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Chapter : 10
That afternoon, Dalton visited the Grand Duke’s residence as promised.
Upon hearing the news, Zenaida summoned him to the reception room and served him tea. Dalton awkwardly lifted his teacup while glancing around the antique interior.
Seeing how stiff and uncomfortable he was, Zenaida spoke lightly to ease the tension.
“Do you like the tea? I told them to prepare something you usually enjoy.”
Dalton liked cold mint tea.
Zenaida remembered that. Yet despite her question, Dalton’s body remained rigid.
When she fell silent for a moment, thinking of something to say, Dalton hurriedly opened his mouth.
“I’m sorry. I was born a country bumpkin, so I’m not used to refined places like this.”
Zenaida was the same.
Before her regression, she had been intimidated by the grandeur of the Grand Duke’s castle and stayed shut in her bedroom for a long time, even eating her meals there instead of going to the dining hall.
Compared to her back then, Dalton adapted rather quickly. Zenaida gently curved her lips into a smile and continued the conversation softly.
“What did Commander Harold say? That man’s famous for being inflexible.”
“He didn’t stop me from leaving or try to hold me back. He let me go without protest.”
Commander Harold was the instructor responsible for training knight cadets. Given his strict adherence to rules and principles, she had worried he might refuse to release Dalton, but it turned out to be an unnecessary concern.
‘Now that Dalton’s at the estate, I can finally breathe.’
The spirit contractor would surely come to the Grand Duke’s residence. Soon enough, she’d get to see that annoyingly handsome face.
Zenaida tightly gripped the handle of her teacup. Why was he doing this, anyway?
In the Empire, the status of a spirit contractor was rock bottom. Drawing unnecessary attention was something they were supposed to avoid at all costs.
Unless he intended to provoke hostility toward spirit contractors.
‘Or maybe he did this to put me in a difficult position. A mere spirit contractor crawling up to the Emperor, after all.’
Zenaida took a sip of tea. The cold mint calmed her tangled thoughts slightly.
‘Well, I’ll find out when night falls.’
What his true purpose in wanting to see her was.
Zenaida set down her teacup. At the same time, the dark shadow on her face faded away.
“If you’re done, shall we take a walk through the garden?”
Zenaida walked through the rear garden of the estate with Dalton.
The garden was decorated with flowers befitting the spring season. Yellow, red, purple—every color except white bloomed proudly.
Breathing in the rich fragrance, she stepped forward slowly. The rustling of grass accompanied her as her eyes darted around restlessly.
The man was a spirit contractor who had secretly killed an imperial knight without revealing his identity.
There was a chance he was hiding somewhere here right now.
As Zenaida worried about how she would get Dalton out of harm’s way if the spirit contractor appeared, she met Dalton’s gaze as he stared straight at her.
Seeing her anxiety, he seemed convinced she was hiding something from him.
“Are you hiding something from me?”
“No, I’m not.”
“That makes me sad. You’d hide something from me of all people? Have you forgotten the bond we’ve built all this time?”
Watching Dalton complain with genuine concern made a laugh escape her unconsciously. It felt just like their first meeting.
To her, Dalton was practically a nephew.
Even though his physique had surpassed hers long ago.
“I told you, didn’t I? That I follow you more than the Emperor’s command.”
Like a child following its mother without question.
‘This is why I didn’t want to get tangled up with him.’
Before her regression and now, Dalton would give everything for her—whether it meant getting hurt or dying.
Zenaida didn’t want that.
She wished he would forget someone like her and live an ordinary life, unlike in her past life. Wasn’t his life far too precious to devote to someone as insignificant as her?
“Dalton.”
“Yes, Lady Zenaida.”
“It’s good to uphold chivalry, but don’t push yourself.”
“But—”
“I’m telling you not to think about dying for my sake.”
With that, the spring breeze brushed against her cheek. Loose strands of hair fluttered in the mild air.
Zenaida instinctively reached up to brush her hair back, then froze as she sensed movement near her ear.
Standing still, she quickly turned her head toward the approaching sound. At the end of her gaze stood an unexpected figure.
“….”
It was Kaiden.
