He raised his head without avoiding eye contact and bowed politely.

“Young Master.”

A bright smile spread across his face as he lifted his head again.

It was a smile full of vitality, completely different from mine.

One that would likely suit that wench well.

Only then did the wench’s head slowly turn towards me.

When those eyes found me, a deep tremor was instantly etched in them.

Ah. That trembling used to be quite enjoyable, but why does it feel so unpleasant today?

Now I think I understand why I’m still unsatisfied.

Since coming to this mansion, that child has been increasingly going against my wishes.

Constantly avoiding me, and being caught meeting with that silver-haired one.

Whether I heard reports or not, it’s nothing new.

My mood sours.

Seeing it in person feels quite different from hearing reports.

He raised his hand, stained purple like blood, dropped a petal, stepped on it, and walked forward with a sneer.

Those steps only halted in front of Yuriel.

More precisely, somewhere between Hael and Yuriel.

Cassian stared straight at the pale Yuriel.

Blocking her retreat so she couldn’t even avoid him.

“What brings Young Master here……”

Her trembling voice became as frail as her birth mother’s.

The vulnerable voice she never usually reveals further provoked Cassian’s mood.

“Do I need permission to walk around my own space?”

“I’m sorry.”

Always ‘I’m sorry,’ ‘Thank you.’ Or ‘Yes,’ ‘No.’

Her efforts are as desperate as they appear. Not knowing that such insolence drives me to the brink of madness.

Cassian turned his head and met eyes with the startled silver-haired one.

The stiffness with which he faced me without bowing his head betrayed a hint of stubbornness.

“I hear you’re managing the horse for this race.”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Is Leopold ready?”

Leopold was the third of several horses Cassian had brought here.

With its luxurious mane and unique sheen, that fellow would have been showered with love and entered in many competitions if it had gone elsewhere.

But at Blanchet, it had been languishing in the stable for quite some time.

Because fearsome creatures always running in first or second place guarded Cassian’s side.

So it was actually natural that Hael hadn’t prepared that horse.

With even a second-place backup existing, there was no room to spare attention for a third-place horse during this busy time.

“No. With race preparations in full swing……”

“Prepare that one.”

“You mean… now?”

Cassian nodded lightly.

Seeing the Young Master’s fresh smile, Hael reconsidered his judgment.

That this Young Master seemed to have a somewhat dangerous aura.

As Yuriel had once said.

The Young Master’s gaze towards her was also unusual.

An ominous premonition briefly flashed through Hael’s mind, but he forcibly shook it off.

‘It must be my imagination.’

Because that Young Master was from a world far removed from theirs.

Only after seeing Hael walk away did Cassian calmly return to his room.

Enjoying the wench’s bewildered gaze following him.

Back in his room, he raised a hand to summon the butler.

Surprised by his purple-stained hand, the butler had servants clean it off.

Amidst the commotion, the one who caused it remained nonchalant.

When the servants withdrew, Cassian finally lay down languidly.

Seeing this, the butler was about to rise and leave when he flicked a finger.

Cassian made a chilling remark to the butler who approached.

“Didn’t you say the Viscount Bilrode’s daughter was the same age as Yuriel?”

Viscount Bilrode’s daughter was Yuriel’s fake identity.

‘Surely you don’t intend to do something to Yuriel now? At this point?’

The butler couldn’t hide his trembling, since he himself had arranged it.

“……Yes, that’s correct.”

But the words from Cassian’s mouth completely diverged from the butler’s expectations.

“Don’t you think Hael and that child would make a good match?”

Hael and Viscount Bilrode’s daughter. A combination he’d never even considered.

They were people who actually had no particular connection.

After all, a wealthy commoner who oversees town events and the Bilrode family, noble despite being viscounts, attended different events and parties.

Yet those two people?

Moreover, how does the Young Master know about the Bilrode daughter he’s never even seen to say she’d be a good match for Hael? Why such words…

The butler’s mind raced.

‘Could he be planning to introduce Viscount Bilrode’s daughter to Hael?’

A wealthy commoner and the façade of a viscount’s family were indeed conditions that formed a fairly equal exchange in the marriage market.

Recently, Hael’s mother had been discreetly probing here and there regarding marriage matters.

It was a well-known fact to all that Yuriel, who often entered this room, and Hael were close.

