“Jarvis!”

Madam Erica entered Jarvis’s workshop.

“The Duchess of Genova has commissioned work from you!!”

Seeing the Madam’s beaming smile, Jarvis’s expression quickly turned sour.

Startled, Jarvis put down the leather he was holding.

Gulping, he glanced at the gloves he had just made.

“If it becomes known in high society that even the Duke of Genova wears our gloves, our salon will be a huge success! And your reputation, Jarvis, will spread even further!!”

“Yes… Well…”

Jarvis’s lips trembled, but upon meeting the Madam’s sparkling eyes, he resigned himself.

“Why? Too much work? You’ll be able to earn more money now without increasing your workload! Just make an outstanding piece for the Duke of Genova’s gloves.”

The Madam patted Jarvis’s shoulder in response to his ambiguous reaction.

Her eyes, directed at the empty space, seemed to be filled with floating dreams.

In contrast, Jarvis’s fingertips trembled with fear.

This matter would surely reach Count Scala’s ears, and it might become a life-or-death issue for him.

He recalled the first time he held Count Scala’s hand. That day when he learned a secret he shouldn’t have known.

As he removed the gloves he was wearing and began to take measurements, he noticed three faint dots on the back of his hand.

Being in the business of holding people’s hands, he naturally realized that those dots were not real moles.

They were forcibly injected dye. Like branding a slave.

Just as he wondered why such a thing was on Count Scala’s hand…

‘Jarvis.’

He looked up at the Count’s voice calling him.

The moment he met the Count’s eyes filled with madness, Jarvis could only freeze in place.

‘If you want to continue this work until the end, your lips must be extremely tight. In return, I’ll work with you for the rest of my life.’

Jarvis shuddered as he finished his recollection.

He was earning decent money. As long as he kept his mouth shut and worked in a corner for the rest of his life.

After all, he had a steady income from Count Scala. He didn’t want to threaten his life by becoming famous.

Moderately. Yes, make things moderately and avoid becoming famous.

“…vis! Jarvis!”

The Madam looked at Jarvis with surprised eyes.

Jarvis, suddenly coming to his senses, looked up at the Madam.

“What were you thinking about that you didn’t answer even when I called you right in front of you? Anyway, the Duchess is waiting now, so let’s show her a few samples.”

The Madam quickly picked up the gloves on Jarvis’s workbench.

Jarvis, startled, snatched the gloves from the Madam’s arms.

“No! Not these.”

The Madam’s eyes crinkled as she looked down at Jarvis.

“What’s wrong with you today? We need to show the gloves for the Duchess to consider continuing her relationship with us. I’m not taking the gloves you’re currently working on, so why are you acting like this? Really?”

“I’ll select them myself and bring them, so Madam, please go to the Duchess first.”

The Madam, almost pushed out of Jarvis’s workbench, was about to say something but closed her lips.

After all, Jarvis had to do the work.

“Alright. Select them quickly and bring them out. It’s not polite to keep a guest waiting.”

The Madam slammed the door shut as she left.

*

Eriel sipped her tea while listening to the Madam. The salon had nothing particularly unusual about it.

Especially with someone like the Madam, who was the type to openly display everything, there was no need to do anything special.

“It seems Jarvis is taking a bit longer because he’s carefully selecting pieces to show the Duchess of Genova.”

The Madam, patting a nearby employee with a smiling face, smiled at Eriel.

Eriel nodded with a gentle expression.

She would have to see Jarvis to know for sure, but this Jarvis person clearly had something about him.

It shouldn’t take this long just to bring out some work samples.

“I apologize for the delay. Thank you for waiting.”

A man carefully opened the door and entered, bowing his head. In his arms were two pairs of gloves, presumably the samples he brought.

Eriel put down her teacup on the table as she looked at the somewhat gaunt man.

“Are you Jarvis?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I see those two pairs are all the gloves you’ve brought.”

Eriel asked, pointing at the gloves in Jarvis’s arms.

At the same time, the Madam frowned upon confirming that Jarvis had brought only two pairs of gloves.

“…Jarvis? I thought there were more pieces. Why did you only bring two pairs?”

“Since the Duke of Genova has a striking face, there’s no need for his gloves to be flashy as well. So I brought simple designs. But as you know, customers don’t often look for simple designs, so we don’t have many samples.”