As the master of the estate, she couldn’t say she hadn’t anticipated this possibility—but she hadn’t expected to run into him in the garden.
From what she’d observed, he rarely visited the garden. He spent most of his time in his room, and even when he did come out, it was usually late in the evening.
‘I thought we wouldn’t run into each other.’
Zenaida clenched her fist subtly. Nothing was more pointless than facing someone you were trying to cut ties with.
She withdrew her gaze and spoke to Dalton.
“Let’s go inside, Dalton.”
“Ah, yes.”
Dalton, who had been quietly staying by her side, moved swiftly at her words. Zenaida tried to pass Kaiden calmly, as if nothing had happened.
But then—
“We meet again. Your name was Dalton, wasn’t it?”
This time, Kaiden called out to Dalton instead of Zenaida.
Dalton attempted to ignore the Grand Duke’s words and walk past him. But his steps halted as Kaiden drew his sword, radiating killing intent.
Despite the sudden draw, Dalton showed no sign of surprise and merely tilted his head slightly.
Kaiden glared at him with cold, piercing eyes.
“…I’ll admit, you’ve got guts.”
Despite the unpleasant stare, his tone was oddly casual. Dalton responded to Kaiden’s mutter.
“Isn’t that only natural, given that it’s Lady Zenaida’s choice?”
“…Your loyalty to your master is excessive.”
Kaiden sheathed his sword and stepped toward Zenaida, who was walking ahead, speaking mockingly.
“You’ve kept yourself a useful lover. Be sure to keep him close. As you said, nobles usually keep one or two lovers, after all.”
Having said his piece unilaterally, Kaiden disappeared with Morris.
Zenaida pressed her lips tightly together.
That night.
Zenaida stared out into the empty air beyond the window—more precisely, at the barrier enveloping the estate.
It existed like a thin veil, barely visible.
‘There’s no crack yet.’
Only those with divine power—holy knights or priests—could see the barrier with the naked eye.
Zenaida expected the mysterious spirit contractor to enter the estate quietly. If he intended to cause chaos, he would have already slaughtered people at the imperial palace.
There was no way he would settle for killing just one person so neatly.
‘What he wants is me.’
She didn’t know what he planned to do with her, but she was prepared. She was also prepared for what might happen if she rejected his proposal.
In case things escalated into a fight, she was wearing her knight’s uniform and had a sword at her side.
‘Just in case, I should summon a spirit…’
To call forth a spirit, Zenaida gripped the blade with her bare hand. Unlike during the banquet, Kaiden wouldn’t suddenly burst in now, so it was fine.
She was a holy knight who could heal herself. Unless it was a deep wound, minor injuries were easily treated.
Blood dripped steadily down her hand as it ran along the sharpened edge.
But no matter how much time passed, the contracted spirit showed no sign of appearing.
Zenaida clenched the blade harder, allowing it to cut deeper. The pain intensified, but the surroundings remained silent.
‘Seriously… so damn willful…!’
She frowned in pain and irritation.
In the end, the pain caused her to lose her grip on the sword.
“Damn it….”
Bang!
As she muttered the curse under her breath, a sound close to an explosion rang out. In an instant, smoke and dust filled her vision.
Zenaida moved toward the terrace. Breathing in fresh air to escape the acrid smoke, a chilling sensation seeped into her lungs.
After a few seconds, as the disturbance settled, a voice she’d never heard before tickled her ear.
“Hello, Zenaida.”
Zenaida drew her sword warily. The blade caught the night sky’s glimmer and shone brightly, killing intent gathering at its tip.
But the owner of the voice descended onto the terrace with a bright, eye-smiling grin. His entire body was wrapped in golden light.
Zenaida instinctively recognized that light as the power of a spirit.
“You’re the one who left a spirit mark.”
At her recognizing remark, he beamed broadly and raised his voice.
“Yeah, that’s right. As expected, you recognize me.”
He looked delighted, as though reunited with a long-lost family member.
Despite committing murder merely to leave a mark, he showed no trace of guilt. The man who had taken a life so casually remained utterly innocent as he worried about her.
“Why would you do something like that?”
His gaze had already shifted to Zenaida’s palm, where blood was still flowing.
