MILWTG 66

~Chapter 66~

“That’s enough.”

“I wasn’t done yet—well, I hadn’t finished yet.”

“What?”

“You see…”

Riden trailed after him, murmuring under her breath.

“I read something in a book.”

“The estate management manual?”

“No. The Secrets of the Sacred Touch – A Complete Compendium of Siraka, the God of Healing.”

At that, Ethan stopped walking again.

“And?”

Seeing his sudden interest, Riden hurried around to face him.

“It said some of Siraka’s disciples could discern illnesses just by looking into someone’s eyes.”

“Hm, is that so?”

“Yes!”

Riden clasped her hands together.

“Our engagement may be broken, but I still have the Duchess’s request to consider. Wouldn’t it be best to try whatever I can?”

“And?”

Ethan lightly tapped her forehead with a finger.

“Did you see anything in there?”

“…No, I didn’t.”

Riden’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. Ethan crossed his arms arrogantly.

“That’s strange. I did.”

“…What?”

There’s nothing in my head to see, though.

“I saw a young lady who, the moment the social season opened, would meet the man she loved, marry him, and promptly prepare to move down to the Count’s estate.”

“Oh.”

“And if I had to guess, the groom she desires would hold a title lower than hers—or be the younger son of a noble house. After all, she clearly has no intention of moving to her husband’s lands, only to the Count’s.”

Chillingly accurate.

Of course, where he said “marriage” and “younger son,” she would have substituted “love affair” and “commoner lover,” but still.

Riden quickly covered her eyes with both hands as if drawing a curtain.

“From now on, can we agree to face forward while talking? That was kind of terrifying.”

Ethan gave a low chuckle.

“I feel the same. Do you know how unnerving it is to be stared at like you can see right through me, only to be told you saw nothing?”

“You call my efforts to fulfill my responsibilities frightening? Just sit for a moment, will you? I want to try one more thing.”

“…”

“There’s a bench right there.”

Riden tugged at his collar and pointed toward it.

“And now what?”

“I want to try the healing method from Chapter 3.”

Had she been sober, she might have approached this more cautiously. But tipsy Riden had no such reservations.

She glanced around before leaning in close, lowering her voice.

“It just… involves holding hands.”

Ethan looked down at the hand tugging on his jacket.

“Outside?”

“Yes.”

Of course.

Ethan swept his eyes carelessly around their surroundings before speaking flatly,

“Let’s go to my room.”

Riden’s hand dropped at once.

She could feel her ears—rarely prone to flushing—turning scarlet.

“Are you drunk?”

In a dark corner of the unlit garden, Samantha lowered her telescope.

She had just locked eyes with Ethan through the lens, and her voice was laced with exasperation as she muttered to Merrick,

“Your brother looks displeased.”

She was enduring all of this for his sake, and even when the stage was set, he couldn’t manage anything? Pathetic.

Beside her, Merrick also set his telescope down.

“Mother, shall we stop watching? Few people would find it easy to be romantic with their mother and brother observing from the shadows.”

Just then, a drunken soldier staggered toward Ethan and Riden from behind.

And the mood was finally improving…

Samantha gestured sharply.

Ssst!

The knight order’s finest marksman struck the soldier with a prepared tranquilizer dart.

The man swayed for a moment, then collapsed soundlessly.

Samantha raised the telescope again.

She watched as their operatives dragged the unconscious soldier away without a trace.

“If he can’t make progress with all the effort his mother and brother are putting in, he’s no man at all. Don’t you agree?”

Merrick hesitated to answer.

Samantha pursed her lips and changed the subject.

“The flowerpot—has it been prepared properly?”

Merrick had placed an ordinary olive tree near Riden.

The plan was to swap it later for a much larger, healthier tree.

If she believed the plant had flourished because of her, wouldn’t she be tempted to test the ability on a person as well?

Whether or not she truly had such powers didn’t matter.

What mattered was that she tried.

“Yes, Mother.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll have to summon her to my office.”

Honestly, why is he like that?

Riden toyed with her pen, her brow furrowed.

Last night, her plan to try the healing method she had read about had been entirely derailed.

“Are you drunk?”

“No.”

“Then why would you mention your room?”

“Would you rather we do this outside?”

“We’re only holding hands!”

“I get it. But someone could see us outside, so let’s go inside.”

