They weren’t asking me to sign a contract myself.
Instead, I was to retrieve a signature.
From the person who would be signing a contract with Dielo Argentta.
“This is…”
A contract bearing the head of the house’s name was bound to be important. Was it really okay to show it to someone who would soon be leaving?
“This is a contract that will be signed today by someone who is leaving for another estate,” Pielle explained briefly as I looked over the contract.
“It’s a magical contract meant to prevent former Argentta members from disclosing any of the family’s secrets once they leave the territory.”
“So things like this exist…”
I wondered if Houses Allozé or Cartiel had anything like it. I’d never heard of such a thing before.
“The person who will sign the contract is already waiting. All you need to do is witness the signing.”
Pielle’s tone was light, as though it were no big deal.
“Alright,” I nodded eventually.
As if she’d been waiting for that, Pielle bowed slightly.
“Shall we go now?”
What? They’re already waiting?
Then there was no need to delay. The longer I put it off, the more annoying it would be.
“…!”
But as I walked, reviewing the contract, I suddenly froze.
Pielle turned to look at me.
“My lady?”
I raised a hand to stop her. “Hold on.”
[From this point forward, Mirta, who relinquishes the name of Argentta, shall be unable to disclose anything regarding the house of Argentta.
Should Mirta attempt to do so, a burning thirst will afflict their throat as a warning.
If they proceed to speak despite this, the head of house, Dielo Argentta, shall be made aware through the contract.]
So far, this seemed fairly standard.
But the next part caught my eye.
[At that moment, the head’s flames shall personally burn them, and the surroundings as well. Be warned.]
“The head’s flames, personally…”
I muttered softly.
This was definitely a magical contract—it had a distinctly different texture than ordinary paper.
[Head of House: Dielo Argentta]
He hadn’t signed it yet.
I just needed to get Mirta’s signature and then hand it over to Dielo.
“Are contracts like this common?”
Pielle shook her head slightly.
“Not common, but they do happen from time to time. Of course, I’ve almost never seen anyone break one.”
I let out a small sigh, almost involuntarily.
It was hard to imagine Dielo ever burning someone.
“This is a tradition of House Argentta, right?”
“Yes.”
It didn’t feel like something Dielo would do, honestly.
I nodded and followed Pielle into a room.
“Ah, my lady. It’s an honor to meet you. I’m Mirta.”
The person preparing to leave was a man with short brown hair.
He bowed politely to me, then glanced nervously at the contract in my hand.
“I didn’t think I’d be the one signing that.”
“You know how to sign it, right, Mirta?”
Pielle placed the document in front of him and offered a small bow.
Then she placed a quill pen before him—without ink.
Where’s the ink?
I was about to ask when—
Clink.
A dagger was placed beside the pen.
Wait, seriously…?
Just as I opened my mouth in surprise, Mirta pulled the dagger toward his hand.
“Ah…”
That must hurt.
A bead of blood formed quickly where the blade touched his fingertip.
Apparently, he needed to use his own blood as ink. He made a slightly deep cut and dipped the quill.
“If you break your vow, you’ll return here,” Pielle said. “Though I trust that won’t happen.”
As she spoke, she held a paper doll shaped like a person.
The moment it caught my eye—
Whoosh!
Flames ignited at the bottom of the doll.
“Ah—”
Startled, I instinctively stepped back.
Maybe it was the flickering light, but Mirta’s face seemed a bit pale.
The doll’s feet blackened and crumbled into ash as its twisted shape burned away.
“Mirta, remember your vow.”
Pielle let the paper doll fall.
Then, one by one, the flames spread to the other paper dolls on the silver tray.
“…Understood.”
With a tense expression, Mirta signed the contract.
By the time he finished, the dolls had all burned to ash.
“Thank you for witnessing. It was an honor to meet you, even briefly, my lady.”
He bowed respectfully to me.
Even leaving Argentta, he remained unfailingly polite.
I looked at him and asked,
“But why are you leaving Argentta?”
Someone so courteous—why would he leave?
Mirta paused before replying.
“…My wife’s parents are ill and live in the region we’re going to. She wishes to be with them for their final days.”
“Ah…”
If they were sick, bringing them to Argentta wouldn’t have been easy.
I understood now.
“Take good care of him, Pielle.”
“Of course.”
She bowed gracefully and added gently,
“And I hope only good news comes your way, Mirta.”
A soft smile appeared on her face.
“…Thank you.”
Mirta gave a deep bow and left the room.
I looked at the contract, now signed in his blood, and picked it up.
This was clearly a private matter of House Argentta.
It felt strange—like I had interfered in something an outsider shouldn’t be part of.
“Mirta used to serve His Grace personally,” Pielle said on our way back to Dielo’s office.
Ah…
He had been Dielo’s attendant.
So Dielo must have been quite attached to him.
And knowing his personality, he likely hated enforcing such a cruel contract.
Knock knock.
Just as I reached that conclusion, we arrived at Dielo’s office.
“Your Grace, we’ve brought the contract,” Pielle announced.
His reply came immediately.
“Ah, come in.”
That low, gentle voice—definitely Dielo’s.
And judging by the way he spoke casually, he probably didn’t expect me to be the one bringing it.
When I peeked through the door holding the contract, Dielo flinched.
“…Croa?”
Seeing him caught off guard made me want to tease him.
I waved the magical contract and placed it before him.
“I’ve brought the magical contract.”
Was this what gave him such confidence last night?
That there would be no betrayal within Argentta?
While I was half-lost in thought, Dielo parted his lips slightly.
“…Ah, thank you for getting it so quickly, Croa.”
He examined the document carefully, then retrieved a dagger from his drawer.
“Ah…!”
I was the only one who let out a surprised sound.
Though Dielo winced as the blade cut into his fingertip, he made no noise.
Drip.
He let the blood fall onto the quill and signed the contract. Then he pressed his finger with a white handkerchief.
Red bloomed on the fabric.
Looking down at the contract, Dielo’s expression stiffened slightly.
Of course—it couldn’t have been easy.
His eyes lingered on the clause about the head personally burning the betrayer.
“…I heard that person used to be your attendant,” I said quietly.
“Yes,” Dielo replied, his voice a bit subdued.
Looking up at me, he gave a faint, regretful smile.
“It’s a shame. Truly.”
His gaze drifted toward the window.
The contract, now signed with both parties’ blood, was being consumed in a blue flame.
I knew instinctively—that flame meant the contract had taken effect.
“By now, he’s probably already in the carriage,” Dielo murmured.
Per tradition, once the contract was signed, the person had to leave immediately.
He stood there, lips pressed into a firm line, unable to look away from the window.
So I gently patted his shoulder.
“Honestly, I was a bit worried about possible traitors yesterday—but you said it too, didn’t you? That there wouldn’t be any.”
He looked back at me.
I gave him a soft smile.
“Betrayal doesn’t come easy. You have to be sure you’ll succeed before you even attempt it.”
For a moment, Dielo didn’t say anything.
Then he returned my smile—his usual, gentle kind.
“You’re right.”
He wrapped his hand around mine, which was still resting on his shoulder.
And then he lifted it and placed a kiss on the back of it.
A warm sensation spread across my skin.
“Thank you for comforting me, Croa.”
Then he whispered,
“See you tonight.”
With that, it really did feel like we were newlyweds.
I glanced at his desk.
Judging by the mountain of work piled up, it looked like tonight was our only option.
I patted his shoulder again and left the room.
Sigh… this man’s soft heart might be a problem down the road.
I knew he was capable from the original novel, but I hadn’t realized just how emotional he could be.
The road ahead would be a long one.
