“I should have brought an umbrella.”

An unseasonable rain was falling outside the window. In Estan, the capital of the Hilard Empire, winter occasionally brought floods with its intermittent rains.

That’s why umbrellas were one of the essentials for gentlemen in winter.

“If you don’t have one, I can prepare one for you separately.”

“No need.”

Aden casually dismissed Kedilen’s polite offer and picked up his teacup.

“Such things are for the empire’s nobles who like to put on airs. It doesn’t suit someone like me. Besides.”

Aden paused, slightly frowning as if the overly sweet tea was not to his liking.

Staring down at the reddish tea, Aden gently set the cup on the coaster with a small sigh.

Crossing his legs, he reached for a cigarette from the box on the table instead of drinking the tea.

“Why did you bring me here, Marquis?”

“There’s no special reason. I was just glad to see you, Your Grace, and wanted to have tea together.”

“Glad, you say.”

Aden lightly bit the cigarette between his teeth, his mouth full of derision.

“We’re not exactly on friendly terms, are we? Much less the type to sit and have tea together.”

Even setting aside Ludmila’s presence between them, the relationship between Habertz and the Erdi Marquis family, at the forefront of the new nobility, was an unpleasant one.

The reason, simply put, was the issue of Habertz’s origins.

In fact, if you thought about it, Habertz was also a new family and part of the new nobility.

With a history of less than 50 years, the old nobility lumped Habertz in with the new nobility.

Because of this, the new noble families, including the Erdi Marquis family, were always mocked along with Habertz’s affairs. To them, Habertz was a thorn in their side.

In reality, Aden, the head of Habertz, seemed to care little about how they viewed him.

“Even if we’re not on friendly terms, I don’t think it’s bad to share time over a cup of tea.”

“Pointless talk.”

Aden twisted the corner of his mouth slightly, breaking the cigarette in his hand instead of lighting it. Tobacco spilled from the broken stick, littering the table.

“By the way, I heard you didn’t attend the budget review. May I ask why?”

It was then that this messy question, as messy as the scattered tobacco, popped out. It wasn’t very noble-like to bring up a weakness first.

It was a vulgar act that clearly divided their ranks. Kedilen flaunted his position as Minister of Commerce, who could solve Habertz’s financial struggles.

“Is there a reason? I just thought there was no point in waiting for something with a predetermined outcome.”

Unlike before, Aden’s calm demeanor made Kedilen’s eyes narrow.

Habertz’s greatest weakness was not their bloodline but their financial power. The accumulating debt each year was no longer at a manageable level.

That’s why, despite his hatred for the imperial family, Aden had come in person to bow his head and request a budget review.

Such a man suddenly left without even attending the review.

The reason was unknown, leading to various speculations, but one thing was clear: Habertz’s attitude had changed.

“If there was any problem or inconvenience, I apologize. If you say so, I can arrange for the budget review to be conducted again.”

“Not necessary.”

“Pardon?”

“I told you, didn’t I? The result is already decided, so there’s no point in waiting.”

Aden’s crooked smile and cold eyes swept over Kedilen.

“Every year, you summon people, hurl all sorts of insults and contempt, and then all you have to say is that a budget increase is impossible. Then, pretending to be generous, you lend just enough money to barely breathe, increasing the debt of the territory and family.”

“I apologize for that. The budget is fixed, and sometimes it’s unavoidable when using it within that framework. So…”

“How curious. That these unavoidable situations apply only to Habertz every year. Isn’t it surprising?”

“…”

Seeing Kedilen close his mouth tightly, Aden let out a chuckle and tossed the crumpled cigarette onto the table.

Kedilen’s brow furrowed slightly at the scattered debris. The sight of cigarette ash in his office in the imperial palace was not particularly welcome.

“More importantly, isn’t it not the time to worry about me, Marquis?”

Kedilen’s gaze, which had been fixed on the cigarette ash, shot up vertically. Aden stared intently at Kedilen, pushing up the corner of his mouth.

“I heard the news. Your esteemed wife has disappeared.”

“She hasn’t disappeared, she’s currently recuperating due to illness. You must have seen an article produced by a magazine that likes sensational stories.”

“Ah, recuperating.”

Aden muttered the word softly and burst into a laugh.

The sound of air escaping his mouth twisted Kedilen’s eyes.

The sneering smile, as if he knew everything, grated on his nerves.

Aden gazed steadily at the man’s distorted face, as if appreciating it, rolling his eyes before leaning back in his chair.

“Well, I understand. The Marchioness is quite frail. You must be worried sick. You’ll be relieved when the Marchioness returns soon. Hang in there.”