But when does marriage ever go according to the wishes of those involved?

It was natural that a fatherless commoner girl wouldn’t satisfy his mother’s temperament.

Catherine, who likely found even rumors of her son with a lowly wench distasteful, was probably already making preparations.

Hael and Yuriel.

The butler concluded their ending was obvious without even seeing it.

In such a situation, the Viscount Bilrode’s daughter.

A match of this caliber would be unthinkable to seek in Alfonse.

It was clear that both Hael’s side and the Bilrode side would be overjoyed at this proposal.

Of course, the butler had no interest in such matters, but the thought of taking credit with them was somewhat gratifying.

“As it happens, I heard Hael’s mother has been meeting with matchmakers lately. I’m sure she’d be delighted with Viscount Bilrode’s daughter.”

Cassian raised a sardonic smile to his lips.

“See that this is sent to that household.”

What Cassian handed over was a blue envelope.

The Blanchet seal was prominently stamped on the luxurious paper.

The butler tilted his head briefly at the envelope that seemed to have been prepared in advance.

Come to think of it, for the Young Master of Blanchet to go to such lengths for mere commoners?

It was an utterly bewildering matter.

The butler was certain that the intention behind it was not pure.

However, this task he had been instructed to do would benefit both families and was something he could take credit for.

The butler received the envelope with a smile-laden demeanor.

“How truly thoughtful of you. To consider even such matters. Olga and Lady Catherine will be most pleased.”

As Cassian stared out the window with an indifferent expression at the list of names he cared nothing about, the embarrassed butler promptly disappeared outside.

Watching the butler’s retreating figure calling for the coachman at the front gate outside the window, Cassian caressed his lips.

As he always did when observing something interesting.

Perhaps the affectionate couple who had likely lingered and frolicked in that beautiful greenhouse in the garden would continue to walk ‘together’ on pleasant days thereafter.

If that were the case, he ought to let them go. Cleanly.

If they were that pitifully in love, he was inclined to acknowledge it.

Since he would die and disappear anyway, he might as well end it by bestowing charity in true Blanchet fashion, as they had always done.

To preserve that line on the tombstone saying Blanchet nobly bestowed grace until the moment of death.

It would suffice to pay the price of that dalliance by granting life to that child’s birth mother.

In truth, he who would crumble and vanish from this world wouldn’t see those two insignificant lovers meet their happy ending anyway, so it shouldn’t matter.

Of course, he had no intention of administering that medicine all at once.

Just a little at a time. Just enough to make that child wait anxiously and feel thirst.

They should feel at least as much as this peculiar thirst he was feeling.

Only then would they remember to mourn him.

Perhaps that would be enough to sort out all these filthy emotions and cast them to the ground.

Of course, this is all assuming that silver-haired goody-two-shoes chooses that wench again without fail.

And that wench invariably falls into the silver-haired one’s arms− It’s merely a hypothetical.

He imagines the accursed scene that might unfold.

His boundless imagination blooms damnably. As if writing a novel.

Yet that novel, though written by him, is not to his liking.

His mood twists like tangled threads.

Ignoring that ashen emotion of indiscernible nature, Cassian picked up a book.

The book by that author who has been struggling lately to completely change the plot according to his wishes.

This too, once completed, was intended to be read by that child.

Assuming it would be finished before he died, that is.

If not, it could simply be delivered to that child’s home.

A faint smile played on Cassian’s lips.

Amused at himself for having such imaginings.

Since when had he become so interested in the love games of mere commoner couples.

Anyone would think that child was his lover, given his behavior.

In truth, as the butler’s reaction upon leaving showed, it is right for Blanchet not to care about such ant-like beings.

That’s how it has always been, and how it should be.

But why does he…

In a moment, Cassian arbitrarily sorted out his own thoughts.

It was merely because it irked him.

He disliked their impudence in acting as if their love, fragile as shards of glass destined to shatter, would be eternal.

Of course, he knew that going this far was a departure from the proper course.

But what could he do?

He, and Blanchet as well, were not gentlemanly, as everyone knew.

This was just how they were made, damn it.

Cassian, who had been half-heartedly reading the text, put it down and closed his eyes tightly.

When his eyelids opened again, an image settled there.

It was the unfinished portrait of him that child had drawn.