“There’s no one around—why go inside?!”

And that was the end of that.

She understood his reasoning, but she hadn’t had the courage to step into his room after that exchange.

Why does he have to say things like that!

Even if she had been drunk, Riden wasn’t the type to do something so reckless.

Ugh, I never should have had that wine.

Thanks to that, she hadn’t even been able to try. And it wasn’t as if she was doing it for herself.

Flustered, she sighed sharply, and Victoria asked,

“Did something happen, my lady?”

“No, nothing. Thank you for asking.”

“Thank me? Not at all.”

Riden stretched languidly.

It seemed another day just like the last would pass.

She would study estate management manuals in her office to prepare for the future, occasionally watch the training grounds, and browse the bookshelves again.

But was it really fine to stay cloistered in her office all the time?

What are the Duchess and the Count doing, I wonder?

Ethan was likely at the barracks.

Since her arrival at the ducal mansion, the Duchess had not once sought her out beyond their initial greeting.

If anything, that made Riden anxious.

She cautiously asked Victoria,

“What does the Duchess usually do during the day?”

At the mention of the Duchess, the previously quiet Victoria smiled faintly.

“She is always busy, but these days she’s utterly consumed with preparations for the opening ball.”

Thanks to the Duchess, Sunset Cream’s desserts were selling at a staggering rate.

Of course, their popularity wouldn’t be so fleeting because Riden had worked hard, but still—without the Duchess’s influence, their success would have been far less dramatic.

That was part of why she was here, to repay that debt.

One day, I’ll probably have to host a ball myself.

It would be invaluable to learn from the Duchess by assisting her now.

And for some reason, Riden couldn’t stop picturing the Duchess’s face lighting up in a bright smile when she arrived.

No, wait.

That’s just because I’m her “tranquilizer,” and it’s conditional! Conditional!

Riden was steadying her wavering resolve when Victoria quietly suggested,

“If you’re curious, you’re welcome to visit anytime. I’m sure she would welcome you.”

Riden’s eyes flickered.

Riden peeked around a corner at the Duchess’s office.

The large, imposing doors, which should have been shut, stood wide open. Only a doorman remained at his post.

It was natural; people would be constantly coming and going as they prepared for the ball.

It looks so busy… I should just leave.

“Are you just going to leave?”

“Eek!”

She spun around with a scream as a shadow appeared behind her.

“Oh dear!”

Merrick, dropping the documents he was holding, caught the staggering Riden.

His expression was full of concern as he asked,

“Forgive me, my lady. I should have been more cautious, knowing how delicate you are… Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I was just startled, that’s all.”

“You don’t look well to me. You should lie down.”

“W-what? No, I really am fine… truly, I am.”

Merrick glanced around like a paramedic seeking the nearest aid station.

“The infirmary is too far. For now!”

“Wait, Count—?”

Before she knew it, Riden had been all but ushered into the Duchess’s office.

The Duchess’s office was structured in two parts.

Upon entering, one first encountered a reception room, followed by a wide arched corridor that led to the main office.

“Uh… hello?”

At the sight of Riden and Merrick, everyone busily shuffling documents paused in surprise.

The Duchess greeted Riden with a warm expression and a nod.

Merrick guided her to a large sofa in the reception room.

“You must be dizzy. Please, lie down. The lady fainted from dizziness! Fetch Norman!”

“Yes, young master.”

The attendants scattered instantly at the order.

Riden, lying on the sofa as instructed, looked uncomfortable.

“I really am fi—”

Merrick raised a firm hand, and Riden closed her mouth.

“My heart won’t rest easy unless you are properly examined. I don’t wish to pressure you, but if you stand up without being seen by Norman, I fear I’ll be too distracted by the thought of you collapsing like you did at the villa.”

He’s really going this far?

“…Then I’ll stay put for a while.”

“Thank you.”

As Merrick remained by her side, Riden lightly tapped the sofa next to her.

“Instead of staying here with me, could you perhaps attend to your work? Norman will be here soon anyway.”

“Of course. Then, excuse me.”

With a bright smile, Merrick stepped away.

He approached Samantha and whispered softly in her ear,

“Only work as usual so the young lady can become interested of her own accord. Don’t approach her first.”

“Understood.”

Oblivious to their exchange, Riden lay back on the long sofa, craning her neck slightly to peek toward the main office.