Chapter 29
Count Hermil was exactly as kind and considerate as her uncle had promised. He never said anything that crossed a line, and there was a natural elegance in his every action. The kind of noble Orelentia had grown up seeing was someone like Count Hermil.
“You really like tea, don’t you? You seem to be emptying your cup rather quickly.”
At his gentle voice, Orelentia flinched for a moment. Her stomach felt uncomfortably full—she really had drunk far too much tea.
Why is that? He’s clearly a good person, but this is so boring. All we’ve done is drink tea the whole time.
Orelentia normally liked to savor tea slowly. Yet she’d been drinking it like water. Had being with Count Hermil felt stifling to her?
No! I should look at his good points!
She smiled with her eyes and looked at Hermil’s bright, open face.
“The tea tastes especially good today.”
As she spoke, Orelentia noticed Dimidius walking beyond the garden. It looked like he was heading toward the carriage house.
Out again? Where on earth was he going this time?
Without realizing it, she clenched her teacup and spoke in a loud voice.
“Maybe it’s because I’m with you, Count Hermil! Haha!”
Had Dimidius heard that?
Whether he had or not—what did it matter?
Embarrassed by her own childish behavior, Orelentia wanted to crawl into a hole. The hand holding her teacup trembled slightly. She didn’t know why she lost her composure every time Dimidius was involved.
When her hand shook, Count Hermil gently placed his hand over hers.
“Is something wrong?”
He looked like a man who would never initiate physical contact, yet he stepped in without hesitation when it mattered.
Uncle was right. He really is a decent man.
But dark clouds filled Orelentia’s expression. No matter how good a man Count Hermil was, she wasn’t particularly drawn to him. Since her uncle had introduced him, this wouldn’t be a contract marriage—it would be a real one. And not being attracted to him as a man was a fatal flaw.
Feeling suffocated, Orelentia stood up and began walking through the garden. Count Hermil faithfully stayed by her side.
“Do you feel better now that you’re walking?”
“Yes. I think so. The garden is beautiful, too.”
“There’s so much I’m curious about, my lady. What interests you usually have? I like chess, though I’m not very good at it.”
Orelentia listened halfheartedly, lost in thought.
What I’m most interested in right now is divine power… but I can’t exactly say that.
She also wanted to ask him outright whether he could stand up to Marquis Luxes, but he kept skirting around with idle conversation, leaving her no opening. She began to think Count Hermil was closer to a dreamer than a realist.
After walking around the garden a few times, Orelentia finally returned to her room. Claiming that she hadn’t fully recovered yet made it easy enough to excuse herself.
When she returned, Bobby greeted her excitedly.
“Eek! Miss! How was the count? Do you like him?”
She spoke as if Orelentia had to like him.
Orelentia shook her head weakly.
“I don’t know. He seems like a good person, but… that’s about it.”
“Oh come on! It just feels vague because you’ve only just met. Once you’re married, it’ll be different.”
“Married? To Count Hermil?”
At her raised voice, Bobby looked flustered.
“Isn’t that why you’re meeting him?”
“I—!”
She had no rebuttal. Bobby was right—this was practically a meeting where marriage was already assumed, just with a period of mutual evaluation. That was why it felt so suffocating and painful. What she’d wanted was a contract marriage. How had things ended up like this?
Overwhelmed, Orelentia buried her face in her pillow. Whether her carefully styled face got ruined didn’t matter right now.
Isn’t there some other way?
She desperately wanted to find a way out of this situation.
It was deep night, filled with the sound of chirring insects.
Unable to sleep, Orelentia paced by the window. She hadn’t drawn the curtains, and elegant moonlight streamed in through the glass.
The night was beautiful, but sleep refused to come—truly a problem.
That was when she spotted Dimidius standing in the middle of the garden. His well-built figure was on full display, and her heart skipped a beat. She didn’t know why it felt like another fated moment. She disliked the saying that repeated coincidences were destiny, yet it felt strangely fitting.
Throwing a robe over her negligee, Orelentia hurried down to the garden.
She planned to persuade him—just once.
Just once! I won’t do it a second time!
But when she reached the garden, Dimidius was nowhere to be seen. Startled, she glanced around, wondering if he was playing hide-and-seek, when his voice came from nearby.
“Are you looking for me?”
Startled, Orelentia clutched her chest and cried out.
“Ah! You scared me! What are you doing out here at this hour?”
Dimidius was wearing a pristine suit, not a wrinkle in sight. He looked so immaculate that it was hard to believe he’d been wandering around the garden.
