Their conversation sent chills down Bialet’s spine.

The ‘little rat’ her father was referring to was herself.

Fabian, shocked, glanced towards the desk and then back at the Duke, saying,

“Why not inform the Guild Master and instead ask me?”

“If you put it that way, I would feel hurt. This isn’t a command, but a request.”

“Ha-ha, of course. A request, not a command. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The Duke, smiling at Fabian’s servile attitude, then spoke in a more subdued voice,

“I think it’s time to test whether that child can be fully trusted.”

‘My father is testing Geizen…?’

Bialet couldn’t understand what her father meant by testing the child he had been using all this while.

Her feelings were heavy and complicated, knowing there was still something to be tested in Geizen.

Soon their conversation ended, and the Duke left, mentioning he had backlogged work to do.

Returning after seeing off the Duke, Fabian sighed in relief upon seeing Bialet emerge from under the desk.

“Lady, are you alright?”

“Yes. What do you plan to do?”

“What do you mean…?”

“About the rat that my father personally asked you to find.”

“That doesn’t seem like something Lady should worry about…”

Then, looking at her as if seeking confirmation, Fabian intently gazed at Bialet.

In response, Bialet faced his gaze calmly without much reaction.

“Really, it’s too much.”

He took a deep breath and then exhaled, grumbling that the Ruschev family was adept at troubling him.

“I just want to know your intentions.”

“……I will remain ignorant of this matter.”

“Can you keep that promise?”

“Despite appearances, I am the Deputy Guild Master of an information guild.”

Proudly asserting his position, Fabian was emphasizing that he was a man of discretion.

Bialet, agreeing with this, nodded and said,

“Then I’ll trust you on this matter.”

Bialet, with her robe pulled deep over her head, cautiously checked her surroundings before leaving Bernard’s 34th Street office.

The underworld still reeked of foul odors, and the streets carried a filthy, dank atmosphere.

Bialet hurriedly headed to the place where her private carriage awaited.
As she roamed the streets, Bialet noticed a person giving silver coins to the nearly dying people. She couldn’t help but stare, wondering if it could be him. The man, too, was shrouded in a robe, obscuring his face from clear view. However, when she saw the pocket watch he pulled from his robe, Bialet’s heart sank.

‘Why are you still here?’

She wanted to approach Dension and ask if something was wrong, expressing her worry, but she dared not. Bialet knew she had to distance herself from him, her weakness, to protect him.

‘Otherwise, Sion, you’ll be in danger.’

As she tried to ignore him and move on, a gust of wind blew her robe aside, and her long hair fluttered lightly. Dension, seeing her, asked in disbelief,

“Lady Ruschev…?”

Realizing she had been caught, Bialet adjusted her hair, pulled her robe closer, and replied,

“It’s an honor to meet you, Lord Verdium.”

“Why is Lady Ruschev in the underworld? Do you know how dangerous this place is?”

Dension’s question carried a mix of worry and reproach. Bialet bit her lip slightly, knowing she had to push away his undue concern.

“I don’t think I need to explain to you why I’m here, Lord Verdium.”

Her indifferent expression and sharply toned voice made his blue eyes waver.

“……Is something troubling you?”

“I also don’t think I need to explain that to you.”

Though her words were precise, they felt like daggers piercing her own heart.

Unable to bear looking at Dension’s hurt face, Bialet turned away and tightly closed her eyes.

“Is it because I am Lord Verdium…? Is that why?”

Whether he was referring to something he knew or commenting on her family’s disfavor with the royal house, she couldn’t tell.

Bialet didn’t understand the meaning behind his words and chose to remain silent and distance herself from him.

It was the best choice she could make under the circumstances.