Chapter 36
Arnulf quickly turned around to hide his discomfiture.
“Is something wrong?”
Sigmund asked curiously, but Arnulf couldn’t bring himself to look back. If he did, his face would surely give him away.
“I suddenly feel hungry after all that movement. Let’s go eat.”
He hurriedly started walking, pretending to wipe sweat from his face while rubbing at his cheeks. His palms felt burning hot.
‘It’s because of the sparring,’
Yes, of course. It was only because of the intense bout with Sigmund. There could be no other reason. Arnulf forced himself to think that as he walked away.
Behind him, Sigmund watched Arnulf’s retreating back with a faintly amused look. After a moment, a small smile formed on his own lips as well.
* * *
The butler of House Sigmund fidgeted nervously, glancing at the elderly woman sitting across from him. Her silver hair was neatly tied, and she wore a pale lavender dress. She was none other than the head housekeeper of Duke Waldeck’s estate.
“Um… Head Housekeeper, I think it’s time you returned. Lord Sigmund went out just a while ago.”
The butler spoke carefully. But the woman acted as if she hadn’t heard, simply gazing out the parlor window at the garden beyond.
Truthfully, she had seen Sigmund leave the estate earlier. Just as he had stood her up before, staying here longer wouldn’t make him suddenly appear.
“This is troublesome. The Duke and Duchess have such high hopes for this ball.”
“My apologies.”
“Do you know where he went?”
“I’m afraid… I don’t.”
“And yesterday? Where was he then?”
The housekeeper’s sharp questions came one after another, but the butler had no answers. The truth was, Sigmund never told anyone where he went when he left the house.
“I hear he’s been meeting with Lord Pomozein quite often lately. Is that true?”
“Ah… yes, he goes there almost every day. I imagine he went there today as well.”
Only then did the housekeeper finally turn her gaze away from the window. Her eyes flickered with a complicated emotion.
After giving the butler one last glance, she left the Sigmund residence.
On her way back to the Duke’s estate, she happened to encounter Duke Waldeck, who had just returned from his own outing.
“You went to see Sigmund?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“How was he?”
“I didn’t see him yesterday, nor today.”
The Duke’s expression darkened with displeasure.
“What in blazes is he doing that he can’t even be found?”
“It seems he’s been visiting Lord Pomozein’s house daily.”
“Joseph Pomozein?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Tch. Just when I thought we’d finally gotten rid of that troublesome nuisance, he starts keeping company with a rake like that? When will that fool finally come to his senses? Tch, tch!”
Clicking his tongue in irritation, the Duke strode inside first. The housekeeper let out a long, weary sigh.
She could only hope Sigmund wouldn’t incur the Duke’s wrath again—but she knew it was a futile wish.
* * *
“So, what brings you here so early today?”
“Do I need a reason?”
Arnulf couldn’t bring himself to ask what that meant. Somehow, he could already guess what Sigmund might say next.
Something about our relationship… or dating, perhaps.
Words that would only make things more awkward if spoken aloud.
“A rather unpleasant guest showed up, so I left early.”
Thankfully, Sigmund changed the subject himself.
“A guest?”
“Yes, the head housekeeper came.”
“The head housekeeper? Ah… because of the ball, I suppose.”
Arnulf frowned slightly as he recalled their earlier conversation about showing everyone at the ball that their relationship was “special.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
But his expression didn’t match his words. Even so, Sigmund didn’t press further. Instead, he smoothly shifted topics again.
“Don’t feel pressured. You only have to make an appearance.”
“……”
Arnulf scratched his cheek with his index finger and looked away. He could feel Sigmund’s gaze lingering on him, but he didn’t dare meet his eyes.
Sigmund spent the afternoon having tea with him, then dinner, and finally left the mansion late in the evening.
“Did you say you’re attending the Waldeck family’s ball?”
It was on the way back from seeing Sigmund off at the door when Finn finally gave in to his curiosity.
“Yes.”
Arnulf replied casually, but Finn’s eyes widened.
“You’re really going?”
Arnulf looked up from the invitation and studied him, sensing something odd.
“What’s wrong?”
Was attending a ball really something to worry about? Then it hit him why Finn was acting that way.
“Are you worried I’ll cause trouble? Don’t. I won’t.”
Arnulf said flatly. Even though Finn knew he wasn’t the same Joseph as before, his past antics were apparently still reason enough for concern.
“No! No, that’s not it!”
