Episode 8 – The Suspicious Mercenary
“Uh… well, yes. I’m actually from the Teian Kingdom.”
Rasca admitted it with an awkward smile.
“I knew it.”
Teian was the Tropez Empire’s enemy.
At his confession, Hayder’s eyes turned sharper, like he was ready to pull out his sword any second.
But Rasca wasn’t even looking at Hayder.
His gaze stayed locked on Celeia.
“Still, I’m part of a mercenary group, so I’m free to cross borders whenever I want.”
“You’re a mercenary?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Rasca nodded, still staring at Celeia.
He looks people straight in the eye, she thought, feeling her lashes flutter nervously.
Her calm green eyes tried to hide the awkwardness, but his ocean-blue eyes sparkled like sunlight on water.
“I belong to the group called Ceylon’s Spear.”
“Ceylon’s Spear?”
Maximilian was the only one who recognized the name.
The others turned to him, curiosity all over their faces.
Vera tilted her head.
“What’s that, Lord Devonshire?”
Maximilian let out a dry laugh.
“Ceylon’s Spear is a famous international mercenary guild.
They operate all across the continent, with skilled fighters who are known for their loyalty.
They rarely fail a job.”
Rasca smiled faintly.
“As you know, for a mercenary, our guild pass is more important than nationality. If you’ve checked my bag, you probably already saw my guild badge.”
Celeia went quiet.
She had, in fact, been told by Elaine about the things found in his pack.
Rasca, noticing her silence, spoke gently.
“Compared to the big names in our guild, I’m just a small fry. Still, I’ve built up a decent reputation, and people trust me enough to hire me for guard duty. Unfortunately, I was ambushed on a mission and got wounded.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and gave a little sigh, his smile turning a touch self-mocking.
With his head lowered, the elegant curve of his face looked strangely fragile—enough to make normal people feel guilty pressing him further.
But Hayder wasn’t “normal.”
“How do we know that’s true? A badge can be forged.”
Rasca raised his head again, but instead of looking at Hayder, he turned his eyes to Celeia—as if he already knew who had the real authority here.
“Oh, I get that a lot. People even joke I’m just an actor pretending to be a mercenary.”
He sighed like it was such a hassle, but the sly confidence in his words made Hayder’s brow twitch.
“That’s not what I—”
“Honestly, it’s embarrassing. But I guess I do look a little noble… Ha ha ha!”
And annoyingly enough, he wasn’t wrong.
His smooth golden hair, polished skin, and finely carved features practically oozed aristocracy.
“With a face this memorable, I can’t get away with crime anyway,” he added, winking playfully.
Hayder’s sharp words died in his throat.
Rasca laughed boldly, only to wince when his injury stung.
“Ah—” He pressed a hand to his side.
“Please, don’t strain yourself. We shouldn’t keep questioning an injured man.”
Celeia stepped in, her eyes full of calm warmth.
Rasca’s grin softened at the sight.
“I’m not saying you’re a bad man, Rasca,” she continued carefully.
“But for our safety, we do need to confirm your story. Would you mind letting my aide Elaine, verify your badge?”
Her request was perfectly reasonable and polite.
Rasca simply nodded with his disarming smile.
“Of course. Whatever you need, my lady.”
Celeia breathed easier at his agreement and offered a small smile.
She didn’t realize how intently he was staring at her face.
“Alright, we’ll leave you to rest now. If you need anything, just ring the bell. Don’t move too much, or you’ll reopen the wound.”
With her words, the others started filing out.
Lotte trotted out first, with Vera right behind—only to suddenly frown.
“Wait a second. Why is your skirt so stained? This morning, you looked like a little fairy, and now you look like a bandit. Did you roll around in the grass?”
“…Mm. Sorry. I ruined it.”
“Oh, it’s fine! That dress was old anyway, I was planning to toss it soon.”
“…Mm.”
Lotte went quiet again.
Vera tilted her head.
The girl was always quiet, but this time her expression screamed I’m hiding something.
Did she break a flowerpot or something? Vera wondered.
She would never guess that Lotte had spent the whole morning crawling around the lawn, gathering leaves.
Suspicious, Vera left with her.
Maximilian followed behind.
“Lady Celeia.”
“Let’s talk outside, Sir Elden.”
“…Yes, my lady.”
Hayder’s face was stiff with disapproval, but Celeia’s steady gaze silenced him.
“Please get well soon, Rasca,” she said softly before leaving.
At the door, Rasca blinked at her… then smiled.
“Thank you, Lady Celeia.”
“….”
She noticed right away that he had changed how he addressed her.
Their eyes met midair, and for a second, she felt a strange déjà vu.
Why… why does he feel so familiar?
Unable to answer the question, Celeia was the one to turn away first.
She shut the door gently, but even after it closed, Rasca’s eyes lingered on the spot where she had been.
Elaine later confirmed the badge was real.
“I asked around, too. Everyone said he’s reliable and clean, no bad rumors. And some even mentioned his ridiculous good looks before I said his name.”
That was enough for everyone—except Hayder—to ease their guard.
And so, the handsome, suspicious mercenary ended up staying in the castle. Two weeks passed.
“Lady Celeia.”
Celeia turned at the sound of her name.
It was Rasca, smiling as always.
“Good morning, Rasca. Do you need something?”
“Well, actually… I asked Lady Lotte if there was any way I could help out. She told me you might need a hand here.”
Rasca scratched his cheek, glancing up at her.
She was standing on a chair, taking down the heavy curtains that had kept the winter drafts out.
“You don’t need to do that. You’re still recovering. You’re a guest.”
Celeia waved him off, but Rasca was stubborn.
“My wound wasn’t that bad to begin with, and it’s almost healed. Besides, strictly speaking, I’m not a guest. You and your daughter saved my life. That makes me your debtor.”
He tilted his brows down and blinked his blue eyes like a kicked puppy.
“Would you really let me be an ungrateful scoundrel who can’t even repay kindness?”
It was shameless, but smart—Rasca had already figured out that tugging at Celeia’s compassion worked better than flirting.
“…Alright. Then just help me take the curtains down.”
“Of course, my lady.”
He beamed, looking more thrilled than the person receiving help.
After learning she was the true lord of the estate—not just “someone’s wife”—he had started calling her “my lady” with respectful politeness.
I was worried he’d look down on me for being a woman running a poor estate alone…
Celeia blinked. At first, she had considered pretending her “husband” was away on business.
But that cover story had collapsed thanks to her daughter.
“Daddy abandoned us.”
The words had fallen from Lotte’s mouth during dinner, and the silence afterward had been horrific.
Elaine had frozen mid-spoonful of soup, jaw hanging open.
Vera dropped her beloved frying pan on the floor.
Even Maximilian—the smooth-talker who always had something to say—could only give an awkward “Heh… heh.”
