CHAPTER 53………………………

Here’s the English translation of your text:

Episode 53

Scrrratch—.

A very faint sound of fingernails scraping against the door.

‘She’s here.’

He had told her to come anytime—this very afternoon.

Pantheon rose from his seat.

Slowly, carefully, he opened the door.

As expected, the person he had been waiting for was there. Suppressing the smile tugging at his lips, he stepped back.

“I’ve been waiting.”

Pantheon said as he let the woman at the door into the room.

Her smooth, wheat-colored hair dipped gently as she bowed.

“Odor Helione. I greet His Highness, Francis’s First Prince.”

At the etiquette he had never seen in the marquisate, a smile naturally formed on Pantheon’s lips.

“It’s late at night, so I cannot even offer you a cup of tea.”

“It’s alright. It is an honor just to be summoned like this.”

“Please, sit. Baroness Odor.”

Pantheon guided her to the seat across from where he had been sitting.

All afternoon, Pantheon had been waiting for this woman.

He had deliberately wandered around the marquis estate garden and struck up a conversation with Adamas, stirring up a small commotion so she would come to find him.

“Were you reading a storybook?”

“It’s not just a simple fairy tale.”

Pantheon tapped the cover of the book he had been reading with his long, slender fingers.

A lion with golden claws, standing at a crossroads, seen from behind.

The book he had been reading was “The Tale of the Three Golden Lion Brothers.”

A brief silence passed. Looking at her lowered amber eyes, Pantheon spoke.

“Baroness Odor. There is something I wish to ask you.”

“Please command me.”

“I want to know the situation in the capital.”

“It seems there is nothing out of the ordinary.”

“…Ha, nothing out of the ordinary? What about His Majesty the Emperor—!”

“He is doing well without issue.”

“That can’t be…!”

“Your Highness?”

“Ah, no. What about rumors in high society regarding the Duchess of Kref? Are there none?”

“As you know, since my husband’s passing, I have already withdrawn from high society.”

“…Even so, someone in business wouldn’t be unaware of rumors.”

If anything, wouldn’t she be even more attuned to them?

As he said that, Pantheon coldly scanned Helione from head to toe.

Odor Helione.

She was the wife of Baron Odor Aoro, a former economic administrator of the imperial court.

Aoro, originally a commoner, had earned recognition for his abilities and received a barony from the Emperor.

Five summers ago, during heavy rain, he had gone to inspect the site of a new imperial villa and died in a carriage accident.

“Your husband was an upright man; you must have suffered greatly.”

She had already been the wife of a commoner-turned-baron. Left alone, and without much wealth.

With the compensation money from her husband’s death, she bought a horse and carriage. She started by transporting goods for money, later moved into wholesale trade, and now had become the head of a respectable merchant company.

I should have realized sooner she was clever. Back then, five years ago…

Pantheon smacked his lips bitterly and asked:

“What about talk of me and Stefan? Have you heard nothing? Even small rumors will do!”

Seeing Pantheon’s impatience, Helione carefully chose her words.

“Regarding Your Highness…”

“Why are you trailing off? Speak properly.”

“There was a brief rumor in July that a fire broke out in the Crown Prince’s palace and that Your Highness suffered burns, preventing you from attending official duties…”

“But?”

“I believed it was just a rumor.”

“Why did you think that?”

“Because Lady Fior of the Count’s family denied it.”

“Why would she—!”

The County of Fior, known for its outstanding natural scenery in the Francis Empire.

Located in the west, it was famous for lakes formed by the melting snow of the Fior mountain range.

Even in midsummer, temperatures stayed around 25°C, so most nobles had their summer villas there.

Pantheon often vacationed there. And Fior Rephemia, the second daughter of Count Fior, whom he met there, was widely rumored in high society to be practically his lover.

“That foolish woman—what exactly did she say?!”

“She said Your Highness was staying with her at the imperial summer villa in Fior…”

“Go on.”

“At the Duke of Kref’s recent birthday banquet, she reportedly blushed while saying that Your Highness wouldn’t let her go, day or night.”

“Fior Rephemia!”

Pantheon ground his teeth.

She had coquettishly asked when they would get engaged, face flushed—and now she dared stab him in the back!

As Pantheon trembled with rage, Helione quickly lowered her head.

“My apologies.”

“That’s enough. What about Stefan?”

Unlike Pantheon, who actively engaged in high society, Stefan was different. While Pantheon evaluated noble ladies for advantageous matches, Stefan believed in romance.

He said fate would come on its own, and until then, he focused on honing himself in both body and mind.

“Do you know Lady Merlin Ianna?”

“…I’ve never heard of her.”

“She is the daughter of a small barony near Fior.”

“And?”

“It is said that she and the Second Prince are engaged.”

“What—what did you say?!”