Finn waved his hands frantically in denial.
“I mean… it’s just…”
He clenched his fists in frustration, unable to find the right words.
“Well, if it’s not that, then fine.”
Arnulf shrugged and began walking down the hall, rolling his sore shoulders from sparring earlier.
Finn followed behind, his expression still clouded.
That’s not it at all…
If the Duchess had gone to such lengths to invite every eligible young lady to the ball, what would happen if his master—who had rumors linking him romantically to Sigmund—showed up?
“Ugh…”
Just imagining it made him shiver.
“Finn? What’s wrong? Cold?”
Arnulf asked in confusion.
“No.”
Not cold. Just terrified, he thought, but he couldn’t say it aloud.
Inside, Finn sighed. His master might have lost his memories, but his lack of awareness hadn’t changed one bit.
Arnulf, completely unbothered, spent the evening cleaning his sword, reading a little, and retiring to his room early for the night.
As Arnulf changed into comfortable clothes, Finn let out a small “Oh?”
“Hmm?”
“That ring—you said Sir Sigmund gave it to you, didn’t you?”
Arnulf blinked, momentarily surprised. He had completely forgotten about the ring hanging from his necklace, having worn it for so long.
“So that’s why you went out to buy a chain! You could’ve told me. I could’ve called a jeweler here.”
“Yeah, true.”
There was a reason he hadn’t. If he’d summoned a jeweler, Finn would’ve pestered him with endless questions about where the ring came from. And now, with Finn mistakenly believing it was a gift from Sigmund, it would only complicate things further.
Since he couldn’t explain the truth, Arnulf could only give vague answers.
That same evening, Sigmund opened a jewelry box and took out a ring identical in design to the one Arnulf wore.
He threaded it onto a chain and hung it around his neck.
Arnulf was surely trying to keep his hidden. That’s why it hadn’t been visible all day. But Sigmund was different.
He intended to wear his openly—though not yet in front of Arnulf.
“I wonder what kind of reaction I’ll get.”
A rare, mischievous smile curved Sigmund’s lips.
* * *
The day of the ball drew closer.
One morning, just after finishing his exercises and stepping out from the shower, Arnulf saw Finn running toward him, face pale with urgency.
“L-Lord Joseph! Lord Joseph!”
“Finn? What is it?”
Arnulf asked, ruffling his still-damp hair.
“Please, come to the door! I mean—just check something!”
Finn was practically babbling, glancing back and forth between the hall and Arnulf. Whatever it was, Arnulf would have to see for himself.
He turned toward the windows lining the corridor—and through the glass, he saw a large carriage parked by the front gate.
“What’s with the carriage? Did someone come?”
“Yes—well, someone did, but not exactly a guest. They’ve brought a lot of things, and they said they need your confirmation.”
Finn’s words were confusing and breathless. Still, it seemed something had been delivered for him.
When Arnulf finally reached the entrance, he found three people waiting there.
“Hm? You’re…”
He recognized one of them—the jeweler he’d visited the other day.
“Good day, Lord Pomozein.”
The jeweler smiled broadly and bowed. Arnulf acknowledged him with a nod and turned to the others.
“And you are?”
“A pleasure to meet you, my lord. I’m Hermann, a tailor. I run an atelier.”
A tailor? That was unexpected.
“An atelier?”
“Yes! I came to personally deliver your completed garments. I should’ve come sooner, but with all the recent rush…”
Arnulf raised his hand to stop the man.
“Wait.”
“Yes?”
“Garments?”
Hermann blinked in confusion.
“The ones made for you, my lord.”
“For me?”
As Arnulf repeated the words, Hermann finally realized something was off.
“Ah, Lord Sigmund personally visited our atelier some days ago and ordered them. He said they were for your use—formal attire for the upcoming banquet.”
What?
Arnulf blinked slowly. Silence fell between him and the visitors.
“Shouldn’t we at least bring the gifts inside first?”
It was Finn who broke the silence. After all, these were gifts from Sigmund—it wouldn’t do to turn them away at the door.
Arnulf glanced past them at the stack of boxes loaded on the carriage.
“All of that… came from Sigmund?”
For once, he was so startled that he forgot to use the honorific. Thankfully, no one noticed.
“Yes.”
Arnulf sighed inwardly and rubbed his forehead. He couldn’t make sense of what Sigmund was thinking.
Should I just send it all back?
He hesitated, but in the end, he stepped aside.
“Bring them in.”