“I should ask you the same. You came running out here in such a hurry.”
At his teasing tone, Orelentia couldn’t help but chuckle.
“When did I ever do that? Don’t just make things up.”
“I was just enjoying the garden alone one last time. I’m leaving the Odor estate tomorrow morning.”
At the word leaving, Orelentia’s expression fell. Her lips drooped, and a sigh gathered in her mouth. It really seemed like Dimidius had no intention of a contract marriage. Otherwise, could he say so decisively that he was leaving?
Fiddling with her long sleeves, Orelentia turned toward the manor.
“Then enjoy the big, beautiful garden all to yourself for the last time. Have a safe trip.”
That was all she could say to someone leaving the estate. Tired and emotionally tangled, she was ready to return to her bedroom.
Just then, Dimidius grabbed her shoulder with one hand. Orelentia froze in surprise.
W-what is it?
Turning her to face him, Dimidius spoke.
“I lied.”
“About what?”
“About enjoying the garden alone for the last time. I was actually wandering around on purpose, right where the lady on the third floor could see me clearly. Didn’t I stand out rather well?”
Thinking of how clearly she’d seen him from the window, Orelentia clapped her hands together. So this had all been staged by Dimidius!
But then—why?
Why would he do that?
She looked up at him with eyes full of questions. Bathed in moonlight, he seemed unusually pale, like a fantastical herb imbued with mysterious power.
After a moment, his low voice reached her ears.
“Let’s have a contract marriage—you and I.”
Orelentia’s eyes flew open. If she hadn’t misheard, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
She cried out happily.
“Really? Did you suddenly change your mind? You mean a contract marriage?”
Dimidius still looked conflicted, but Orelentia was simply happy. She’d come down to persuade him, and he’d offered first—it made her grateful.
Without realizing it, she grabbed his arm and bounced in place.
“This is wonderful! I’m so relieved!”
Dimidius let out a small laugh.
“Are you that happy? Anyone would think I’d just proposed.”
“To me, it’s no different from a proposal. I was in a really awkward situation. Count Hermil is a good man, but I’m not sure about marrying him.”
“I thought things were going well between you and Count Hermil.”
“Then why did you ask me to enter a contract marriage?”
At her question, Dimidius fell silent for a moment. After a pause, he began walking through the garden as he spoke.
“It didn’t seem like you’d given up on the idea of a contract marriage. Love, romance, marriage—are those things you’re interested in?”
It was natural for young people to stake everything on love, romance, and marriage. Orelentia wasn’t entirely uninterested either.
After a moment of thought, she shrugged.
“I’m not sure. I just want to marry someone I love. My parents married for love, and they were truly happy together. Growing up watching that, I guess I came to dislike political marriages.”
It had been a long time since she’d spoken about her parents to anyone. Even she was surprised at herself.
Dimidius stopped walking and turned to look at her.
“You’re different from me. I don’t believe in love—or marriage. I believe only in myself.”
His voice was firm and clear. The words I don’t believe in love or marriage sounded like a powerful declaration. It felt as though he had no intention of growing close to her, even in a contract marriage.
Orelentia was surprised, but she tried not to show it.
“I’ll be faithful to the contract. I promise I will never love Your Highness.”
If he didn’t believe in love or marriage, it would be troublesome if emotions developed during a contract marriage—even laughable.
Seeing the sincerity shining in her eyes, Dimidius nodded.
“You certainly have resolve. Very well. How long shall we set the term?”
“At most, five months. Any longer would be difficult.”
She’d likely spend that time searching for her inheritance and planning how to use that vast sum of money. And somewhere in between, she’d need to provide Dimidius with divine power as well.
Walking again, Dimidius spoke.
“Then I’ll have to find someone else to supply me with divine power within five months.”
“That’s right. Can you handle Marquis Luxes?”
“What do you take me for? You don’t need to worry about that. I’ll handle it myself.”
She liked the confidence in his answer. With Count Hermil, she hadn’t even been able to bring the topic up and had only fretted in silence.
Orelentia quickened her pace, stepped in front of him, and held out her hand.
“A handshake. We’re entering a very important contract—at least a handshake is in order.”
Dimidius stopped and firmly clasped her hand.
“I’m quite pleased. I’ll be able to store divine power in my body.”
“Already starting?”
“Isn’t it good to be faithful to the contract?”
With no retort, Orelentia simply shook his hand up and down, thus sealing their agreement.
