“By making this… I mean, if we create and sell it, wouldn’t it improve the livelihoods of the residents of Rocksenhardt?”

Yvaine, who had been observing the White Forest, a barren and remote place with few visitors, had found many rare herbs there. Moreover, with plenty of green dandelions that seemed to stick to her feet, there were enough ingredients for the Cleaning Potion.

In addition to what Hille and she had researched, they added a few more herbs, and even these minor supporting herbs were abundant in the White Forest, if nowhere else.

Clad skimmed through the neatly written note with a subtle expression on his face.

With white paper added, the part rewritten on top of it seemed to be a patchwork, indicating that it wasn’t an ordinary task that required attention.

“Why are you giving this to me? Do you want me to give you some work and earn money?”

“No!”

“Then?”

“Why is that… Not at all! I just want to help…”

“So, why?”

Why?

Clad didn’t blame her, nor did he express anger.

Yvaine struggled to decipher what his low voice, full of questions, was trying to convey, trying to understand what answer he wanted.

‘Are you uncomfortable with the idea of giving me work to earn money?’ The expression seemed to suggest this. Was it because she didn’t want to spit out each word of the sentence ‘to give me work to earn money’? If you think about it, she knows that she is the one who assigns the work, and she doesn’t do such tasks herself?

‘It was the same before.’

When she asked why he wanted to endure pain and share a bed with her.

When she asked why he was working so hard to clean the West Mansion without being asked.

He asked those questions with the same face.

Even though her face always looked like she faced something boring and had a lazy expression, there was a persistent look as if she wanted some answer.

Yvaine felt her head bursting as she tried to guess what he wanted to hear by listening to his strangely inquiring and low voice.

‘Is it because it feels uncomfortable to ask me to do work that earns money?’ Is that why it feels uncomfortable? If you think about it, she knows that she is the one who assigns the work, and she doesn’t do such tasks herself?

Strangely, her mouth became dry. As if she had to swallow up that refreshing and sweet-looking thing in one gulp.

“I hope my lord becomes happy.”

“…”

“I would be happy if my lord becomes happy.”

“…”

“If that’s the reason, is it not enough?”

For some reason, an oppressive silence set in.

Whenever she was with him, it was always like this.

There were moments of comfortable silence, as if having everything just by being together, and moments of unexpectedly suffocating silence that made her wonder if there was a foolish idea attached to her heart.

After a long period of silence, Clad, who hadn’t answered, opened his mouth just before Yvaine’s heart burst.

“I said you can do anything.”

“Then…!”

“But the one responsible should be Hille, not you, or that little tree sprite.”

With those words, Clad stood up.

“Do you allow it?”

“Do I have to say it again? I said you can do anything.”

“As long as I don’t die?”
When Yvaine spoke cheerfully, Clad briefly wrinkled his face, then lightly tousled her hair. At that sudden gesture, Yvaine stood still, wondering what just happened.

Clad, who had quietly walked to the door, opened it and waited. “What are you doing?” she asked, creating a space for her to exit first. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Yvaine, feeling like walking on clouds, led Clad’s hand as they stepped outside. Finally, when the completely cleaned West Mansion revealed its presence in front of them, Clad stopped abruptly before reaching the entrance.

Letting go of his hand, Yvaine, who was about to open the fence door and enter, noticed that he hadn’t let go of her hand. With a curious look, she lowered her gaze to their still-joined hands and then looked up at him.

She admired the owner of this mansion, who had regained part of what was once called the Red Brick Mansion, quietly appreciating it.

Through the hands that she hadn’t let go of, the tingling and warm sensation repeated, flooding her as if it were a tidal wave.

One month later.

News flashed briefly in the newspaper that the , which had expanded to the capital through the upper level run by Viscount Leve, was gaining tremendous popularity in Yufreis.

A potion unheard of in that boring upper class, which maintained its dignity and only sold luxury items, had become a hit, and the rumor that it was sweeping up gold had inevitably flowed into the Feliesse Mansion, located at the edge of the capital.

Baron Garrett Feliesse was barely holding back his anger amid the consecutive news reports.

The Leve Upper, whose business operations were shaky, was achieving profits far beyond the Felts—although they were now disconnected from them. Until seeing the scale of the upper level of that Leve Viscount, which was comparable to theirs.