Chapter 2
“What, another broken engagement?!”
A thunderous roar shook the mansion like lightning.
Crash!
A vase in the hallway fell right on cue.
The maid who had been cleaning it quickly bent down to pick up the shards, sneaking a glance at the source of the noise—the door of the study.
That furious voice belonged to Count Maion Cloverfield.
“How many times is this already?!”
He slammed the letter of annulment from the other family onto the desk.
Kyria avoided his glare and quietly lifted three fingers.
The count’s sharp mustache twitched in anger. Kyria looked off into the distance, pretending innocence.
‘No way am I opening my mouth right now.’
As expected, the count growled for a while before forcing himself to calm down.
“Fine. Then tell me—why did they call it off this time?”
“I was just doing my usual things.”
“Your usual things?!”
“Researching herbs.”
That much was true.
Of course, when she worked, her hair was tied up like a perfect shut-in, and the herbs she studied smelled like rotting compost. Not to mention, there had been… a few small explosions.
She had simply left out those details.
When the fiancé’s family said, ‘Stop that strange and dangerous research at once!’ and she ignored them—well, they immediately demanded to break the engagement.
Kyria acted innocent, but the count already knew better. This had happened three times.
“If you’re engaged, you should be preparing to be a bride. How can you act like you’re still single, just doing research all day?”
“I did attend the etiquette classes they required during the day. Shouldn’t I at least be free to use my spare time as I want?”
“You shouldn’t be researching at all!”
“That’s absolutely impossible!”
For the first time since his scolding began, Kyria raised her voice.
The count twitched, but she remained firm.
“I will never give up my research. And you know very well why.”
“…Hmph.”
She called him “Count” instead of “Father,” but neither of them cared much.
Still, her words seemed to throw him off for a moment.
The mood had shifted. Kyria hid a secret smile.
‘Perfect. I just bought myself more research time.’
Ever since her coming-of-age, suitors had been introduced to her. She didn’t like anyone, and honestly, she never wanted to marry.
Why? Because marriage meant restrictions on her freedom—especially her poison research.
‘If anyone finds out I study toxic herbs, rumors would explode. Evil, wicked, cursed—every insult in the book.’
So she tried to delay marriage as much as possible.
But one day the count said:
“You’re grown now. It’s time I collect my investment.”
“Investment…?”
“Your upbringing, of course.”
Under imperial law, a father could force his daughter to marry—and as a noble lady, marriage for the family’s sake was unavoidable.
‘To survive, I have to marry someone who’ll ignore me completely.’
Until then, all she needed was time to finish her research. That’s why she deliberately made her fiancé’s families break off the engagements first.
And now, after three failed engagements in such a short time, Kyria had become the most unwanted bride in noble society.
She wasn’t worried.
‘Marriage is a transaction. The count, being a merchant to his bones, won’t make a losing deal. So until my bad reputation calms down, he’ll have no choice but to wait at least a year or two. Plenty of time for me.’
Her brilliant counter-strategy.
She was so proud she almost laughed, but forced herself to keep a straight face.
But then—
“Count? What are you doing?”
The count had suddenly gone quiet and was scribbling furiously at his desk.
“…Count?”
He raised a big hand, signaling her to stay quiet and wait.
“….”
Kyria sighed and leaned against the sofa, glancing at the clock.
‘Ugh, I could be researching right now.’
Bored, she fiddled with her fingers, then even started dozing off.
After some time—
Thud.
The heavy sound of something hitting the table jolted her awake.
The count sat across from her, with two objects placed on the table.
“…?”
Kyria blinked. The man looked more like a mercenary king than a noble merchant—his imposing presence enough to intimidate anyone.
She sat up straighter, cautious.
“I know you don’t like me. And I know you’ve been expressing your dissatisfaction through these broken engagements.”
“Uh….”
Not exactly, Kyria thought. She didn’t really resent him—it wasn’t like it was her real father.
But before she could explain, he continued:
“But I have no intention of enduring more headaches from your marriage problems. Therefore—I won’t let you harm this family’s interests any further. I’m a busy man.”
“What do you mean by that…?”
“This is my final warning.”
Smack.
He slapped his hand on the two objects.
“Choose one.”
“…?”
One was a thick scroll.
The other, a flat, wrapped package.
‘That scroll must be what he was writing earlier. But what’s in the package?’
Nervously, Kyria unwrapped it.
“Ahhh!”
She instinctively dropped it.
“This is my choice? Are you insane?!”
It was a portrait of a man. A plump but gentle-looking middle-aged man.
But Kyria knew better. Portraits always lied. She had learned that the hard way.
This man was none other than the “Toad Baron”—famous in society as the old noble who looked exactly like… well, a toad.
Why didn’t the painter include the age spots? I saw them!
“This is Baron Toad! He’s already been married once, and his son is older than me!”
“You’re one to talk, with all your broken engagements. And besides, he’s rich.”
“Money isn’t everything!”
“It is.”
The count’s merchant’s eyes glinted coldly.
“He’s rich enough to cover all the damages you’ve caused this family. At this point, he’s the only one who would still marry you.”
“Yes, I caused trouble with those broken engagements, but selling me off to some old man? That’s cruel! Blood-related or not, I’m still your daughter!”
The count just stared at her blankly.
“That doesn’t work on me.”
“Tch.”
Kyria glared at the portrait again.
Surely there must be something redeeming about this man…
‘Nope. Nothing.’
She slammed the table like he did.
“I’d rather pay the damages myself than marry him!”
“So be it.”
“…What?”
The count nodded at the thick scroll.
‘Wait… don’t tell me….’
Kyria’s heart raced as she picked it up. The scroll was so thick it filled her arms.
She untied the ribbon—
Fwwsh!
Paper poured out, piling onto her feet.
She stared at the endless lines of writing.
Then froze.
They were bills.
“All of this…?”
The count explained calmly.
“The wedding preparations, dowries, gifts, compensation for damages—everything from all three engagements. And since all your suitors came from powerful noble houses, we also lost major business clients in our trading company. The costs of lost trust, canceled contracts, failed investments—all are here.”
Kyria’s eyes shook.
He had been keeping record this whole time.
‘I thought he was just letting me off easy after each broken engagement… but he was preparing this!’
“The total is written at the bottom.”
Kyria swallowed and looked.
Total: 425,784,532 G
…Huh?
She rubbed her eyes, counted digits one by one, and checked again.
It was no mistake.
“F-Four hundred million gold?!”
Her grip failed and the scroll dropped to the floor.
Even without the extra millions, it was still over 400 million gold.
“This is impossible! Sure, I broke off some engagements, but this amount?!”
“If you doubt it, feel free to go over the numbers again.”
“Th-that….”
“Now then.”
The count leaned forward, towering like a loan shark.
“Which will you choose?”
