The teacup holding the black tea gave a soft clatter as Elena’s movement made the table tremble slightly.
‘A secret?’
At the same time, Benedict’s red eyes wavered just a little. He was conflicted.
‘Just by sitting across from me, she manages to make it look like we’re a sweet couple to everyone else. I can’t get pulled into this.’
Which meant he definitely shouldn’t hear her secret. Sharing secrets — that meant trust, a kind of closeness beyond anyone else. He had no desire to be in that kind of cutesy, lovey-dovey relationship with her. And he absolutely shouldn’t be. That would be personal feelings, no doubt about it.
Even if Elena had gone above and beyond the contract by drafting piles of extra documents for him, and even cleared up misunderstandings with the territory’s people.
Having made his decision, Benedict turned his head instead of answering. Elena let out a high-pitched laugh at his dramatic gesture.
“Knew it. I just knew you’d be curious.”
Damn it.
Benedict squeezed his eyes shut. He was sure he didn’t want to hear Elena’s secret. And yet, somehow, his head went and nodded all on its own instead of shaking side to side like he meant it to.
“So… how exactly do you do it?”
In the end, he even set the papers aside and turned toward Elena. She leaned comfortably into the back of her chair, smiling softly.
“Hmm, how should I explain this…”
Then she leaned forward again, forming a square with her thumbs and forefingers. Benedict furrowed his brow slightly.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m storing the scenery inside this little square into my mind.”
Elena stretched her arms forward, making the square with her fingers, then closed one eye and stared through the space between them. Her blue eye locked with his through the white, delicate frame of her fingers.
“Ahem.”
Benedict instinctively looked away.
“Now, I’m going to close my eyes.”
When he glanced back, Elena was sitting there with her eyes shut tightly.
“When I close my eyes like this, everything I stored in my head a moment ago pops up like a picture.”
“That’s your secret?”
Benedict let out a dry laugh, feeling his expectations pop like a balloon. He’d thought it was going to be something impressive. It felt like he’d been conned.
“Anyone can do that.”
As if to prove it, he shut his eyes tightly. In the darkness, the image of Elena’s face rose in his mind — her delicate features, large round eyes, a small nose, lips softly curved and full. Cute and pretty, sure, but that was all.
Then came her playful reply.
“Well, I’m not just anyone.”
Chuckling quietly, Elena lifted her right hand in the air with her eyes still closed.
“Over your left shoulder on the desk, the stacked books are, in order: <Introduction to Military Studies>, <Understanding Estate Management>, and <How to Reject Love Without Hurting Someone>. Right?”
“……!”
“…Who the hell brought a romance self-help book into the office?”
Elena tilted her head to the left, eyes still shut.
Thud!
Benedict shot up and frantically stuffed <How to Reject Love Without Hurting Someone> into a drawer. He’d seen it in the library a few days ago, picked it up on impulse. Not because he was worried Elena might get hurt later or anything — he was just curious.
“Ahem. So. Is that it?”
Only after hiding the book did he manage to steer the conversation back. He scoffed. What was the big deal about memorizing three book titles? Elena gave a small laugh at his reaction.
“Of course not, I’m not done yet. The linen curtain by the right window has thirteen pleats, and there are twenty-nine roses in the vase.”
“…You’re serious.”
Her exact descriptions, like she was still looking at the scene, left Benedict gaping. Elena wore an adorably smug expression.
“If I need to, I can recall someone’s face, too. Not just remembering them vaguely — like a real picture.”
“Like a picture… how, exactly—”
Before he could finish, he froze as soft fingertips touched his face.
“For example, the Grand Duke has a small scar above this eyebrow… a faint mole on this cheek… and a slight cut mark here on your lip.”
Benedict unconsciously held his breath as her hand slowly traced down his face. She was clearly using this whole ‘secret’ excuse to feel him up. He needed to get those presumptuous fingers off his face. But for some reason, he couldn’t move.
He simply stared at Elena’s closed eyes. The afternoon sun poured down, scattering gold across her honey-blonde hair.
