Late at night in Duke’s reception room.

“Miss Adel has fallen asleep.”

Hana, who finished the report, left the reception room.

In the reception room where he was left alone, the Duke slowly exhaled. The sharp tension that was standing began to subside little by little.

Just by the fact that Olivia Madeleine was in his mansion.

At the time when the sunset was flickering, he heard a report that Olivia had disappeared to the imperial palace.

Olivia disappeared alone in the strictly guarded imperial palace. The Duke felt everything before his eyes turn white.

With eyes rolling back, the Duke’s entire force searched for her. When they finally found her, Olivia looked up at them, her once sparkling light lost.

“Why are you here?”

Olivia’s face, tightly clutching the hem of her robe with a pale, drained face, flickered. As the trembling voice, as if holding back tears, resurfaced, the Duke’s red eyes darkened deeply.

He almost made her cry alone.

It was a dreadful thing to even think about. Gathering the swirling, dangerous air around him, the Duke picked up the oldest letter on the table and checked the signature.

Liv Green.

The corners of the Duke’s mouth rose elegantly. He recalled the day a year and a half ago when he first encountered this neat handwriting.

It was the time when he was conscripted into the war with Heferti by the Emperor, who used the white crystal mine as if it were a leash. From a certain day among the dull postal matters, a purple letter began to arrive.

The same sentence every time.

Stay unharmed. From Liv Green.

It was a letter from a sponsor sending relief supplies. When the letter went over five times, the Duke sent a formal thank you.

The sponsor’s letter also continued as a necessary requirement for relief, something the Duke realized only after he had sent a reply.

A letter came from the sponsor, who had been absent for a while. The sponsor’s letter had grown longer.

A tightly written letter expressing gratitude for the thanks. From that letter on, letters began to go back and forth with ‘Liv Green’.

The recipient of the strange letter, filled with worry and coldness, but also filled with affection.

About half a year when the letters went back and forth, the Duke referred to Liv Green as such.

Every time he saw the letter, his curiosity about this mysterious sponsor grew.

Unlike the nobles who sponsor amounts and advertise their names, an anonymous person sending the best relief supplies. The day after Liv Green’s relief supplies came, the always insufficient armor and rough cloth became abundant. Even things like blankets.

The anonymous sponsor who sent what was truly needed did not talk about his story lightly. Instead, glimpsing the story, all he could infer was that he seemed to be living a happy life.

Stories of praying with loved ones for the knights to return safely. Or stories of being upset because a younger sibling was sick. Stories like wishing for this happy moment to quickly return to the knights while dating a fiancé.

The sponsor always wrote this at the end of the last paragraph.

Wishing for your best to be fulfilled. From Liv Green.

It was a strange word. My best. Every time he read the letter, the Duke mulled over that strange word.

He had fought on battlefields to reclaim the white crystal mine that his mother cherished so much. He had done his best for his family, who had fallen to the ground after being plundered by the Emperor.

By that measure, his best should have been achieved to some extent.

Strangely enough, the emptiness was not filled. From then on, the Duke thought about ‘the best’ for quite a long time.

Then one day, he witnessed Jade Madeleine, the deputy commander of the royal knight brigade sent by the Emperor, angrily tearing up a letter. He was used to his hot temper, but his face looked strangely sad as it passed by after the anger.

It was not difficult to know who the sender of the torn letter was. The Madeleine Duke’s illegitimate child. HalfMadeleine. The crown prince’s fiancée. In the rumors circulating around the barracks, the stories about Olivia Madeleine were always negative.

Arrogant, shameless, coveting others’ things, woman.

He thought that was all. Until one day, two letters came from the sponsor.

Sending two letters at once. The Duke felt strangely happy when he realized that one of the letters had been delivered wrong.

One was from Lib Green to Sir Jage, a knight of the battlefield.

The other was a letter sent from Olivia Madelleine to Jade Madelleine.

With equally neat handwriting on luxurious paper.

When the identity of Lib Green, who had hidden his story so much, was revealed, the Duke was not happy. Rather, he was hurt.

Lib Green, who was happy even in passing daily life, was Olivia Madelleine. He would rather not have known Olivia’s rumor. The Duke was unnecessarily saddened by the fact that the situation of Lib Green he knew and the reality of Olivia were the opposite.