At those calm words, the atmosphere in the dining hall instantly became cold and subdued.

Having effectively silenced everyone, Demian continued his meal nonchalantly. In contrast, the Duke’s face slowly reddened.

No matter how you looked at it, his son’s remarks were aimed at him. He was the only one here who had raised a child from a woman other than his wife.

The Duchess, who corresponded to that other woman, also blushed. Her hand holding the knife trembled slightly with anger and shame.

“Demian Vandermir, you brat! How dare you speak to your elders like that!”

The Grand Duchess rebuked Demian in an angry voice. There was no way a child daring to criticize his parents could look pretty in her eyes.

As she always identified her son with herself, she felt even more furious, feeling as if she had been attacked as well.

“What’s the matter? I just said there’s no need to worry.”

Demian calmly retorted. Then he added with a smirk.

“Or is there something that’s pricking your conscience?”

“Demian!”

Unable to bear it any longer, the Duke stood up, slamming his chair back. Demian shrugged as if to ask why he was calling him.

“You’ll collapse at this rate, Father. Since the whole family is gathered for once, shouldn’t you sit for a long time?”

Demian said, looking straight at his father’s face, which had turned bright red as if steam was coming out of his head.

While the Duke’s family all looked ready to faint one by one, gripping the backs of their necks, Demian nonchalantly looked at Arasila and took care of her attentively.

“My lady, why aren’t you eating? Didn’t you say before that you like meat?”

“Ah…”

“Perhaps it’s not to your taste? Then I’ll have the chef change it. You need to eat meat to feel full.”

Arasila, who had been blank for a moment, shook her head. And she put another piece of tender, flavorfully sauced meat in her mouth to taste.

She wasn’t shocked by Demian’s impoliteness to his family. She was just a little surprised that Demian remembered what she had said when she met Frederick at Vesta Restaurant before.

‘I prefer meat. Did you forget?’

‘…’

‘You need to eat meat to feel full.’

She had thought he would have forgotten it naturally, especially since it wasn’t even said to Demian, but to Frederick.

Although it was a trivial point, Arasila’s lips twitched slightly, feeling secretly pleased that Demian had remembered it.

Regardless of whether the Duke’s family ate or stared with dumbfounded expressions, the two of them finished their meal refreshingly.

“My lady, let’s talk for a moment!”

Oscar, who had rushed out of the dining hall with urgent steps, caught Arasila as she was climbing the stairs.

Demian frowned as he looked down at him. Arasila also looked at Oscar with a not-so-welcoming expression.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Well… Follow me, it’s not something to discuss here.”

Oscar, who kept glancing uncomfortably at Demian standing beside Arasila, jerked his chin.

At that, Demian stepped forward, stretching out his arm to block the space between him and Arasila.

“Just say it here, elder brother.”

“Don’t interfere, Demian. I want to talk to the lady.”

“Why do you want to talk alone with another man’s wife? Unless you’re a beast who drools over any woman without discernment.”

“What? You little—!”

Oscar flared up and struck Demian’s shoulder. But Demian didn’t budge at all. With an expression that suggested it didn’t even tickle, Oscar’s pride was severely hurt.

For a moment, he was reminded of being easily subdued by that bookish-looking man by Iris’s side, which made it even worse.

“I have no intention of talking to the young master alone either, so as Demian said, say it here. Or I’ll just leave.”

Arasila said, showing her face over Demian’s shoulder. She wasn’t crazy enough to follow Oscar out to talk alone.

At this, Oscar had no choice but to state his business to Arasila in front of Demian.

He cleared his throat briefly before asking the question he had been holding back.

“By any chance, is Lady Hugo’s love life complicated?”

“Me?”

“No, I mean your elder sister.”

Arasila’s face immediately crumpled before she could manage her expression.

Her mood turned foul as Iris was mentioned from Oscar’s mouth again. This could only be described as truly disgusting.

How dare this shameless bastard ask such a question. When his own love life is complicated.

Arasila, overcome with anger, was about to warn him to watch his words when she hesitated. Oscar’s appearance, anxiously waiting for her answer, was unusual.

‘This guy, he couldn’t possibly be interested in my sister, could he…?’

