* * *

“We’re antique collectors, but we got trapped by the snowfall and couldn’t move. As soon as the snow cleared, we tried to travel but got stuck on this slope,” explained a voice.

“Ah, I see.”

Tens, having grasped the situation, knocked on the carriage door and opened it.

Ed could see that the narrow road was blocked by two carriages: one trying to descend and the other stuck crookedly in the mud, making it impossible for either to pass.

As Ed stepped out of the carriage, Ronen followed, jumping down and surveying the scene.

“The carriage wheel is stuck in the mud,” Ronen noted.

“Yes, it appears so, Young Master,” Ed replied.

Tens, recalling a similar situation when it rained on their way to the North, inspected the area and made a suggestion.

“We could use sturdy wooden planks under the wheels.”

“Wooden planks?”

The tall merchant, who had been standing at a loss in front of the carriage, turned to his servants and instructed them, “Get the wooden planks from the cart, the ones used to protect the paintings.”

The servants quickly retrieved the planks from the back of a supply wagon.

With Tens’ assistance and using a method the Grand Duke had taught, they managed to lift the carriage out of the mud.

The merchant was overjoyed.

“How could I ever repay this kindness?” he exclaimed.

“There’s no need. Just clear the road,” Tens replied.

“But I must repay you somehow! Do you have any interest in art or antiques?”

The merchant’s eyes flicked between Ronen and Ed’s attire, and he gestured to his servants.

They brought out several items from the supply wagon.

“I’m a merchant who supplies art and antiques to the imperial family. We just finished an exhibition in the East and are on our way back,” the merchant continued.

“Then you were headed to the Northern stronghold for trade?” Tens scratched his cheek, confused.

As far as he knew, there were no plans for art-related trade with the Northern stronghold this quarter.

“Ah, no, we took a wrong turn,” the merchant admitted hastily.

“I see,” Tens said with a nod.

The merchant opened the carriage door, revealing paintings and ceramics lined up inside.

“Everything I handle is either by renowned artists or precious antiques. If anything catches your eye, I’d be willing to sell it to you at half price—or just the cost of the packaging—as a token of gratitude.”

“Hmm,” Tens murmured.

He wasn’t interested, but Ronen’s eyes lit up at a painting of a small kitten playing with a ball of yarn.

“Ed, this one is adorable. How about we put it in the storeroom?” Ronen said, intrigued.

The merchant clapped his hands.

“You have an excellent eye! That piece is by Andrew, an emerging artist known for his heartwarming themes and detailed brushwork. He painted it as a child, and it’s a highly sought-after piece.”

Ed studied the painting Ronen pointed out.

The colors were warm and the brushstrokes meticulous, though there were smudged areas where the paint had been layered unevenly.

‘Scammers in the original story often pulled tricks like this with paintings.’

Unlike the present day, appraising art or antiques in this world was a complicated process.

It wasn’t uncommon for gallery employees to swap genuine pieces for fakes.

Ed’s thoughts lingered on the name Andrew.

‘Where have I heard that before…?’ And then it clicked.

Andrew was a character from the original story—a former slave who rose to become a celebrated painter, later getting into trouble for accidentally offending the emperor while painting his portrait.

Known for his fearless demeanor, Andrew famously replied “Yes” when asked by the emperor, “Do I look like a tyrant?”

‘He’s still just a budding artist now.’

Ed turned to the merchant.

“Isn’t Andrew the artist who was once a slave but gained recognition for his talent?”

“Ah, yes! You really know your art. The North is indeed known for its refined taste!” the merchant gushed.

“But I heard that during his youth, he had few opportunities to paint due to his hardships,” Ed pressed on, observing the merchant’s reaction.

“Well, precisely! That’s why his early works are so valuable,” the merchant replied, though he briefly faltered.

“Is this Andrew’s genuine signature, then?” Ed asked, pointing to the mark on the painting.

Andrew had initially used an alias, fearing punishment for painting as a slave.

