“Pan, how long have I been asleep?”
“About twelve hours,” he replied.
Clea’s expression turned to one of dismay at the answer.
Twelve hours? That meant the morning had long since passed.
“You came back pretty drunk last night,” Pan added.
Clea made a strange face, unsure whether to laugh or cry.
It was true she’d had alcohol, but to say she was drunk felt inaccurate—she hadn’t even had a proper sip.
Getting drunk off one sip? That makes no sense.
She had barely begun the second half of the year, and already her condition was a mess.
Granted, the liquor she drank last night was absurdly strong.
“I’ll just say it was my chronic illness.”
She definitely needed to manage that stamina gauge more closely.
It wasn’t necessary while she was lying in bed or moving around inside the house, but once she stepped outside, her stamina gauge was her literal lifeline.
“Call the maid. I need to go out.”
“I’ll accompany you.”
“…You?”
“Yes. I don’t have anything to do in the house, so may I serve you?”
Clea hesitated at Pan’s offer.
As a noble, it wasn’t ideal to walk around alone in her condition.
If I collapse, could he even carry me?
She slowly scanned the boy’s body.
Anyone could see his soft arms had no muscle. He was nothing like Isaac, whom she’d embraced last night.
“I’m stronger than I look. I was the one who carried you to bed yesterday,” Pan said brightly, as if reading her mind. A glow seemed to shine behind his smiling face.
Indeed, for someone labeled a slave, he had a truly striking appearance.
“Really?”
“Yes. Please use me.”
Clea looked away from the kneeling boy gazing up at her.
There was nothing wrong with it, yet she couldn’t shake a sense of unease. He was just too obedient.
It’s like he chose to be a slave.
Though of course, that couldn’t possibly be true.
“Then stop calling me ‘Master.’ Call me Clea.”
“Yes, Lady Clea.”
He adapted quickly.
Faster than flipping a coin.
She had planned to visit the Grand Duke’s estate early in the morning, but now the sun was already high in the sky.
“Hurry and fetch the maid. And have the carriage waiting out front.”
“Yes, Lady Clea,” Pan answered with a sunny smile and left the room.
Clea let out a deep sigh. It was already shaping up to be a tiring day.
Still, her stamina was full, and that alone made her feel more refreshed than usual.
Meanwhile
Stacks of paperwork had piled up while Isaac had been away at war. Buried in them, he wore a tired expression as he flipped through documents.
Every so often, he would check the pocket watch by his side or glance out the window.
Eventually, Denver, the butler serving beside him, could no longer ignore his behavior.
“Master.”
“Yes?”
“Do you have an appointment or something?”
“No… why do you ask?”
Why else?
He kept looking outside, then at the documents, and then back to the clock.
Denver managed his expression and shook his head.
It was clear his master was waiting for someone. But since Isaac denied it, Denver couldn’t very well shout, “Yes, you are!”
Instead, he quietly replaced Isaac’s cold tea with a fresh cup.
And Isaac glanced at the time once again.
So she’s not coming?
He let out a short sigh.
Last night had felt like a dream.
The terms of the deal were clearly disadvantageous to Clea Rino.
He finally closed his pocket watch and set it down on the desk.
Knock, knock.
A knock at the door.
When Isaac gave permission to enter, a maid stepped in.
She lowered her head slightly and stood at the center of the office.
“Acting Countess Clea Rino is here to see you, Your Grace.”
“…What?”
Isaac asked again in disbelief.
The maid, startled, quickly repeated herself, checking mentally to see if she had misspoken.
Finding nothing wrong with her message, she spoke again.
“Acting Countess Clea Rino is here.”
“Clea Rino?”
“Yes, she said she has an appointment with Your Grace and would like to meet.”
This time, she said it more firmly.
Still, Isaac looked like he couldn’t believe it.
She had said she would come in the morning, but now it was well past noon, nearing late afternoon.
“…Your Grace? If you didn’t have an appointment, shall I ask her to leave?”
“No, I’ll go down right away.”
Isaac set aside the papers and stood up.
He threw on his jacket and walked out of the office. The entrance wasn’t far from his first-floor study.
Clea, now wearing a deep violet dress, looked quite mysterious.
Her fair skin contrasted beautifully with the dark color, making her emerald eyes stand out even more.
Behind her stood a boy in ragged clothes—different from yesterday.
As Isaac approached, Clea turned her head toward him.
“I thought you had changed your mind.”
“No, I just overslept. I’m sorry for being late.”
“Is that your attendant?”
“For now… he’s a slave.”
Clea hadn’t been able to dissuade Pan, who refused both the role of servant and the clothes offered to him, insisting on remaining a slave.
Isaac’s brow furrowed.
“…A slave?”
“Yes.”
The atmosphere shifted slightly. Clea nodded, gauging his mood.
Isaac’s brow creased even deeper. He glanced between Clea and Pan before sighing.
“Have you eaten?”
“No, I had to rush out and didn’t have time.”
“If you’re okay with it, let’s eat.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
Isaac led the way to the dining room, with Clea silently following him and Pan trailing behind her.
Soon, Clea stopped.
“Pan, wait in the carriage.”
“But… Master…”
“Go on.”
“Alright.”
Pan bowed his head low and retreated.
Watching his dejected figure, Clea sighed.
I really don’t get him.
Why did he insist on being a slave?
“I heard rumors that you buy slaves, but I didn’t think they were true.”
“That sounds like disappointment.”
“Slavery is practically abolished now.”
Clea nodded.
In truth, this was one of the real Clea Rino’s hobbies.
I should try to earn some points.
She didn’t need love—just enough affection to keep things going.
And that meant she shouldn’t displease him.
“I got rid of them to marry you.”
“…What?”
“I burned all the slave contracts and freed them with money. Pan insisted on staying even after being freed.”
Isaac was at a loss for words.
Her calm words sounded like a confession—but rather than feeling touched, he felt uneasy.
To marry me…?
His red eyes filled with suspicion as he looked at her back.
Once they sat at the table, the kitchen staff began bringing out the meal.
Clea quietly watched as the dishes were set before her.
“Ah, by the way, where’s the notary?”
“He’s been here since noon. Now he’s locked in a room working on the paperwork.”
“I feel bad about that,” Clea said with an awkward expression.
If waking up late was a crime, then she was definitely guilty.
But waking time was not something she could control.
When she was tired, she simply drifted into an unknown darkness, where time passed without her awareness—until her eyelids opened on their own.
“Is there anything from yesterday’s discussion you want to change or add?”
Isaac asked. Clea thought about it for a moment.
There was nothing to add.
Finally, she nodded.
“No. Let’s write it up just as we discussed.”
“…Alright.”
Isaac responded in a somewhat reluctant voice.