With a creeping sense of unease, Arasila responded coldly.

“What does that have to do with you?”

“I’m worried as a potential in-law. The other day, I happened to see Lady Hugo having a secret meeting alone with an unfamiliar man…”

“Don’t concern yourself with my sister’s private life. She’s so popular that it wouldn’t be strange for her to date anyone.”

In fact, considering Iris’s modest personality, it was quite surprising, but Arasila deliberately said so.

It was to prevent Oscar from looking down on Iris as naive, if possible.

Men like him tend to find women with dating experience more difficult than those without.

Leaving Oscar speechless with a shocked expression, Arasila went up to Demian’s room with him.

They were originally on their way to Demian’s room to have a brief conversation anyway.

‘That crazy bastard, he’s really annoying.’

Arasila, who had been busy inwardly cursing Oscar, stepped through the door. And she paused at the scene that unfolded before her eyes.

‘Is this really the young master’s room of the Duke’s family…?’

His room was more desolate than the guest room where Arasila was staying. Despite not being very spacious, it exuded an empty atmosphere with only minimal furniture placed.

It was like a room resembling mid-winter.

Beyond the feeling that it hadn’t been used by anyone for a long time, there was even a sense that no one had ever lived in this room with any attachment.

In other words, there was no trace of the wear and affection that should naturally be present.

“…Have you been using this room since you were young?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Demian calmly affirmed. He didn’t seem to feel anything strange about it at all.

Suddenly, Arasila remembered him saying on the way that he had no good memories of the Duke’s territory. She felt she could vaguely understand why the room gave off such a lonely feeling.

Judging it better not to say anything unnecessary, Arasila changed the subject.

“Oh, by the way. Demian, there’s a locked room on the third floor, do you know what kind of room it is? The doorknob was made of gold.”

“It’s my mother’s room.”

At the plain answer, Arasila blinked. There was only one person he would call mother here. She was surprised that Demian’s birth mother was suddenly mentioned.

“It’s been locked since she passed away in that room.”

“Ah…”

“The Duchess has had the key for a while now, so I haven’t been able to enter either.”

Arasila frowned at those words.

If someone should manage the key, it should be the biological son, so why does the Duchess have it, preventing him from freely entering and leaving?

“Why does the Duchess have it?”

“Because she’s the mistress of this mansion. I haven’t been able to get it back because I lack a good reason.”

Thinking it was too unreasonable no matter what, the wrinkles between Arasila’s brows deepened.

Then suddenly, this thought occurred to her.

‘Should I try to sneak the key away?’

It might not be impossible if she could bribe a maid well enough.

It wasn’t just because she wanted to help Demian find his mother’s room. She also suspected that a will might be hidden there.

“Would it be alright if I got the key and entered your mother’s room?”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, but don’t do anything unnecessarily dangerous.”

“Don’t worry. Who do you think I am?”

Her brightly smiling face looked both reassuring and untrustworthy, making Demian’s expression complex.

Unlike in the capital, this place was the Duke family’s domain, so she had to be more careful. In fact, he had been attacked by assassins even in this room.

But knowing Arasila wouldn’t sit still just because he stopped her, Demian said after some deliberation:

“If you need to use someone discreetly, use Colin. He’s my aide, so you can trust and rely on him.”

It was better to assign someone he could trust rather than let her work alone.

Arasila also brightened at Demian’s words and nodded. It was fortunate since it would be difficult to find people separately here in the Duke’s territory.

“It’s getting late, so I think I should return to my room now.”

Arasila started tidying up, preparing to leave. Demian also got up to follow, saying:

“I’ll escort you back.”

“Are you joking? It’s just the floor above.”

“I’m serious, so shall we go?”

Demian held out his arm for escort. Arasila was a bit dumbfounded, but seeing that he had no intention of backing down, she eventually accepted.

They climbed just one flight of stairs and arrived in front of Arasila’s room. Feeling awkward about sending Demian back like this, she suggested:

“Well… Do you want to take a look at my room before you go?”

Demian hesitated for a moment.

Even though it would just be showing him a guest room anyway, he felt strangely about it for no reason.

And Arasila felt the same way. Even though it wasn’t really her own room she was showing, she felt a little nervous.