“That is the rumor in high society. They supposedly met by chance at the imperial summer villa, and he fell in love with her modest character…”

“…Ha, absurd. Continue.”

“Because Merlin comes from a poor baron family, the imperial court strongly opposed it. It’s said the Second Prince severed ties with the royal family and held a private wedding ceremony with her in her territory.”

“…Is she close with Lady Fior?”

“Not close… more like she treats her almost like a maid. The Merlin family owes a massive debt to the Fior count’s family.”

At that moment, pieces began to click together in Pantheon’s mind.

I see. So that’s how it is.

After organizing his thoughts, Pantheon spoke:

“As you know, I managed much of the empire’s internal affairs. I owe your husband a great deal. This time, you must help me.”

“How could someone like me possibly help?”

“If I return safely to the imperial palace, I will not forget this favor.”

Helione’s gaze briefly fell to Pantheon’s right foot.

Whether he could even return with that foot…

Though she thought that inwardly, she bowed politely.

A favor…

In five years of commerce, she had worked tirelessly, day and night, seizing every advantage to survive.

And so she knew—she must not get involved in this.

It was clearly life-threatening.

“I’m sorry. How could someone like me possibly assist?”

At her refusal, Pantheon’s face flushed red.

Yet he could not afford to lose her.

Gripping his throbbing forehead, he bit his lip.

What could he offer to win her over?

Countless possibilities flashed through his mind.

Finally, he spoke.

“What about a reinvestigation?”

“…Pardon?”

“There were suspicious aspects to Baron Odor’s death. For example, the bruising on his head, as if struck by something…”

“Your Highness. That was from hitting his head when the carriage overturned in the rain.”

“A carriage overturning? Fior hosts imperial and high noble summer villas. They wouldn’t build roads so poorly that a little rain would cause such an accident.”

“Your Highness!”

“Did you really believe it was an accident? Then why, five years ago, did you request a reinvestigation and an autopsy?”

“…What are you trying to say?”

“Your husband went to Fior to build a new imperial villa. Naturally, he would have met Count Fior.”

“And what of it?”

“That villa was meant as a gift from the Emperor to the Duchess of Kref. Over the past five years, she has spent considerable time in Fior under that pretext. Likely, some mutual interest formed between the count and the duke’s household.”

“…”

“And if your husband happened to notice… and was eliminated for it?”

“That’s a wild assumption.”

“A hypothesis. And one you yourself considered five years ago.”

“….”

Helione was a wise woman.

If only he had listened more carefully to her suspicions back then, things might not have come to this.

“Five years ago, didn’t you call my words dangerous speculation? You said I had subversive thoughts!”

Helione shouted, unable to contain herself.

Ah… this temper. Her late husband always warned her about it.

Breathing heavily, she pressed her forehead.

“I’m offering you a chance for reinvestigation. Your last chance to learn the truth. Will you give it up?”

At Pantheon’s provocation, her body trembled.

Just recalling her husband’s face made her breath tighten.

But what about this man?

To him, her husband’s death was merely a tool.

‘I can’t risk my life on something uncertain. He wouldn’t want that either.’

Looking at Pantheon lounging across from her, she steadied herself.

“It has been over five years since my husband died. Even if we examine the body now, nothing will come of it.”

“If you wish, I will arrange for you to confront everyone in Fior—even the count, even a child born at that time. Of course, after I return to the palace.”

“….”

“You must think of your late husband.”

Her late husband…

Helione quietly closed her eyes.

It had been an arranged marriage. Not a grand bargain—just a suitable match.

A baron of administrative background and a minor noble’s daughter.

There had been no love at first, but there was trust.

His last appearance still haunted her dreams.

His face was swollen beyond recognition, his body twisted, as if every bone was broken.

She vividly remembered clutching his rag-like corpse, crying for permission for an autopsy.

“Now that you’re a merchant, you should learn to take risks.”

Pantheon’s sweet but hollow offer pulled her from her thoughts.

Don’t be fooled. This isn’t investment—it’s gambling.

But…

Seeing her hesitation, Pantheon said:

“Shall I swear upon Sylph that I will never betray you? That I will absolutely keep my promise?”

“…Truly?”

For a spirit contractor, swearing upon their spirit was a powerful binding.

After a long pause, Helione spoke.

“What must I do?”

At her words, Pantheon smiled.

“Have you ever heard of the Necklace of Oakland?”

“Then, have a good night, Baroness Odor.”

At Pantheon’s polite farewell, Helione bowed in response.

The moment the door closed, she hurried away, as if afraid of being seen.

At the end of the corridor where she disappeared, a slender woman who had been holding her breath slowly emerged.

“…Phew, that was close.”

With neatly tied brown hair, wearing a fitted training leather armor and holding a wooden sword—

it was Privetina.