Chapter 7
Behind the main manor of the Count’s residence stood a stone-walled storage shed. No one was allowed entry without the mistress’s permission.
Because it was where the mistress, Charlotte, kept her beloved possessions. Of course, it wasn’t just objects stored there.
“Mmm, Mas.”
Charlotte sat on a sofa she had brought into the shed, rubbing her plush body against the young knight and acting coquettish.
The young knight, Mas, held her tight with his thick, muscular arms, continuously kneading her buttocks. Charlotte grabbed his wrist and whined playfully.
“Ah, such a shame. I really have to go now.”
“Can’t you stay?”
Charlotte’s excited gaze turned to Mas’s face. He had a double eyelid on only one eye, and both eye corners were slightly lifted, reminiscent of a fox. With his straight nose bridge, plump lips, and a mole beside them, he exuded a sensual charm.
A month ago, Charlotte hadn’t been able to refuse Mas’s fervent courtship and had entered into a secret affair with him.
“Don’t be like this. It’s hard for me too.”
Flushed with the thought that such a young and handsome man was so smitten with her, Charlotte ran her hand over Mas’s firm chest. Mas brought his lips to her ear and whispered.
“If only we had met a little sooner…”
“I feel the same. If I could turn back time, I’d go back to before I got married.”
Mas’s thick lips moved sensuously over Charlotte’s earlobe.
“Actually, this is a secret, but I do have an acquaintance who can turn back time.”
“Oh my, really?”
“Shall I ask him for you?”
Charlotte let out a tinkling, high-pitched laugh as if hearing a wonderful joke. She then cupped Mas’s handsome face with both hands.
“Then, how many years should we go back? Exactly how old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
Charlotte’s movements halted at his immediate answer.
“Th-that young?”
She had expected him to be in his twenties, but the mid-twenties, not the late twenties.
They were a full sixteen years apart. Charlotte’s cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment.
“Then, if we go back twenty-two years, to before I got married…”
“I would be four years old.”
Mas retorted, winking one eye. Charlotte’s pink cheeks twitched.
“Still, go back twenty-two years, don’t get married, and wait for me. I’ll find you, my lady, by any means necessary.”
“Oh my, that’s so romantic, honey.”
Charlotte looked at Mas with fluttering eyes and then hugged him tightly. Mas embraced her affectionately.
“But I think your husband’s nephew might have noticed our relationship.”
Charlotte murmured as if to herself while in Mas’s arms. For a moment, Mas’s eyes glinted ominously.
“So I think we need to eliminate him. You’ll help me, won’t you?”
“Of course. Naturally.”
Mas answered immediately and gave Charlotte a light kiss on her forehead.
“What exactly are you?”
Agnes swallowed dryly at the abruptly changed atmosphere. Ergon’s tone was as cold as ice, and a frigid aura emanated from his eyes.
He changed so quickly that now she was the one curious about his true identity.
“You’re heavy, so please move first.”
Agnes pushed against Ergon’s chest, which was on top of her.
Ergon obediently let himself be pushed and sat down on the sofa. Agnes also tidied herself and stood up. Then she pulled over the small stool she had placed in front of the vanity and sat down facing him.
While Agnes was pondering how to answer, a low voice broke the silence flowing between them.
“Have you ever heard of psychometry?”
Agnes raised her eyes to look at him across from her. Her expression twisted with distaste at the unfamiliar word.
“Psy-psychomestic…?”
“No. Completely different.”
Ergon flatly denied it, and Agnes, feeling embarrassed, pressed her lips tightly together.
“Psychometry. It’s said to be a type of magic—the ability to read information about an object or person by touching it.”
Agnes’s eyes widened at Ergon’s explanation. The ability called ‘psychometry’ he described sounded very similar to the ‘memory reading’ she had lived with for over a decade, believing it to be an illness.
“That’s your ability.”
Agnes’s eyes opened as wide as they could possibly go. It was only a few days ago that she realized this wasn’t some mental illness. Yet, a stranger she had just met had discerned the nature of an ability she hadn’t even known she possessed.
Moreover, if what he said was true, it meant she had been using magic as naturally as breathing since childhood, a time she couldn’t even remember. Wasn’t it an established fact that the bloodline of sorcerers had died out in this world?
“I-I have no idea what you’re talking about…”
“The moment you took my handkerchief, you knew the lady had kissed it. After holding my hand, you mentioned an uninvited guest showing up at the Duke’s residence. And earlier, after touching me, you pointed out that I dislike physical contact.”
A series of events lined up in Agnes’s mind. Elated by the thought that her ability might not be an illness, she had acted carelessly in front of this stranger. Agnes bit her lower lip, realizing her mistake.
Still, she felt a bit indignant. Setting aside the other instances, for the last one, she hadn’t touched him. He had brought her hand to his face and rubbed against it.
‘Did he know everything from the start and do it on purpose?’
Agnes watched Ergon from across the way with wary eyes. Even though it was confirmed not to be an illness, this ability had been her long-standing complex, and her heart began to pound anxiously. She had thought of him as just a playboy who liked women, but he was not someone to take lightly.
Ergon met her gaze and leaned his upper body against the back of the sofa.
“Especially the last point—only a very few women I’ve met have noticed that fact. And it wasn’t me who silenced them; it was their own pride.”
Agnes gave an awkward smile.
‘A womanizer who hates physical contact? And yet he kissed me, a complete stranger? Wait, so those scandalous rumors about his… size… were all just women’s exaggerations? Does this man have no sense of shame?’
Just as Agnes, unable to hide her fluster, was about to bite her nails, Ergon asked a question.
“By any chance, are you a descendant of sorcerers?”
Agnes quickly lowered her hand from her mouth and shook her head from side to side. The Winchester family was far removed from magic, and she had never heard anything about her mother being a sorceress.
“Well, that’s not very important. What I was trying to say…”
Ergon began, leaning his upper body forward. His sharp gaze was striking. Agnes looked at him, completely different from when he acted like a lovestruck fool, with a sense of wonder. This was probably his true self.
“How about we make a deal?”
“A deal?”
“You need to help me a bit. In return, I will grant you one wish.”
This was welcome news. Agnes’s black eyes sparkled like obsidian. A change contrasting with Ergon’s green eyes, which had grown even deeper.
“The truth is, I’ve found myself in a bit of a difficult situation.”
“Difficult…?”
“I’ve been framed as the suspect in a poisoning incident that occurred at the palace.”
“Pardon?”
Agnes was startled. When she had inadvertently held his hand before and glimpsed his aide’s thoughts, she had assumed it was merely a routine investigation targeting a high-ranking member of the imperial family. No matter what, they wouldn’t pin such a crime on the Emperor’s only brother.
Besides, she already knew his innocence from the moment she used her ability, so she hadn’t been particularly worried. But what had happened in the meantime that he had become a suspect?
Ergon did not hesitate to add an explanation.
“It seems a packet of poison was found among the documents confiscated from my desk drawer.”
The same type of poison used in the palace poisoning incident was found among Ergon’s belongings. Ergon immediately realized it was someone’s frame-up, but there was no way to prove it.
“So, I want you to use your psychometry ability to find the real culprit.”
If Agnes would just touch the poison packet and identify the true criminal, Ergon intended to grant her one request. Whatever it might be.
“It’s something I can do, but it would take time.”
He didn’t want to waste any more time clearing up this unjust situation. To avoid that, he absolutely needed Agnes’s help.
“Now, tell me what you want. I will grant it all.”
