If he had pitched a tent between them and prayed for forgiveness, Yunsol might have believed him.
No—even if he had simply lowered his head without a word, she might not have questioned it. His voice, his posture, even his expression—everything suggested a man offering a sincere apology.
Everything except his eyes.
They were cold, far too cold, and that chill unsettled her.
Yunsol was quick to catch such things. This is all an act, she thought. A ploy. He has some hidden agenda.
“Is this why you called me here?” she asked.
“A man of House Blake keeps his word.”
“Then what? You’ll repay me a thousandfold, ten thousandfold? You’ll accept whatever punishment I demand?”
Yunsol folded her arms and curved her lips into a mocking smile. That should wipe the sulk off his face.
But contrary to her expectations, Ethan answered as though he had been waiting for those very words.
“I will. What do you want?”
A faint shadow of cynicism crossed his face—so subtle it might have been imagined. But Yunsol was certain: this was another test.
This man is really—
She felt so exasperated she could have ripped her hair out.
If you’ve seen me work with your own eyes, shouldn’t you trust me by now? Why are humans always so suspicious? It’s exhausting!
She shot back bluntly, almost in spite of herself.
“Punishment aside—if I ask you for something, can you truly give me anything? I doubt it.”
“Though our fortune has waned, House Blake is still a ducal family,” Ethan replied smoothly. “Don’t hold back. Speak honestly.”
The words were gentle, coaxing, but to Yunsol they sounded like the hiss of a snake hiding its fangs.
If she asked for money, he would almost certainly sneer: Ah, so you’re just like the others.
Hadn’t Diego said that Ethan’s vigilance and ruthless defense were the only things keeping this family alive?
Her irritation deflated a little. When she thought of it that way—like a hedgehog raising its spines to protect its kin—his suspicions became harder to condemn.
Fine. I’ll let it go for Diego’s sake.
With a sigh, she lowered her arms.
“That’s enough. I don’t need or want anything else.”
Ethan didn’t answer. His silence spoke louder than words: he was still weighing, still doubting.
Well, let him. No matter how she explained herself, he would never be convinced. The only thing she could do was keep acting in good faith.
“The Duke has already apologized,” Yunsol said. “Let’s file the petition right away. Surely he wants to find his brother as soon as possible.”
“No.”
His gaze lingered on her face as he continued.
“Mother will submit the petition tomorrow. She’ll want to do it herself.”
“…I see.”
The matter was closed. The office fell into a heavy silence.
“Then I’ll return now,” Yunsol said, rising.
Leaving him to stew in his doubts, she strode for the door without hesitation.
Diego was waiting just outside.
“Sir, I will escort you to your chambers,” he said with his usual dignified bow.
True to his word, he served her with earnest formality—an equal, even if one side was only pretending.
They had barely walked ten steps when a voice rang from behind.
“Hey.”
Ethan stood half in, half out of his office doorway.
“What is your name?” he asked.
Caught off guard, Yunsol answered at once.
“This is Kang Yun-sol.”
“I see.”
That was all. Ethan retreated back into his office, leaving only Diego, who wore an awkward, knowing smile.
Ethan had to admit—his attempt to pry into the agent’s true nature had failed.
He had thought that if he feigned an apology, her naïve demeanor would lower her guard. But his judgment had been wrong.
“Kang Yun-sol…”
He spoke her name slowly. The sound was strange on his tongue, unusual for anyone born in the Empire.
From the very first moment, everything about her had seemed… off. Her name, her peculiar clothes, her short hair no different from a man’s, the timid-yet-explosive temperament that made her unreadable.
She was nothing like the other agents.
Most agents were ruthless, obsessed only with their own gain. They ignored the plight of believers unless they were bribed with offerings. And they held such lofty pride as God’s representatives that even the slightest rudeness could provoke brutal retribution.
If he had spoken to any of them as he had to her, they would have stormed out of the castle immediately. Or worse, they would have demanded he mutilate himself in penance.
But Kang Yun-sol…
Rather than demand respect, she dismissed his awkward formality and even told him to speak more casually. She had accepted his half-hearted apology without fuss.
It was utterly unthinkable for an agent.
And it confused him.
Was she truly different? Was she really what she appeared to be—a selfless messenger of God, here to help them?
Had her honesty allowed her to see through his little “test”?
“…No,” Ethan muttered, forcing the thought away.
It wasn’t enough. Betrayal always came after trust.
Even if she did have the power to find Louis, what then?
The temples had already turned him away. He knew too well how their so-called agents behaved. They would pretend to help, only to use Louis as leverage later, demanding impossible tributes.
Better to drive her out now—even if she succeeded—than let his family be used.
And yet…
He remembered her face. Those almost insolently transparent eyes, emotions written so plainly across them.
It hadn’t looked like an act. For a fleeting moment, he had almost believed.
But to hope—that was a sin.
A man who had failed to protect his brother had no right to hope.
Ethan Blake steeled himself once more.
The next morning, after breakfast, Yunsol followed Diego’s guidance to the annex.
The rain had cleared overnight, leaving the May sky startlingly blue. No thunder, no lightning, no clouds remained—only crisp, clean air.
And yet, beneath that flawless sky, the annex loomed as ominous as ever.
Yunsol shivered. The memory of last night’s events clung to her mind with vivid clarity, like a scene replaying in high definition.
Diego led her to the same reception room as before. After a short wait, the Duchess arrived, flanked by her maid and physician. Ethan was conspicuously absent.
Yunsol rose at once.
“Good morning, Madam.”
“Ah, Agent! What a fine morning indeed!”
The Duchess clasped her hands together, her entire face alight. Yunsol blinked, momentarily at a loss.
“Did you rest well?” the Duchess asked.
“Yes. Thank you for your concern,” Yunsol replied politely.
The Duchess did not sit. She remained standing before her, almost trembling with anticipation.
Awkward, Yunsol mirrored her question. “And yourself, Madam? Did you have a peaceful night?”
“Ah, sir,” the Duchess said with a rueful smile. “I know I should say yes, but how could I lie to you? I did not sleep a wink. My heart pounded all night long.”
As they spoke, a maid set a light tea table before them, but still the Duchess refused to sit.
Yunsol shifted uneasily. “You must be exhausted, Madam. Please, sit.”
“Thank you, Agent.”
The Duchess lowered herself gracefully, lifting her skirts with delicate fingers.
Only then did Yunsol truly understand. The Duchess regarded her as a superior. After witnessing her powers once, her fervent devotion had only intensified.
Embarrassment prickled through Yunsol—but beneath it, an undeniable swell of pride.
“Well then,” she said, mustering courage, “if it pleases you, Madam, shall we begin the ceremony right away?”
The words sounded braver than she felt. In truth, she dreaded the ordeal. The pain of transmitting location information was unbearable—something she never wished to experience again.
“Yes, sir! Thank you, thank you!”
“Oh, it’s too soon to thank me,” Yunsol mumbled, lowering her gaze. “Better to wait until your son is found.”
She bent, adjusting her skirts in preparation. At that moment, Ethan entered, silent as a shadow. He sat with arms folded, hostility plain in his eyes.
Why does he always look at me like that?
Yunsol bit her lip.
The Duchess, too, noticed. Her eyes narrowed with displeasure, a storm ready to break—but Yunsol hurried to cut it off.
“Madam, I am ready.”
She had no wish to witness another family quarrel.
Though reluctant, the Duchess rose. Yunsol lifted her hem and bared her right foot.
And then—
The Duchess knelt on the floor, lowered her head, and pressed her lips reverently to Yunsol’s foot.
“Sir,” she whispered fervently, “please find my second son, Louis Blake.”