“Thank you for your encouragement.”

“Thanks…”

With a short murmur, Aden wiped the expression from his face and stood up. Kedilen also rose to his feet.

“Well then, I have business to attend to, so I’ll be going now. Take care.”

Aden lightly patted Kedilen’s shoulder and walked past him towards the door.

Recalling the man’s words, innocently making excuses as if he knew nothing, Aden reached for the doorknob.

At that moment, with a clunk, the door opened.

Aden looked up at the door that opened before he could grab the handle.

The man entering just then was Marquis Ferington, Kedilen’s aide.

“Ah, I’m sorry.”

Realizing he was blocking the way, Marquis Ferington stepped aside.

Aden glanced at him from the corner of his eye as he bowed his head, then passed through the open door. And just then, his brow furrowed at the pungent scent that brushed his nose.

“Your Excellency. There’s an urgent matter I need to report. That…”

Aden, who had stepped outside, quickly turned around. Through the closing door, he saw Marquis Ferington reporting something to Kedilen.

An ordinary aide, nothing special. But the pungent scent emanating from his body was certainly very familiar to Aden.

‘…Opium poppy.’

It was the scent of a narcotic painkiller, opium.

“How are you feeling?”

Beressa, who visited in the evening, immediately inquired about her condition as soon as she sat down.

Ludmila, who had been following the doctor’s advice to rest for a day despite not having any major issues, answered with a gentle smile.

Beressa sighed in relief and handed her the chocolate she had brought.

“Do you like sweets? I heard you skipped dinner, so I brought this.”

Although she didn’t particularly like sweets, Ludmila politely expressed her gratitude and accepted it, knowing Beressa had thoughtfully brought it.

As she bit into it, the spreading sweetness was unexpectedly satisfying, unlike usual, and a genuine smile appeared on her face.

“It’s delicious. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. By the way, why don’t you get a thorough checkup? Like when you caught a cold before, and now this. Aren’t you too frail? Your arms are too thin, and you’re excessively delicate. Even as a woman myself, I think this is too much.”

It couldn’t be helped. Kedilen always wanted a perfect woman who could be the idol of noble ladies.

In the abnormal social world, the thinner a woman was, the smaller her dress size, the higher her evaluation as a noble lady.

To meet their demands, Ludmila had to reduce her eating as well. One of the harshest punishments Kedilen imposed on her was fasting.

“This won’t do. From tomorrow, exercise with me. Eat properly and eat more at mealtimes.”

“Thank you for your concern. But I don’t want to be a burden…”

“It’s not a burden. This is an extension of our partnership. Four months… no, just over three months left now, do you think you can cross the frozen land in that condition? Even if you make it across safely, you’ll be lucky not to die on the street without a place to live.”

Beressa put strength into her eyes and held up her fingers.

“The Kahn people are experts at horseback riding. Starting tomorrow, after breakfast, we should ride horses together every day. You’re a noble, so you must know how to ride a horse, right?”

“I do know that. But Beressa, this is…”

“I won’t accept any objections. You want to live, don’t you?”

Beressa cut her off cruelly, narrowing her eyes. Looking at Ludmila, who had closed her mouth tightly, Beressa tilted her chin.

“If you want to live, you need to exercise. You need to be healthier than you are now, even if just a little. Let me help you. I… don’t want to see someone collapse in front of me again.”

“Beressa…?”

Ludmila’s eyes widened at the sight of her frowning and biting her lip tightly.

Beressa sighed, shaking her head slightly, then smiled brightly.

“No, it’s nothing. Anyway, rest a bit more. I’ll be going now. It’ll be annoying if I stay too long, so I should leave.”

Despite Ludmila’s insistence that it was fine, Beressa stood up and approached the door.

As Ludmila was about to get out of bed, Beressa gestured to her and hurriedly opened the door, letting out an “Ah!” exclamation.

Turning her head to Ludmila, who was just about to get up, Beressa spoke briefly.

“Did you tell Aden about your condition?”

“My condition…?”

“I didn’t try to find out specifically… but the doctor explained. The last time you caught a cold, Aden told the doctor to mix an antidote with the cold medicine when prescribing.”

Ludmila’s eyes shook violently at this unexpected information.

“If there’s anything else I should know in advance, tell me. I’m your guardian until Aden returns. If you need anything, just say so right away. I’ll take care of it.”

“…”

“Well then, rest.”

Beressa left the room with a smile.

In the silence that followed the closing of the door, Ludmila’s eyes trembled slightly.

“Antidote…?”

Her voice, flowing out slowly, filled the quiet room with deep confusion.