* * *

The so-called “Jurgen Nil Everdeen Capture Operation.”

To capture that suspicious and meticulous man, there were two essential steps.

Jurgen was excessively generous and kind to children, but he was merciless to adults, especially those in power, whom he fundamentally distrusted.

He treated everyone in a strictly businesslike manner, as if there were an insurmountable wall between them.

If a deal was profitable, he might actively approach someone to gain favor, but when something appeared too good to be true, his suspicion only grew.

If Hernan simply wanted to see Jurgen trying to please him, he could do nothing. But if he wanted to win Jurgen’s heart, he had to be clever from that point on.

‘First, create a situation where Jurgen has no choice but to see you regularly for business.’

He set a trap that was like cheese too tempting for a mouse to resist, a bit risky but manageable if Jurgen handled it well, making it seem like he could gain something by taking a small risk.

When Jurgen fell into the trap, Hernan didn’t immediately pull the rope to lock him in but left an opening for Jurgen to think he could escape.

Then, he would create a situation where Jurgen had no choice but to sympathize with Hernan as a person, making Jurgen’s heart soften.

This was the method Berta had learned from experience to manipulate her brother, whose life had turned 180 degrees after gaining Jurgen’s sympathy.

The first step was to get Jurgen drunk.

A week before the operation, Berta secretly exchanged letters with Hernan without leaving any trace of communication, using a specially trained homing pigeon that could evade even the strictest surveillance.

Although Jurgen wasn’t a heavy drinker, he could handle alcohol better than the average person in the South.

Moreover, since most of the Everdeen family members got easily drunk with just a pre-dinner drink, Jurgen was considered one of the better drinkers in his family.

In other words, he had a certain pride in his drinking capacity, which by southern standards would make 50% of the population alcoholics, but by northern standards, just heavy drinkers.

Like a snake silently slipping over a wall, Hernan emptied the alcohol Jurgen had brought as a gift, and then, under the guise of reciprocating hospitality, offered him Northern spirits, which Jurgen wouldn’t refuse.

And when Jurgen was drunk, Hernan would subtly bring up the matter of dowry, leading Jurgen to demand a definitive answer.

When Jurgen wanted a clear answer, Hernan would propose a business condition that would ensure they met frequently due to a pact.

This was the first hurdle Hernan had to overcome to win Jurgen’s sympathy.

Making someone you’re infatuated with drunk might lead one to think of those adult-only scenarios that children shouldn’t see, but crossing that line would lead to a complete departure from any hope of winning Jurgen’s heart.

‘I believe anyone who takes advantage of someone who’s inebriated should have their hands cut off.’

Considering Jurgen’s usual philosophy, which led to especially harsh rulings on sexual crimes in territorial courts, this was a taboo that could never be crossed.

Anyway, after successfully binding Jurgen with a pact, Hernan had to clench his fists tightly as he looked down at Jurgen, who had fallen asleep, sprawled out on the carpet in someone else’s study.

The nonsense about how he absolutely had to marry Berta or that the original story said so didn’t even register in his ears. He didn’t even care what currency 500 won he was talking about.

There were plenty of people who spouted nonsense when drunk.

Just the fact that it was Jurgen doing so was enough for Hernan to agree with anything, even if Jurgen confessed to plotting treason against the empire.

“Mr. Everdeen.”

Hernan cradled Jurgen in his arms to move him to the bedroom, momentarily gazing at Jurgen’s flushed cheek as he softly breathed in his sleep.

Jurgen, completely unaware of being addressed, briefly twitched his eyelids before becoming still again.

As Hernan carried the solidly built Jurgen out of the study, a servant passing by was startled and hurried toward him, intending to relieve Hernan of the task. But Hernan quietly shook his head.

Leaving the servant behind with a lamp, Hernan carefully placed Jurgen on the bed in his room.

As the sheets crinkled with a rustling sound, Jurgen twisted his body, leaving his pale neck exposed defenselessly.

It was a scene too suggestive for an inexperienced young man, so Hernan, trying to calm his racing heart, cleared his throat and removed Jurgen’s glasses, placing them on the bedside table.

With his temples feeling relieved, Jurgen let out a faint moan and shifted again.

“Mr. Everdeen.”

Hernan called Jurgen’s name in a low voice again, but there was no response.

“You’ll have to pay dearly for using the heir to Velon as a porter.”

Hernan left these brief words, then carefully took Jurgen’s hand, lifting it close to his face.

For a southern man, Jurgen’s hands were large, with calluses at the spots where he had often held a quill, a sign of much paperwork over the years.

Hernan held Jurgen’s hand for a long time, then, almost unconsciously, kissed the back of it, before being startled and letting it fall onto the sheets.

But Jurgen just continued to breathe softly, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. Only Hernan blushed, gripping his own hand.

The price that was supposed to be paid had been more than settled, the scale tipped in Jurgen’s favor. Hernan, nearly fleeing from the room, accidentally kicked a decorative statue.

The loud thud in the night caused the servant to rush out in alarm, but Hernan, flustered, hurriedly blocked his way.

The servants, who spent the night quietly in their rooms as instructed by Hernan, found only a shattered statue on the carpet the next morning.

There were rumors and speculation among the servants about whether an assassin had sneaked in during the night, but no one knew the truth.

Only the young duke, who desperately tried to appear calm in front of the one he loved, knew the whole story.

---

The next morning, I woke up with a splitting headache, twisting my body in disgust at the feeling of nausea.

“Ugh….”

Barely managing to get up and cover my mouth, I noticed a wooden bucket neatly placed under the bed.

It didn’t take long to understand why it had been placed there. With blurry eyes, I buried my head in the bucket and emptied my stomach.

After hearing my retching, a servant came in with water and a towel. I quietly rinsed my mouth, washed my face, and wiped off the moisture.

Finally putting my glasses back on, my vision cleared, but nothing registered.

What nonsense did I say yesterday?

Other than the fact that I had spouted some ridiculous nonsense, I couldn’t remember a thing, as if it had been cut out of my mind.

What on earth did I say?

Quickly, remember!

I scolded myself as I racked my brain, and after some effort, the only thing that came to mind was… a flat silver coin.

‘500 won…?’

Why was I suddenly thinking about 500 won?

I had no clue.

Of all the many real coins in this world, why 500 won?

Even after pondering for a while, I couldn’t figure it out.

Nodding quietly when the servant suggested preparing a hangover remedy, I was left alone in the room, still unable to make sense of it.

I need to go see the duke again.

Whatever happened yesterday, drinking to the point of losing consciousness was a serious offense.

Why do I keep making things to apologize for after coming to apologize?

Before the servant returned, I quickly gave myself a light smack on the head and let out a long sigh.

“This is Velon-style eggnog.”

The small glass that the servant handed over had a strangely fishy yet sweet smell.

“I understand that in the southern regions, they use vanilla syrup. However, in the northern regions, honey is used instead of vanilla and reduced syrup. Please give it a try.”

Despite being somewhat apprehensive about the unfamiliar smell, the taste was not as unpleasant as expected.

It wasn’t exactly a delightful drink, but it wasn’t repulsive either.

After forcing myself to swallow the beverage, I sent the servant away to change into new clothes to meet Hernan.

As I took off my outer garment, which still smelled of alcohol, I was startled to find—

“…? What is this?”

A distinctive emblem of the oath was clearly etched on my left forearm.

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