Chapter 1
He Was a Dangerous Man
He was a dangerous man.
A man whose true self could never be seen. Kind, yes—but he never revealed his heart, nor where he lived, nor who he truly was. And yet, he was the man Larienne had come to love—Sir Verner.
All she really knew about him was that he was a merchant.
Today was the day he had promised to come pick up the goods he had ordered.
From the moment she woke up, Larienne’s heart had been pounding, and her cheeks kept turning red without her even realizing it.
She reminded herself she needed to focus on work, not on him. But just thinking of Verner made her cheeks flush pink, and her busy hands slowed without her meaning to.
“No, stop it. Get a hold of yourself.”
Larienne pressed her cool palms against her hot cheeks and shook her head.
She had just been checking over the newly delivered pottery when she heard the voice of Hans, the merchant guild master.
“Lari, today goods are coming in from Miola. Display them nicely, and we’ll decide the prices after I look over the accounts.”
Hans was heading out to a business meeting, leaving Larienne to handle things.
“Yes, Master Hans. I’ll take care of everything,” she replied brightly.
The pottery shop was already bustling even before opening hours. Today, long-delayed shipments of Miola ceramics were finally arriving.
On days when colorful new pottery came in, Larienne couldn’t help feeling a secret thrill.
These are sure to make money. If only I could have secured the exclusive selling rights…
But that decision wasn’t hers to make.
She was only an employee, after all. And besides, she had already heard that another count’s family had claimed those rights.
Still, she smiled faintly as she imagined what the new pieces would look like.
Among the first customers expected this morning was none other than Sir Verner.
It had been about a year since he started coming to the guild as a customer.
Their first meeting already felt long ago, yet the moment they grew close had been sudden.
Just then, a familiar voice called out.
“Lady Larienne, has my order arrived?”
It was Verner. He approached her quickly, smiling brightly, his dark eyes shining warmly.
With his tall figure and brown hair, he looked at her so gently that she froze for a moment before forcing herself back to her senses. His gaze was so sweet that her own eyes softened without her realizing it.
Verner was a regular customer of the Maen Guild. He often visited, buying various items and picking up commercial information.
What was odd was that he ordered many different types of goods, not just one.
And though he called himself a merchant, Larienne had no idea where his shop was—or even where he lived.
Perhaps he was running some kind of large-scale trade across many regions.
“Sir Verner, you’re here already. I was just about to bring your order from the warehouse.”
Larienne was glad he had arrived just in time to see the new Miola pottery.
While she went to the warehouse, Verner glanced around the shop. Brightly colored ceramics lined the shelves, along with many other goods—the guild was one of the largest in the capital, after all.
For someone like him, it was not only a place to buy things, but also a useful source of information.
But suddenly, he sensed something unusual. A faint rustling sound—quiet, yet hostile. His expression hardened.
So it begins again. On a day like this… Have they finally discovered my true identity?
There was only Larienne and himself in the shop. Normally, his guards would be nearby, but today—foolishly—he had entered alone.
His hand went to the sword at his waist.
“Enough. Show yourself.”
His cold, low voice filled the air.
Whoever it was, they must have sent an elite assassin this time. The tension grew heavier, the air colder.
“Lady Larienne, stay in the warehouse. Don’t come out!” he shouted, hoping she would hear.
A knife flew toward him. He twisted his shoulder just in time—the blade only grazed his sleeve.
A masked assassin revealed himself.
Verner grabbed one of the displayed ceramics and hurled it toward the shadowy figure. The crash echoed through the shop, but the assassin dodged.
Verner drew his sword, angling it so the reflected light from the window would send a signal outside. His guards should see it. They had to.
Meanwhile, Larienne was still in the warehouse, searching for the other item Verner had ordered.
Found it.
A glowing purple topaz. It wasn’t like his usual orders of pottery or everyday goods, so she had found it odd, but hadn’t asked questions.
She carefully gathered it with the certificate of authenticity, then rushed out of the warehouse.
But what she saw froze her. The shop was a wreck, broken pottery scattered everywhere.
Verner stood in the middle, sword drawn, his expression grave.
“Sir Verner! What on earth happened?” she cried, eyes wide.
“Back to the warehouse—quickly! It’s dangerous here!”
She hesitated. She couldn’t just leave him. But before she could act, an arrow shot straight toward Verner’s chest.
“No!”
Without thinking, Larienne dropped everything and lunged toward him, pushing him aside.
The arrow grazed her shoulder instead.
Pain flared, sharp and burning, but at least it hadn’t struck his heart—he had deflected part of it with his sword.
Guards burst into the shop at last.
It’s just a scratch… I’m fine. Thank goodness Sir Verner wasn’t hurt.
Her vision blurred. She felt faint.
“It’s poison—she’s been hit by a poisoned arrow! Treat her immediately!” someone shouted.
Even in her foggy mind, Larienne realized. So this is how I die…?
Her eyes filled with tears. She hadn’t even raised the ransom to free her mother yet. But as her vision dimmed, all she could see was Verner’s face.
His eyes were bloodshot, his lips twisted in anguish.
“Lari… there’s something I haven’t told you. I must see you again. I will save you.”
He held her close, his shoulders shaking.
She had never seen him cry before.
Sir Verner… who are you really? Why do they want you dead?
With those unanswered questions, Larienne’s eyes closed.
***
Her body felt heavy, stiff. She could barely lift herself from the bed.
Dizzy, she stared blankly at the ceiling above her. She was in her own room.
Somehow, she had survived.
Morning sunlight streamed through the window. Then—a knock at her door.
An unexpected figure stepped inside: the Hennessy Countess. Her mother.
“Mother! How—? Did you get released?”
Larienne gasped, eyes wide.
The Countess looked even more surprised.
“Released? What are you talking about, child? Why are you speaking as if I’ve been away?”
“You were imprisoned… because of Father…”
Larienne stopped mid-sentence.
“Then—Father is alive too?”
The Countess nodded, frowning in confusion.
“Of course. He’s at the Marquis of Haness’s estate today, about business matters.”
She sighed deeply.
Larienne’s eyes widened. She was alive.
Her mother was free. Her father was alive.
Somehow… she had returned.