“Jarvis…”

Just as the Madam stood up with an angry face, Eriel spoke.

“That’s right.”

Eriel nodded.

“Damian’s face is striking, so there’s no need for his gloves to be flashy too. Even if the gloves were elaborate, they would be overshadowed by his face.”

As Eriel’s composed voice rang out, Lucy, who had been picking up fruit with a fork until just now, dropped it with a thud.

“Mother…”

“What an excellent insight, Jarvis.”

Eriel smiled brightly.

“Actually, my mother’s face is also…”

Lucy muttered softly, looking blankly at Eriel, but Eriel smiled as she put a piece of fruit in Lucy’s mouth.

The Madam, who had angrily stood up, turned her gaze from Jarvis to Eriel with a bewildered smile.

The Duchess’s gentle voice and the affectionate scene between mother and daughter didn’t seem to be reprimanding Jarvis’s actions at all.

It seemed like she genuinely thought that way, not just using noble speech, so the Madam quickly changed her stance.

“Indeed… It seems Jarvis gave it deep thought.”

“That’s right. I can certainly see why his reputation precedes him.”

As Eriel nodded with satisfaction, Jarvis flinched.

It seemed he hadn’t intended his words to lead to Eriel’s praise.

However, he put down the gloves as if he hadn’t cared about such things from the start.

“The first pair is black leather gloves. They reach the wrist and can be used most casually. Nobles often look for more elaborate styles than this, but personally, I think this style is not bad either.”

“The leather is well-worn, but the design is clean. Especially the finishing touches.”

Eriel nodded as she ran her eyes over the gloves. Jarvis’s gaze lingered on Eriel for a moment.

“The second pair of gloves…”

Jarvis, lowering his gaze, gulped.

Eriel smiled softly as she examined the second pair of gloves, even though Jarvis’s explanation had been cut off.

“Similar design, but much more elaborate than the first pair.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“I’ll go with the first pair.”

With Eriel’s voice, Jarvis slowly nodded.

“I take measurements personally. When servants take measurements, they’re not accurate, so I have to visit the mansion directly.”

“Very well. I’ll ask him to clear his schedule.”

As Eriel stood up with Lucy, the Madam and Jarvis quickly bowed.

“Thank you for visiting our atelier. We will repay you with a masterpiece.”

*

“Um… Your Grace.”

Charles, who had just returned this afternoon, called out to Damian with a stiff face.

Damian briefly shifted his gaze to Charles, as if asking why he was calling, then continued walking down the imperial palace corridor.

From early morning, Damian had sent a warning to Count Scala’s aide, and in the late afternoon, a noble council meeting awaited him at the imperial palace.

He intended to use this opportunity to observe their movements. Being lumped together as part of the Emperor’s faction made it difficult to distinguish who was on Count Scala’s side and who wasn’t.

Given what had happened in the morning, there should be some differences from usual, even if slight.

“Well… The Duchess has reportedly gone to the atelier that Count Scala frequently uses. The report just came in.”

Damian’s steps in the palace corridor came to a complete halt.

Turning sharply to the side, Damian’s eyes turned fierce.

“Eriel went to the atelier now?”

“…Yes.”

Charles swallowed hard and nodded as he answered.

Damian closed his eyes tightly and pressed his brow.

“She must have gotten the source of Count Scala’s atelier from Viscount Borghese.”

“It seems so.”

Along with Charles’s reply, Damian clenched his molars.

He had momentarily forgotten that his brother-in-law was a person at odds with the word ‘safety’.

He hadn’t expected such carelessness in this area, given how much he cherished Eriel.

Having already stirred up Count Scala’s side, if Eriel were to venture into enemy territory as well…

Pushing someone too far into a corner can often backfire.

There had never been a situation on the battlefield where he had to consider Eriel, so he hadn’t anticipated her range of actions.

This was entirely Damian’s misjudgment.

“Charles, you attend the meeting.”

“…Pardon?”

“I need to return to the mansion for now.”

“…Excuse me??”

Charles hurriedly blocked Damian, who was about to leave.

“Your Grace, if you’re worried about another attack from outside, like the rebellion or kidnapping, shouldn’t I be the one to go to the mansion?”

“If the other side has any brains, they won’t attempt such a thing again. But if such a situation does arise, I need to go, not you.”