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Chapter 8
What was that sound?
Esiel quickly put the gem she was holding back in its place.
Soon, the sound of a child’s chattering could be heard, but no response came from the other side. Just as something felt off, the approaching footsteps stopped—and their owner appeared.
“Oh my…”
It was Romford.
With his dark black hair and a cold, intimidating face, he carried an oppressive aura.
Standing at the doorway, Romford slowly scanned the room. His gaze passed over Esiel, who had frozen stiff. It was an extremely sharp look.
“Why are you here?”
But in the end, his eyes landed on Esiel. An alarm bell rang in her mind again, signaling danger.
“You really don’t know your place, wandering around like this.”
Romford’s voice filled the small space. His terrifying tone, as if he might issue an order at any moment, and the indifference in his blood-red eyes made her dizzy.
“Ah… uh…”
Even though Esiel knew clearly that he was speaking to her, she couldn’t respond. Her lips, as if broken, only fumbled helplessly.
His cold gaze lingered. Perhaps he was waiting for an answer. Romford stepped forward quickly, closing the distance between them completely.
“We were playing tag…”
Her voice slipped out in a panic, completely unlike her chaotic thoughts. Esiel lowered her head completely, unable to endure his icy stare.
“How did you find this place?”
“T-that is…”
Romford silently watched her stumble over her words. After a faint sigh, his expression turned even colder.
His dark red eyes scanned the interior of the room. The scattered sacks of gold coins and jewels gleamed in the dim light. His gaze lingered on them.
There was no way he wouldn’t recognize the family emblem engraved on the door. Realizing this, Esiel grew even more anxious.
“…No.”
“….”
“What could a brat like you possibly know? Even I didn’t know this existed.”
His low muttering sounded strangely drained. Esiel cautiously lifted her head to gauge his expression—and somehow, she understood.
Maybe… this crisis could become an opportunity.
The “place” Esiel had been desperately searching for was actually the hidden vault of the Legonis family.
It contained spoils of war, gold and jewels, treasures impossible to even measure in value. The ancestors had secretly gathered them, likely preparing for emergencies while hiding them from the Emperor.
But this secret had never reached Romford. His father had died suddenly for unknown reasons before he could pass it on.
Romford had lost his father unexpectedly and had no time to grieve. He had thrown himself into work from an early age, learning everything as quickly as possible. He lived like a machine, never experiencing emotional warmth.
As someone who had once worked as a kindergarten teacher before possessing this world, Esiel couldn’t easily forget young Romford—or the children who resembled him. That was part of why she kept getting pulled into this story.
Moreover, Esiel felt that the three men of this family were strangely similar. Though that made sense as family, it wasn’t the only reason. Deep in her heart, the sorrow she felt toward them lingered like an imprint.
“So this is what you were hiding.”
Romford muttered while looking at the sacks. His red eyes flickered as if recalling a bitter past.
Esiel’s gaze then shifted toward Ferudin standing near the doorway.
The boy had shut his chattering mouth and now looked tense, rolling his red eyes nervously as he watched Romford.
“I told him! Ferudin told me we should report it to the Grand Duke!”
At that moment, Esiel suddenly pointed at Ferudin.
“What? Me?”
“I found it while we were playing tag, but there were huge sacks full of stuff…”
Romford’s gaze moved between Esiel and Ferudin. His expression softened slightly, as if trying to understand the situation.
“…You intended to report it?”
“Y-yes. Really…”
Esiel answered as carefully as possible. Surviving the situation came first. Whether her improvised story would work or not was uncertain.
“Very well.”
Romford replied briefly and walked over to Ferudin.
The boy stiffened, unused to being addressed directly by his father.
“You’ve done something useful for the family.”
“Y-yes…?”
“Well done.”
A rough, strong hand covered Ferudin’s head. Despite its roughness, it carried a warm heat.
Ferudin felt something unfamiliar stir within him—an emotion he had never experienced from his father before.
After Romford left, Esiel and a dazed Ferudin remained.
Soon, Ferudin’s face turned slightly red with excitement. He cleared his throat awkwardly and spoke.
“See? I told you I’d report it to Father!”
“Huh?”
“Anyway, let’s play tag again. I’ll be it this time!”
For some reason, he volunteered to be “it,” and Esiel smiled faintly.
“Okay!”
* * *
The sound of horses’ hooves was thunderous, almost violent. The coachman driving them was clearly pushing the horses as hard as possible under orders.
Before the carriage even fully stopped, the door was flung open.
The man who leapt out of it was none other than Duke Vergail.
It had been less than three days since Romford sent the letter with his subordinate’s insignia, yet Vergail had rushed straight to the Legonis estate immediately.
“Romford…!”
Grinding his teeth, Vergail muttered the name of the source of his anger.
He strode toward the mansion entrance, but a knight standing guard tried to stop him.
“Wai—”
“Out of my way!”
At Vergail’s furious shout, the knight stepped back. Soon after, he reluctantly opened the door.
The mansion felt eerily quiet, like the calm before a storm.
Vergail’s heavy footsteps broke the silence as he headed straight for Romford’s office. Waiting in the reception room would not calm his anger.
As expected, Romford was in his office.
He sat calmly, as if expecting Vergail’s explosive entrance.
“You came.”
“D—!”
“Duke Vergail. Do not cross the line.”
“What did you just—”
“Have you forgotten this is my estate?”
Romford’s cold gaze swept over him. Despite the flat tone, Vergail felt a chill run down his spine. His earlier rage disappeared in an instant.
“Come.”
Romford walked past him, leaving the office. Vergail followed, barely controlling himself.
In the reception room, sunlight poured in through a large window.
“So, when do you plan to speak?”
Romford turned from the window. He didn’t have much patience left, nor time to waste.
“…About the letter you sent. Our property was attached to it.”
“Yes.”
“We request its return.”
Vergail was referring to his captured subordinate. Though he tried to appear composed, his fingers trembled slightly.
“You should have taken better care of your men. I didn’t realize he had an owner—he was quite obedient.”
Romford’s gaze briefly flicked to Vergail’s trembling hand.
“I heard you’ve been bribing other nobles with jewels.”
“…”
“I was under the impression your house didn’t have that level of wealth. So where is your funding coming from?”
Vergail’s pupils shook.
Romford had struck the center of the target with surgical precision.
Still, Vergail forced himself to stay calm.
“That’s not true. You must be mistaken…”
“Mistaken? I see.”
Romford cut him off indifferently. It didn’t seem like he cared whether it was true or not. If anything, his attitude was colder because of it.
Knock knock—
“Come in.”
A maid entered with tea. Two steaming cups were placed on the table, and she stepped back.
But just as she was about to close the door—
“Wait! No!”
“Just let me take a quick look!”
A familiar child’s voice rang out.
Romford’s calm expression twitched.
“What is it?”
“I-I don’t know…”
Before the maid could answer, the voice rang out again.
“Wow! It’s really the mustache uncle!”
Esiel burst into the reception room and pointed her tiny finger directly at Duke Vergail.
