Chapter: 13
“You mean you know about that person?”
“Yes. The one who swindled the late Count Kidne. I know about him.”
A hollow laugh escaped Robert’s mouth.
The late Count Kidne—Robert’s father—had been the victim of a scam.
One day, a swindler appeared before the late Count Kidne and proposed a strange investment to the naive count. Fooled by the swindler’s words, Robert’s father handed over all his wealth. Naturally, the swindler took the money and vanished without looking back.
It wasn’t until much later that his father realized he had been scammed—and he ended his own life. He left behind no explanation, only a single note full of self-blame: “I’m sorry for being deceived. This is all my fault.”
Having inherited the countship from a young age, Robert had lived relentlessly.
Outwardly, he performed the part of a leisurely noble, but behind the scenes, he ran pawnshops and information businesses—activities no noble would typically engage in—to gradually reclaim the wealth his father had lost.
“How does a lady know about that?”
Even Robert, the Empire’s top information broker, had never uncovered details about that swindler. The idea that some naive lady from the Leon family knew about him was completely absurd.
“It’s my trade secret. Anyway, you’ll be attending the banquet at the temple tomorrow, right, Count? I’ll wait for your answer then.”
Espin glanced once at the stunned Robert, then rose and left the room.
“Wow… how is she even going to get down these stairs? Should I just roll down instead?”
Hearing Espin’s voice from outside the door, Robert couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief.
Not only did she know his identity, but she also claimed to know that person’s identity.
“Can I really trust her?”
There was no source for the information she had. Robert, who valued accuracy above all, couldn’t easily believe it.
And yet…
“Ah, ah, ah! Whoa, that was close to death!”
Somehow, he wanted to trust that foolish woman, who couldn’t even descend the stairs properly. Somehow, he believed in her—the way she looked him in the eyes and said she would swindle the swindler herself.
“First, I should investigate.”
It seemed she had something he didn’t know.
“Bring me some ointment.”
The carriage arrived at the Leon Count’s mansion.
After scraping my foot descending the steep steps of the pawnshop, I limped out of the carriage.
“Yes.”
The maid who had accompanied me didn’t even think to support me, passing by instead.
“Excuse me, could you help me?”
“Oh… I’m not strong enough to help you. I’ll call someone else.”
“What?”
Both the driver and I stared at her, stunned by this strange response. She tilted her head as if she didn’t know what was wrong, then pointed to the knight who had followed the escort carriage.
“Oh, there’s the knight. Either he or the driver can help you.”
Having lived a few days as a noble in this world, I knew this behavior was wrong. Maids and drivers had their assigned roles: it was her duty to support and attend to me.
But the maid just blinked and tilted her head.
Her eyes were unusually pale.
“Ah… is this what they call a ‘pure-eyed lunatic’?”
How did someone like her end up a maid? Maybe I had saved her too quickly.
Still, compared to previous maids who ignored and mistreated Espin, she didn’t seem malicious—just clueless or indifferent.
I sighed quietly and asked the knight behind me:
“Please help her instead, since she has no sense.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll go get the ointment.”
The maid trotted into the mansion, ignoring the collective sighs of the others behind her.
“By the way, what about the head butler…”
As I entered the mansion, I had to stop in my tracks.
“Your Highness, what brings you here…”
Inside, Duke Holt and Haren were waiting, followed by the Royal Knights.
“Greetings, Lady. I’ve come to investigate yesterday’s incident. Do you have a moment to speak?”
My heart shrank.
I had heard that noble victims usually just submit a written report—but the Royal Knights had come personally. That was a bad sign.
And Duke Holt himself? Too ominous.
“Surely Sebastian wouldn’t have foolishly confessed everything, including his own guilt…”
Pretending to be a prince of Arcadia was already a life sentence if discovered. Even Sebastian, though foolish, wouldn’t make such a reckless choice.
“Right, don’t panic. Nothing can be exposed.”
I forced a smile, convincing myself.
“Then, let’s move to the parlor.”
“The reason I’ve come today is to verify a few things.”
Once seated in the parlor, Travis immediately stated his purpose.
“Of course, please ask freely.”
“Director, it’s all nonsense.”
Haren muttered from the side, but when Travis ignored him, he fell silent.
“The man who caused a disturbance here last time made strange claims.”
“Strange claims?”
“He claimed that Sebastian personally gave 50,000 litas to the young lady.”
Travis watched Espin’s expression.
Even at such an absurd claim, Espin remained composed, smiling lightly.
“Do you believe him, Your Highness?”
“….”
Travis stared silently, waiting to hear what she would say next.
“Do I have any reason to borrow or accept money from that man?”
“Exactly, Director. The Leon family isn’t short on funds; why would she take money from such a man?”
Haren quickly supported Espin’s stance.
“Do you have evidence for that claim?”
“No evidence. Well, the man did borrow money from the pawnshop and took it, but where it went, I don’t know. Probably squandered it somewhere.”
Haren rambled on, following Espin’s lead.
Indeed, the man had borrowed a large sum from a shady pawnshop, using his body as collateral, and supposedly gave it to Espin—but there was no proof he ever met her again.
Sebastian’s story was inconsistent, yet some details were suspiciously precise—especially his description of this very parlor.
How could a commoner know the layout of a parlor they could never enter?
And there was another oddity.
For some reason, a few days ago, Espin had replaced all the staff in the mansion overnight, simply because they had ignored her. This was not a usual occurrence. Something was clearly being hidden.
Travis sipped his tea slowly, watching her face.
Though seemingly expressionless, her eyes sparkled unnaturally.
“And do you know what that man said? He claimed you two were in love.”
“Preposterous… Haren, you know I can’t even look at men’s faces.”
“Look, Director. Espin’s ideal type is a strong, handsome prince-like man. She likes men with noble features, like you, Director.”
Haren’s words choked Travis mid-sip.
“Gah! Stop talking nonsense, Haren!”
Coughing on his tea, Travis glared at Haren.
“No, it’s true. Espin, you once said the Director was handsome, your ideal type.”
Haren and Travis’s gazes turned to Espin.
