“Sister, are you okay?”

Cheshire hurriedly supported me.

This time, I didn’t push away his touch. I needed his help to move quickly.

“The carriage, no. Ride a horse. It’s better to go fast. No, let’s [dash] the trip altogether by advancing it with Bake.”

“Calm down. It’s not certain yet. In fact, when you think about it, it’s quite different from Merial…”

Looking at Cheshire, who didn’t know what to do, I seemed to understand why he hesitated to speak.

The probability of it being Merial was low.

Even though I clearly knew that, I exerted force in my hands. Recovering my senses from the throbbing pain, I strained my body.

“…But it could still be true.”

“Sister…”

I know. How fragile this hope is.

The body lying on the cold temple floor had gone through the verification process several times.

After completing all the tests that could be done from the age of consent, including Duke Byron, even the Emperor’s hands, only then could I admit that the charcoal-like lump was Merial. Now, denying that it was Merial was difficult.

Still, I waver. Even if it’s an unreasonable possibility, it doesn’t matter. If there’s only a straw of hope, I have no choice but to grasp it.

More than being Merial’s mother, always.

“What about Livianna?”

“She’s crossing the border now.”

“Faster than I thought.”

Bake’s lips curled up with dissatisfaction.

The newly imported wheels were of excellent performance, making Crayton’s carriage the fastest in the Empire, and Bake always highly appreciated that.

If he were to choose the most satisfying item among the many imported goods, he would choose the wheels every time.

For Lord Crayton, a fast carriage was a wonderful pride that provided satisfaction every time it smoothly passed high-nosed aristocrats.

But today, that excellence wasn’t sweet at all.

Despite trying to calm her down somehow, Livianna didn’t break her stubbornness and stubbornly got on the journey. Even now, his wife was getting further away in her own carriage.

“Continue to report. Tell me everything as a priority without missing any small details.”

“I will report it to you as soon as news arrives.”

“Don’t take your eyes off Duke Byron either. If you see any movement, report it immediately. If the two of them, no. No.”

Bake shook his head roughly and pressed his forehead as if it would make a loud sound. The sun was still in the middle of the sky, but he was thirsty.

Normally, nobles are those who cling to their lineage and eat without doing anything. The stories his father used to tell when he drank were not necessarily wrong.
Titles, names, and genders of characters have been translated accurately and consistently.

“Titles, family backgrounds, and laughter packaged as nobles might seem splendid at first glance. However, when you actually turn them inside out, they were not much different from ordinary people. In some aspects, they were even worse.

However, that did not apply to his wife.

Swearing by his honor, Bake had never seen a woman who perfectly fit the word ‘noble’ as much as Livianna did. She, and her family, were like that.

Those born with the name Crayton attached to them were all noble to the extent that it raised suspicions about the existence of a special lineage for nobles. It did not go along with denial.

But even as he mulled over that fact in his mind, Bake couldn’t bring himself to put on a dignified expression.

His wife was so angry that she left him alone. And the man eyeing her was none other than Duke Pieren, renowned for his persistence. There was no room for complacency.

In the end, Bake opened his mouth to say what he hadn’t said yet.

“Try your best to make sure those two don’t meet. Be careful not to let unnecessary thoughts arise.”

“Yes, understood.”

The loyal subordinate, Scepter, nodded without a word.

Bake glanced at Scepter’s face for no reason and then placed his clasped hands on his stomach.

“Livianna may not be that kind of person, but he isn’t, right?”

The unnecessary addition of words was because he didn’t want to admit the fact that he doubted his wife himself. Bake scrutinized Scepter’s face again and eventually couldn’t bear it, standing up to search through the drawer.

In the deep recesses of Bake’s drawer, untouched by Livianna’s hands, an item that she couldn’t have imagined was always kept in place.

Bake looked at the label, askew on the bottle, and chuckled briefly.

Even though he thought he should throw it away, when he was feeling low, he thought of the cheap rum. It was the liquor his father used to enjoy.

‘That damn father.’

His father, with the money earned from sea trade, became the owner of a giant upper-class estate. In his later years, he even bought titles from fallen nobles and rose to the ranks of nobility.

Nevertheless, his father was always a merchant at heart.

No matter how well-dressed or rich he became, he couldn’t give up the habit of drinking cheap rum and chewing on dry jerky. Afterward, sitting his son in front of him, he would express his dissatisfaction with the nobles.