* * *

“Surely, you must have plenty to say, yet you seem to have an abundance of time?”

I tossed the signed document I’d been reviewing onto the side of the desk with a snide comment.

Hernan, shuffling hesitantly, finally stepped closer.

“Why… why are you here…?”

Why else?

The irony of how drastically the situation had flipped from when I first set foot in this estate almost made me laugh.

Crossing my legs, I replied casually.

“What do you think?”

Suppressing the anger bubbling up from deep within, I picked up another stack of documents.

Ever since Hernan had made his presence known at the Garnet Palace, news of the Paradise Velon branch’s construction had spread like wildfire among the wealthy elite of the capital.

Every opportunist was scrambling to get a piece of the action, flooding us with proposals like the one in my hands, offering discounts on construction materials in exchange for involvement in the project.

“…….”

When Hernan remained silent, lips pressed firmly together, my patience wore thin. I spoke bluntly.

“I told you there was a lot to discuss. Did you think avoiding me would solve everything?”

It seemed he’d believed that staying out of my sight, as he had before the imperial palace trip, would suffice.

But now, with no reason left for me to avoid him, I had no qualms about invading his study.

I wasn’t about to feel embarrassed over something so trivial.

“I’m sorry.”

Hernan finally apologized, but it was far too late.

I gestured to the chair across from me, indicating he should sit.

Near the door, Anton shifted uncomfortably, clearly trying to avoid drawing attention to himself.

“Ah. Sir Konus, you may leave. There’s no need for a guard.”

The moment I granted permission, Anton bowed deeply and exited without hesitation.

He was a sycophant, sure, but at least he knew whose favor mattered in this situation, which worked to my advantage.

“Now, shall we have a proper talk?”

Lowering the document I’d been holding, I fixed Hernan with a sharp gaze. If he had nothing to say, then I had plenty.

“First of all, I have no intention of marrying you.”

I started with the most critical point.

Hernan flinched, casting a glance my way before quickly lowering his head again.

That was all. Pathetic.

Was this really the same man who used to spout polished arguments, effortlessly persuading and threatening me in turn?

I squinted at him, folding my arms across my chest.

“Is that all you have to say?”

I expected him to argue—perhaps cite the clauses of our pact about assisting with his lineage or offer a compelling rebuttal.

Instead, Hernan sat silently, head bowed.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally murmured something under his breath.

“…You must be tired of me. It’s all my fault.”

“…….”

It wasn’t an excuse but a full-on admission of guilt, as if he were groveling. But that wasn’t what I wanted to hear.

“No, I didn’t come here for an apology. I want you to explain what’s going on. Why are you bringing up this nonsense about me being tired of you?”

At that, Hernan lifted his gaze, his tear-filled eyes meeting mine.

With a shaky voice, he asked, as if he couldn’t believe it:

“…Aren’t you tired of me?”

I snapped back sharply.

“The thing that’s tiring me out is this dragged-out situation. Don’t you think I deserve to know what’s going on here?”

I don’t trust people. It might seem ironic, given that the whole mess started with my stepbrother stabbing me in the back, but it’s true.

Who could have predicted that the female lead and male lead, supposedly destined for each other, would suddenly bolt?

Sure, some of the details deviated, but I never doubted the original plot would stay largely intact.

If I hadn’t known the original story, I wouldn’t have been so hasty to pay off the debt in cash that day, even though it wasn’t urgent.

Trust requires certainty—the belief that this person won’t drive a knife into your back.

Saving me from a life-threatening situation merely planted a sliver of ambiguous doubt—maybe I can trust him.

That doubt was far from transforming into conviction.

So now, it was Hernan’s turn to persuade me, honestly and without deceit.

“To make me trust you, Your Grace.”

Back when I was about to scrap a clause in our pact because the business terms seemed too suspicious, Hernan managed to convince me without resorting to threats.

Sure, his appeal stemmed from pity, but it worked.

Pleas like “You must do this” or “We slept together, so take responsibility for my honor” held no weight with me.

After a brief silence, Hernan raised his head and began a long story.

It was a tale that stretched back centuries—an old, tangled history.

“So, you’re saying three families are vying for the position of Yudanet’s successor?”

Hernan flinched at my abrupt, near-treasonous conclusion but quickly responded.

“It’s too early to say it’s at that stage.

Although, ultimately, that may be the goal.”

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

“It’s just a matter of time. If Yudanet collapses due to the lack of an heir and those three families carve up Velon between them, the ultimate aim will still be for one family to swallow the unified kingdom under imperial rule.”

Hernan bit his lip, unable to refute the harsh truth.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess.”

“No, there’s no need to apologize. If anything, I stirred things up myself.”

That much was true.

“Honestly, given the situation, it’d be best if you got married soon. Having a few brothers around might have helped, but they’re all gone. Without children, if something happens to the current Duke, the family’s collapse is inevitable.”

It was a natural flaw of hereditary leadership.

‘There’s no guarantee the leader’s child won’t be an idiot, so inheritance-based rule is fundamentally flawed.’

Still, I wasn’t about to challenge a truth as absolute as water is liquid in this world.

While I do have a rebellious streak, the root of all my actions is, naturally, my own survival.

“That said, it’s not like I’m volunteering to marry you and produce an heir myself. You’ll have to find another solution.”

I couldn’t exactly demand Hernan marry someone else and have children—and I didn’t want to, either.

Hernan walking hand in hand with someone else down a wedding aisle?

Just the thought made me want to collapse from sheer rage.

Taking a moment to quell my rising anger, I spoke again.

“Velon doesn’t legally prohibit using soldiers for public projects, does it?”

Of course, it’s not exactly praiseworthy.

Back when I was in the army, I cursed inwardly every time soldiers were thrown into disaster recovery work that should’ve hired paid labor.

But… with an abundance of manpower, it was a decent way to curb useless activities.

“That’s correct, but….”

Hernan looked at me with a puzzled expression, unable to gauge my intent. I smirked.

“All three of those regions are trade hubs because they’re near major rivers, right? I’d bet the ports there haven’t been renovated in ages.”

Hernan nodded hesitantly, still not fully understanding.

“Yes, probably more than two centuries.”

Satisfied, I propped my chin on my hand, smiling.

“Then imagine this: A king returns from the frontlines and wants to do something for his people. Job creation is already underway elsewhere. So, to ensure safety in densely populated cities and to promote smoother trade and foreign exchange, what do you think he’d do?”

After a brief pause, I added, “Where do you think he’d start?”

Hernan answered immediately.

“By expanding the ports and modernizing the facilities?”

“Exactly. It’s a no-brainer. Even if things have been fine until now, the goal is to increase capacity and develop further. Saying things are fine as they are doesn’t hold water. And if Yudanet funds the project? There’s even less reason to refuse. You’ve got plenty of soldiers, don’t you? No excuses there.”

The state treasury, which had merely been hoarded, could finally serve a purpose.

With soldiers tied up in public works, those three families wouldn’t have the manpower to stage a rebellion.

The only remaining concerns were….

“That leaves the safety of the Duke and me, the one pushing this project alongside you in Eberdin’s name.”

At my blunt statement, Hernan flinched, his hands trembling on his lap.

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

That much I knew.

The dragon would keep him safe.

But me?

That was a different story. Without hesitation, I dropped a bombshell.

“I’m worried about myself. Let’s just combine our rooms. If I’m in danger, you can save me.”

The idea of dying young—twice—didn’t appeal to me.

Shocked by my declaration, Hernan’s head snapped up, his eyes wide.

* * *