CHAPTER 97…..
“Then take care, Your Highness.”
Idris left the airship research lab, seeing off the employees who had come to bid him farewell.
With the airship’s safety inspection process entering its final stage, checking on the progress every day had become part of his routine.
“Your Highness.”
Just as he was leaving the lab, Idris ran into Heather, who had come looking for him.
But something about Heather’s expression seemed off.
“Lady Leticia has purchased a house.”
“…What?”
“I thought if I told her there were no properties at all, she might get suspicious, so I deliberately showed her one with defects—but she went ahead and bought it.”
Idris’s gaze turned cold at the news.
“It must be because of Viscount Cloel.”
He had suspected as much ever since Leticia’s face clouded over a few days earlier, after receiving a letter from the viscount.
Soon, Viscount Cloel would show up.
And knowing her, she would try to leave the mansion to deal with her family matters alone.
“I thought I’d barely managed to keep her here.”
He disliked the idea of her leaving the mansion at all—but what bothered him even more was that her reason for leaving was to shoulder her family’s burdens alone.
“It’s not like I can just kill the viscount…”
He was entertaining an impossible—no, an impermissible—dangerous thought when…
“Your Grace!”
Following the voice, Idris saw a middle-aged man standing there.
A blond man whose hair reminded him of Leticia’s.
Idris’s lips curled slightly, realizing instantly who the man must be.
The one he had been wondering if he needed to track down had come to him of his own accord.
“Go to the carriage first.”
Seeing Viscount Cloel approaching, Idris sent Heather ahead.
By the time Idris was alone, the viscount had closed the distance and greeted him warmly.
“It’s an honor to meet you like this! I believe I’ve greeted you a few times at banquets, though I’m not sure if you remember me.”
The smile vanished from Idris’s lips as he looked at the viscount bowing obsequiously to him.
So this was the man—
“The trash who left you lonely as a child and left a scar on your ear that will never fade.”
He remembered Leticia’s face whenever the topic of her father came up—how she would either avoid the subject or darken.
In front of Idris, she was so careful, watching even his smallest expression or gesture, terrified of upsetting him.
Yet this man had hurt her so easily.
“Well… I meet more people at banquets than I can count.”
“Ah, I’m Jade Cloel. I’m Leticia’s father. And this is my wife.”
Standing behind him, Rosanna gave a shy smile and greeted Idris.
Only then did Idris act as if he recognized him.
“Ah, so you’re Viscount Cloel.”
The recognition made the viscount’s face light up with delight.
Bolstered by this, he began talking more.
“I should have visited you sooner, but I was away for quite some time… my apologies for the delay.”
“Well, you have no obligation to pay me a visit. So then, what brings you here?”
“I went to the mansion to pay my respects, but no one answered the door.”
“I see.”
“I suspect Leticia had a hand in that… But as her father, I thought it rude not to greet you in person, so I’ve come here.”
“Well, now that we’ve met face to face, I suppose your business is done. Take care.”
With that, Idris brushed past the viscount.
The viscount, who had thought Idris would treat him warmly upon learning he was Leticia’s father, was taken aback by his coldness.
Rosanna, watching from the side, was just as surprised.
“My dear!”
Snapped out of his daze by Rosanna’s voice, the viscount hurriedly stepped forward to block Idris’s path.
“Y-Your Highness!”
Idris’s gaze was filled with annoyance.
There was not even a hint of respect for the father of the woman he loved.
Though the viscount was a lower-ranked noble, ever since Leticia had married Phaidan, no one had dared treat him so casually.
The rare humiliation made him falter for a moment, but he quickly regained composure and spoke.
“I know this question is presumptuous… but as her father, I must ask.”
Idris answered with only a look.
“How much do you love that girl, Leticia?”
At the absurd question, Idris’s brows furrowed before he let out a short laugh.
But it lasted only a moment.
Wiping the smile from his face, Idris asked,
“Surely that’s not the only reason you came to see me, is it?”
His golden eyes, glinting with a chilling menace, seemed to add: “You dare ask me something like that?”
The weight of his presence made the viscount shrink. Only then did he realize he had overstepped, and he tried to smooth things over.
“More than my own life.”
“…What?”
“You asked me how much I love her, didn’t you?”
“Ah…”
“I gave you my answer.”
The viscount studied Idris’s face.
The cold golden eyes betrayed no hint as to whether those words were sincere or not. But still…
“If he didn’t truly love her, he wouldn’t risk the scandal of marrying a divorced woman.”
If that was the case, then he had leverage.
Swallowing, he revealed his real reason for seeking Idris.
“T-Then… could you help me, as her father?”
“Help you?”
“I brought back rare goods from the Eastern Continent, but on my way back to the Empire, bandits stole everything.”
“And?”
“So, to recover the goods from those bandits, I’ll need soldiers… Could you assist me?”
Though he pleaded with emotion, Idris’s expression remained indifferent.
“Appealing to emotion won’t work, then.”
The viscount decided to change tactics.
“I suspect Leticia is hesitant about marrying you. But she’s a girl who knows her place.”
When he mentioned marriage, Idris’s eyes flickered with interest.
The viscount seized the opportunity and made his proposal.
“If Your Highness helps me, I’ll persuade her to make up her mind quickly.”
In truth, it was both a threat and a bargain—holding Idris’s love hostage.
Originally, he had considered pushing her to reunite with Phaidan, but on second thought, Idris seemed the better choice.
“After all, the duke cheated and abandoned her, so he might not even want a reunion.”
In contrast, Idris loved her now, which made him easier to sway.
“Who knows how long that feeling will last—but who cares? Right now, it’s burning hot, so I’ll use it.”
The offer was on the table.
The viscount’s sweaty hands opened and closed nervously as he waited for Idris’s answer.
Finally, Idris spoke.
“When the father of the woman I love begs me this earnestly, how can I refuse?”
“So you mean…”
“I’ll lend you the soldiers.”
The answer lit up the viscount’s face with barely concealed joy.
As he was about to bow deeply, Idris added,
“But there’s a condition.”
“A condition…?”
“You are never to appear before Leticia again.”
The unexpected demand startled the viscount.
“But then I can’t persuade her—”
“Do I look like the kind of fool who needs to pressure the father of the woman I love just to marry her?”
The icy gaze bearing down on him felt like a heavy stone crushing his chest.
Under the suffocating pressure, the viscount swallowed hard.
“This is not a request. It’s a warning.”
Once the primal fear of the stronger faded, a delayed surge of anger rose in the viscount at this much younger duke’s arrogance.
“The insolence of this brat…”
But in a society ruled by rank, and with Idris holding what he wanted, he could only bow his head quietly.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
Idris noticed the flash of anger in the viscount’s eyes, but pretended not to and smiled lightly as he continued.
“I’d appreciate it if you could write one last letter to Leticia.”
