in his own way.

The fact that the first question is about Victoria Owello is a bit unexpected, but…

Sidney Warden put down her knife and fork and neatly folded her hands on her lap.

“She’s my benefactor and a dear friend.”

“Benefactor…”

Marquis Redford looked at her intently, drawing out the end of his words as if demanding an explanation.

She didn’t want to lie, given that they were becoming family one way or another. But she couldn’t tell the whole truth either.

Sidney opened her mouth, looking at Marquis Redford who was waiting for an answer.

“When I was young, I collapsed after being stung by a scorpion. Victoria and her brother, who were passing by, found me and treated me.”

“Justin Owello saved you?”

“Yes, thanks to his first aid and care.”

Logan Redford, who had asked with a surprised face, now wore a troubled expression.

She wanted to ask why, but held back as the servants came in with tea.

As she lifted the teacup and savored the aroma.

“Then, you must have acquired your noble demeanor while growing up with Duchess Owello.”

Could he be trying to figure out if she’s a noble? Sidney inwardly flinched at Marquis Redford’s words. She chose her words carefully.

“…We frequently visited each other.”

“If one could so easily acquire the dignity and majesty required of a noble… How would nobles and commoners be different?”

Having noble demeanor means not only learning etiquette and knowledge but also conducting oneself with dignity in all speech and actions. That’s not something that can be acquired in a short time or by mere observation, so it can’t be hidden no matter how much one tries.

“Grandfather, regarding that part, I…”

“There must be circumstances preventing you from revealing your status.”

Marquis Redford raised his hand and spoke as if making a conclusion.

The Marquis’s piercing gaze was already filled with certainty. After a moment’s pause, the Marquis turned his gaze to Logan.

“You’re confident you can handle it, I assume.”

“Of course.”

He must be worried. How could he not be about the circumstances of those who marry while hiding their noble status? Even she herself was deceiving imperial law and the Emperor.

Yet Marquis Redford only let out a resigned sigh and said nothing more.

After returning to Logan’s apartment at 12 Mayfield Avenue, she removed her makeup and changed into a shirt and pants.

Then, standing in front of the mirror, she fiddled with her earring artifact.

The blonde hair covering her shoulders turned red, blue eyes turned green, her facial lines sharpened, and her features became more distinct.

Having lived as Marien for just two days, yet this face feels unfamiliar.

Sidney, who had been quietly gazing into the mirror, shrugged her shoulders and gave a wry smile.

And as she turned around, she met eyes with the maid Jane. She spoke as she set down an envelope of documents and a teacup on the desk set up in one corner of the bedroom.

“These are the documents Mylo received from Lord Walter Asner, and chamomile tea to help you sleep.”

“Thank you.”

“If you need anything else…”

“You can rest now.”

“Yes.”

After Jane withdrew, Sidney sat at the desk and took out the documents from the envelope. A note that had fallen out read:

− Sidney, as you requested, these are records of cases reported to the police since December.

It was written in Walter Asner’s familiar handwriting. Sidney set the note aside and turned the first page.

Pickpocketing, dine and dash, neighborhood disputes, theft, assault, kidnapping, murder,… From minor conflicts to heinous crimes, they were organized in the order the cases were reported.

Sidney untied the string binding the documents and muttered in an irritated voice.

“First, categorize the cases as… simple disputes, misdemeanors, and felonies.”

And she classified the read documents according to the set criteria.

Her eyes would scan the document, then her right hand would move it to the side.

Sidney, who had been frantically organizing the documents, reached out and picked up the teacup.

The fragrant tea aroma spread to the tip of her nose as the warm tea moistened her mouth.

Whoo-woosh, the desolate sound of wind tapped on the terrace window, asking for attention.

When she turned her head while reading the documents, a black shadow was stretched out under the light shadow cast below the terrace window.

Who could it be? At this late hour, the one on the terrace… Sidney put down the teacup silently and picked up the sword leaning against the side of the desk.

While glaring at the terrace window, she slowly rose, and the shadow cast on the floor moved.