Amidst the strange silence, Demian slowly opened his mouth.

“It’s alright. I had Colin check the safety of the room while we were having dinner. He said there were no problems, so you can sleep at ease.”

“Yes… What?”

Wait, when did he have time to check such a thing?

Unlike the dumbfounded Arasila, Demian bowed his head and left without lingering.

Watching his retreating back, Arasila muttered softly.

“Come on, he could have at least come in for a moment…”

The maids of the Duke’s mansion revealed their true colors from the next day.

They served Arasila with an attitude just ambiguous enough to be difficult to point out as disrespectful.

For instance, they would come only after being called three or four times, or they would understand orders only after repeated instructions, or they would put things down carelessly.

Yet their tone was gentle, and they didn’t refuse Arasila’s words, making it awkward to scold them. It was cunningly done so that if mishandled, only the person who reprimanded would appear oversensitive.

‘The Duchess has used her head well.’

After all, if the maids openly defied Arasila, it would only provide her with an opportunity to properly establish discipline.

Instead, it was better to irritate the other party like this, striking and retreating appropriately. Making them gradually uncomfortable until they even start to wonder, ‘Am I being paranoid?’

Moreover, at some point, they started calling her ‘Lady Arasila’ instead of ‘Young Madam’.

As if to remind her that she was an outsider in this household, not family.

Of course, Arasila was a person who preferred being an outsider, so she didn’t think much of it, but occasionally she pointed out the form of address.

Then they would act surprised, making excuses like it’s still unfamiliar, or it’s their first time seeing Arasila, and they would correct themselves. But not for long.

“Lady Arasila, this is from the Madam.”

Today again, another maid made a mistake with the form of address, but Arasila was tired of repeatedly pointing it out and silently accepted the paper she handed over.

It was an invitation from the Duchess to attend a tea party being held in the afternoon.

‘I wonder what she’s plotting to call me this time.’

Although not particularly curious, Arasila prepared to attend the tea party, knowing that if she didn’t go, it would surely be used against her.

Having finished dressing in time, Arasila went out to the pergola in the east garden where the tea party was to be held.

There, surrounded by the Duchess occupying the seat of honor, were noble ladies in splendid attire sitting closely together.

“Hello, I’m Arasila Vandermir.”

As she approached and greeted them, the noble ladies glanced at her. But no one returned her greeting.

Even the Duchess, who had seen Arasila, didn’t acknowledge her. It was quite a brazen attitude considering she was the one who had invited her.

‘It seems I’ve become an uninvited guest who came without reading the atmosphere.’

However, as it would be unseemly to just turn back now, Arasila approached the empty seat after some hesitation. Seeing that only one seat was left, it seemed to be meant for her at least.

It was then that a small laugh was heard.

“Pfft, I guess a child is still a child. Look at her, unable to even match the dress code.”

At those words, Arasila carefully examined the noble ladies.

They all seemed to be holding fans and wearing dresses with yellow patterns. That must have been the dress code.

Of course, Arasila, who had never been informed about this, was wearing a navy blue dress with bare hands.

It was a typical method of social bullying, deliberately not informing about the dress code to embarrass someone.

However, Arasila didn’t show much agitation.

There was no sign of embarrassment or shame. Rather, she calmly and gently spoke to the lady who had made the remark.

“Thank you for understanding my situation, madam. I received the notice on short notice, so my preparation was inadequate.”

Startled by the unexpected response, the noble lady flinched. Knowing that it was the Duchess who had given the short notice, she couldn’t add anything more.

As she pressed her lips tightly, Arasila also sat down with a bright smile.

Even then, the Duchess maintained her haughty pose, chin lifted high, not sparing a glance for Arasila.

Arasila deliberately addressed her.

“I apologize, Duchess Vandermir. You kindly invited me, yet I came without matching the dress code. In the future, I’ll instruct the maid to inquire properly.”

The Duchess’s eyebrows twitched at the indirect expression of ‘You invited me but didn’t inform me.’

Her lips, hidden behind the fan, also twitched, displeased by Arasila who spoke her mind even in such situations.

Thus began the uncomfortable tea party.