Chapter 47
“I was concerned about the Viscount’s health and took the liberty of visiting. Thank you for receiving me despite the sudden call.”
Though his greeting was courteous, Kargo couldn’t hide his displeasure. The reason was simple—Pierre was the emperor’s hound and the official responsible for the case in which Kargo was listed as a suspect.
Most of all, hadn’t all this trouble started after Cecilia visited the Grand Duke’s residence? To Kargo, Pierre was no better than a poisonous flower—beautiful but harmful, beguiling people with his parasitic charm.
As a father, such a man represented everything he hated: weak in practical life and a source of hardship for his woman.
Kargo, his mind full of these thoughts, continued with a sour expression.
“I do appreciate your concern for my health, but I regret that I’ve had to show such a personal side of myself to Your Grace.”
It was a firm boundary. Truthfully, he wanted to knock Pierre down man-to-man for making his daughter suffer, but picking a fight with a grand duke would only bring unnecessary trouble.
So instead, he intended to subtly chase Pierre away and keep him away from Cecilia. Just as he was about to say more, Pierre replied with a warm smile.
“I’m not here today as a grand duke, so there’s no need to worry on that account.”
Kargo raised a suspicious eyebrow.
“…So you’re saying you’re not here in an official capacity?”
“Yes. Please treat me comfortably—as Cecilia’s friend.”
Cold sweat trickled down Cecilia’s back. She hadn’t thought it necessary for Pierre to go that far and was about to stop him, but her father moved first.
“Refusing an offer would be rude. Then, as you say, let’s treat you ‘comfortably.’ Olga!”
At Kargo’s call, Olga appeared, and Kargo continued with a chilling look.
“Treat him well—as my daughter’s friend.”
✧ ✧ ✧
The Niberius family had long rooted themselves in the mercenary trade. After completing any major job, they always gathered to drink and care for each other like family, forming a tightly knit community.
Cecilia, having grown up in that environment, knew well: though her uncles were endlessly kind to her, among themselves, they were the epitome of macho.
Even Leo, despite his youth, was never spared. Watching anxiously, Cecilia glanced at Pierre.
Thanks to his “I’m just her friend” statement, he’d created an opening with her wary father and uncles. And like fish in water, her uncles used this excuse to drag Pierre off to the training ground, under the pretext of introducing the Niberius household.
“This is where most of our swordsmanship training and physical conditioning takes place.”
Cecilia nervously observed the two men. Pierre, completely unaware of her anxiety, looked relaxed. Her uncles, on the other hand, exchanged glances and then spoke.
“Since you’ve come all this way, why not have a friendly match?”
When Pierre asked with interest, “A match?” her uncles flexed their arms and continued.
“A real man needs strength and wisdom to protect the ones he loves. And nothing beats a test of strength.”
At Olga’s signal, Hestik stepped forward, his muscular arms bulging.
“How about an arm-wrestling match?”
Unable to take it anymore, Cecilia burst out.
“Uncles!”
Despite her protest, the uncles stared at Pierre smugly.
Grand Duke Gardinand looked like he had never worked out a day in his life. With his refined looks, he seemed more suited to holding a lady’s hand than a sword. He looked like he smelled more of ink than sweat.
Sure, he was tall and well-built, but nothing compared to seasoned mercenaries who trained and fought daily.
Thinking that Pierre would reject their challenge out of concern for his dignity, Olga expected the Grand Duke to refuse. But even if he did, they’d still count it as a win—an intimidation success.
Just as they were congratulating themselves for their cleverness and getting ready to humiliate the man who troubled their niece…
Pierre smiled casually and said, “Sounds fun. I’m in.”
“…What?”
As he spoke, Pierre calmly unbuttoned his jacket and handed it to Cecilia, who was still flustered.
“Don’t worry. I won’t push myself too hard.”
Cecilia nodded quickly, flustered by his overly gentle tone. It almost felt like they were a real couple.
His attitude only fueled her uncles’ enthusiasm.
“Hestik! Show him what a real mercenary feels like!”
“Waaaah! Yes, sir!”
While Hestik roared with energy, Pierre simply smiled, calm as ever.
They sat across from each other with a table in between. As they grasped hands, Hestik flinched.
Contrary to his delicate appearance, Pierre’s arm was packed with firm muscle. As he flexed, thick, defined muscles rippled beneath his skin.
Caught off guard by the unexpected strength, Hestik hesitated—and the moment the match began, Pierre pushed his hand down without hesitation.
Bang! Hestik’s hand slammed into the table.
He blinked, confused about what had just happened, while the other mercenaries began murmuring in surprise.
“Victory to Grand Duke Gardinand!”
At the declaration, everyone stood frozen, stunned. Cecilia looked at him with newfound eyes.
She had known Pierre was a better swordsman than expected—but didn’t imagine he’d have the grip strength to overpower Hestik.
A few more uncles tried their luck after that. Pierre beat four more in a row and only lost after facing the fifth.
He gently rotated his wrist with a smile.
“You all are incredibly strong. I couldn’t keep up.”
“……”
Pierre had already defeated several uncles, including Hestik, their best arm-wrestler, leading to a complete rout.
Cecilia thought her uncles must be badly bruised in pride. But then Pierre spoke smoothly.
“I see now why the Niberius mercenaries are known for their strength and discipline.”
Hestik looked up and grumbled.
“What does it matter? I still lost.”
“I’ve trained with swords heavier than my own weight since I was young. I’m quite confident in arm-wrestling. I wouldn’t have won if this had been another kind of match.”
“……”
Pierre extended his hand to the slumped Hestik. After a moment’s pause, Hestik took it. Pierre smiled.
“Just as you said, it’s nice to clash man-to-man.”
Though Pierre had asked them to treat him not as a noble but as Cecilia’s friend, her uncles thought it was just polite talk. But the way he spoke respectfully to the mercenaries and treated them as Cecilia’s family melted their suspicion.
Before long, the uncles began gathering around Pierre. They asked about his training regimen and started offering to show him their weapon stores.
With his sleeves rolled up, Pierre blended surprisingly well with the group. Cecilia, watching from a short distance, couldn’t help but admire him.
She hadn’t expected Pierre to adapt so easily to her uncles’ macho world. Every time he mentioned the nobility’s way of life, she thought he’d struggle in the opposite setting—but he proved her wrong.
He really was something.
She looked over at Pierre, still smiling gently as he chatted with her uncles.
She’d felt it at the last party too—but Pierre’s courteous public face always felt like someone else’s.
To her, he had once seemed cold and unfeeling. How nice it would’ve been if he had treated her that kindly from the start.
“…Still, that’s how I came to recognize his joking face, his angry face, and his truly smiling one.”
Cecilia silently watched Pierre, who now blended into her family like part of the scenery.