“……!”
A sudden dizziness struck. Was it the glare of the sunlight? Or maybe the dangerously soft fingers tracing his skin? Either way, Benedict blinked slowly, trying to clear his blurred vision.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
His heart was pounding wildly. Then, Elena opened her eyes, sparkling with mischief.
“See? Incredibly useful, right?”
“……!”
His wildly beating heart now felt like it might actually stop. Something was definitely wrong with him.
Benedict could no longer bear it. He leapt to his feet and strode toward the door. Elena called out behind him, startled.
“Hey now, where are you off to, weren’t you in the middle of work, Your Grace?”
“Don’t worry about me. You should head back too.”
He didn’t even glance back. His instincts — sharpened by years on the battlefield — were screaming. If he kept facing Elena right now, something big was going to happen.
Something he couldn’t quite name, but definitely something.
* * *
“The construction of the workshop is progressing very smoothly. Productivity within the territory has increased by 40% compared to last month.”
Albert’s face was unusually bright as he gave his report. He’d once doubted my plan, but now he was handling his duties more diligently than anyone. At first, I’d even suspected he might have been bribed by that bastard Crown Prince to bring down the Grand Ducal Territory by pushing high-interest loans. But it seemed he’d genuinely been willing to take out those loan-shark loans out of concern for the territory’s wellbeing.
“But…”
Albert’s cheerful tone dimmed slightly mid-report.
“The Grand Ducal Residence is nearly out of liquid funds. We’ve already spent three months’ worth of budget on construction costs and the residents’ wages.”
He wasn’t wrong. We still needed more time before we could start selling the clocks, and with the scale of our plan, our current funds weren’t even close to enough.
“There hasn’t been much mercenary work lately either… must be the warm weather.”
The Grand Duke murmured to himself quietly as he listened to Albert’s report. Judging by the way his expression grew grim, he was probably planning to make up for the shortfall himself again. The sight of him stewing over it made me smile for some reason.
“It’s good that you’re motivated, but there’s no need for that this time.”
“Do you have a way to get that kind of money right now?”
I nodded confidently. I’d already prepared a backup plan — I couldn’t keep relying on superstition and hoping he’d make it back alive.
“I landed us a backer.”
“A backer…?”
“Yes. I secured investment from Young Marquess Spencer.”
A deep frown formed on the Grand Duke’s forehead. His voice dripped with suspicion.
“Aiden Spencer is going to loan the Grand Ducal Residence money for nothing in return?”
“It’s not for nothing. I granted the Spencer Guild exclusive distribution rights for the clocks. The Grand Ducal House doesn’t have a guild of its own, after all.”
That was the deal I’d discreetly struck with Young Marquess Spencer in the carriage on our way back from the kingdom. And honestly, we had nothing to lose. The Spencer Guild was currently the most successful in the Empire.
Even so, the Grand Duke didn’t look pleased.
“That’s really all he asked for?”
“Well… there was one other condition, but it wasn’t anything serious. Just… a little unusual.”
Remembering the peculiar request he’d made in the carriage after our return from the Grace Kingdom, I wrinkled my nose involuntarily.
“You’re saying you want funding in exchange for exclusive rights?”
“Of course. You know better than anyone how valuable exclusivity is. If you don’t like it, I’ll find another guild.”
When I gave him a pointed smile, Young Marquess Spencer’s eyes lit up with amusement. He smiled back, as if genuinely impressed, and accepted the deal without protest.
“Very well. No merchant worth his salt would turn down an offer from the Grand Duchess herself. But—I’d like to add one more condition of my own…”
As I recalled that moment, the Grand Duke’s voice cut sharply through my thoughts.
“And what exactly was Aiden’s condition?”
Just then, the door to the office burst open, and a cheerful voice filled the room. I blinked in surprise at the man who suddenly appeared.
“Well, well. Were you two talking about me?”
Aiden Spencer glanced between the Grand Duke and me, his eyes crinkling into a smile.
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