The merchant hesitated, but before he could respond, one of his servants whispered urgently, “Master, that carriage crest… it belongs to…”

Ed signaled Tens with a glance.

Tens grinned and said, “It seems you’ll have to come with us to the Northern stronghold. You see, the person admiring your artwork is none other than the only heir of the Grand Duke.”

“…….”

“And since the Grand Duke’s heir is showing interest, we might need a thorough discussion, don’t you think?”

The merchant’s face paled as he tried to retreat, but Tens drove the point home.

“Of course, you could try running. But if the Grand Duke hears that his son was involved, it’ll take less than a few hours to find you. So why not save us all the trouble and come along?”

The merchant hung his head and quietly followed them to the stronghold, confessing everything to the Grand Duke before even being interrogated.

“I’m deeply sorry, Your Grace.”

“And what are you sorry for?”

“We’re a small merchant group that deals with lesser nobles. When we got trapped by the snowfall and faced unexpected expenses, greed got the better of us.”

“So, you targeted my brother?”

“N-no! We had no idea the young master was the Grand Duke’s heir. We were desperate and didn’t check the crest or your status before bothering our benefactors. Please forgive us.”

“Whether or not you knew he was my brother, you shouldn’t have tried to sell a fake painting,” the Grand Duke replied sternly.

“…….”

“If the art was good, the heir might have happily bought it without needing lies about royal connections or famous artists’ names.”

The Grand Duke, having imprisoned the scammers who couldn’t properly explain themselves, summoned Ed.

“Since Ed greatly helped capture these con artists who nearly deceived not only Ronen but also the townspeople for their own gain, I believe he deserves an appropriate reward.”

“Ah, no, Your Grace,” Ed replied.

The Grand Duke, recalling the incident as described by Tens, turned his gaze to Ed.

At that moment, the butler, standing beside the Duke, spoke.

“But Ed, how did you know they were suspicious?”

The butler, who had been looking down at the paintings left behind by the scammers in the audience chamber, shifted his gaze to Ed with a warm expression.

“…Well, when I worked at Count Herrins’ estate, I happened to see similar works by the same artist. That’s how I recognized them.”

“Impressive observation,” the butler said, nodding in approval.

The Grand Duke smiled and added, “Now, Ed, tell me without feeling pressured: what reward would you like?”

---

“Ed, look at this. Isn’t the cat adorable?” Ronen said, admiring a painting of a white cat hanging on the storage room wall.

It was a gift from the Grand Duke. Ed had received a similar painting, though his featured a yellow cat.

‘He gave it to me, saying it reminded him of me,’ Ed thought, often pondering this whenever he looked at the painting hanging in his room.

He couldn’t quite see the resemblance.

While Ronen brought his painting to the storage room and hung it there, Ed kept his own in his room.

Although he knew displaying the paintings together would look more harmonious, he somehow preferred keeping his in his personal space.

As he briefly drifted into thought, Ronen approached him.

Ed, noticing Ronen beside him, asked, “Which cat do you think is cuter, Young Master?”

“Hmm, I…” Ronen trailed off, grinning widely. “What about you, Ed?”

“I like both of them,” Ed replied.

“That’s such a typical answer,” Ronen said, wrinkling his nose with a laugh.

“But I feel the same way. Both the white and yellow ones are cute.”

At that moment, Jaynon’s voice called out.

“Ed.”

Ed turned toward the doorway to see Jaynon, his hands full of books.

Ed hurried over to share the load, and Jaynon gently patted his shoulder.

“Thanks, Ed.”

“Are all these books for the storage room shelves?”

“Yeah, I picked some that I thought Young Master Ronen would enjoy.”

Ed carried the books inside, and Jaynon spoke.

“I’ll handle organizing them. You should head up to the office; His Grace is asking for you.”

“His Grace?” Ed echoed.

“Yeah.”

Setting the books down on the sofa, Ed left the storage room, his steps unconsciously quickening in anticipation of whatever awaited him.

* * *