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Chapter : 15
“Idiot, back then you were near the border because of your father.”
“That’s right. It was when I was doing mercenary work.”
“Even if you’d been in the capital instead of the border, you probably wouldn’t have noticed. You’re not a businessman or a marriageable lady—you’re the kind of person who only reads the classifieds. How could you know anything?”
Everything he said, from start to finish, was accurate. Noah scratched his head with an awkward expression.
“But that was all in the past. For the last two years, I haven’t heard a thing about him. Gossip changes so fast, even I can barely keep up. Back then—”
Ted poured out words in a torrent. The conversation about high society, something Noah had never paid attention to, made him feel dizzy.
Having spent his childhood around friends like this, Noah had never thought of himself as talkative.
“Wait, wait! Are you saying there was even talk of an engagement with the Grand Princess?”
Noah cut off his endless chatter. He had done some research on Count Collins himself, but this was the first time he had heard this information. He really was that big of a figure?
“Uh, it’s not officially announced. It just wasn’t in the newspapers, but everyone who knew about it did. Nobles probably still remember.”
“……”
Noah downed his lukewarm beer in one gulp.
‘Why would someone so famous suddenly vanish from the public eye?’
Since two years ago, his appearances in newspapers had decreased, and recently it had become almost impossible to find any paper with the name “Collins.”
“Ted, but why exactly two years ago? Do you know anything about it?”
“I don’t know either. Maybe he suddenly got tired of the world… There could be hundreds of reasons if you try to look for one. I really want to ask. Why did Count Collins suddenly—?”
A crumpled note in his pocket seemed to rustle. Loren’s request to gather journalists kept echoing in his mind.
‘Yeah, there must be some plan.’
Anyway, Loren was his first client. That fact held a special meaning for Noah.
“I’ve heard something about it.”
“…You?”
“Yeah. This time it’s definite. You know I’ve set up a detective agency.”
“I know. That’s why your father kicked you out of your house, isn’t it?”
Noah cleared his throat. He needed to finish before the conversation veered off-topic.
“Anyway, I’ve heard something, and I’m telling you this just for you.”
“…Suspicious.”
“Have you ever seen me lie? This is from a reliable client—about Cedric Collins.”
Noah swallowed hard. From here on, he had to spin a plausible lie.
“They say he’s sick.”
“Sick? Like, a cold?”
“Not something like that. A real, deadly illness. He left his mansion somewhere else and stays in a separate house in the capital.”
“A deadly illness?!”
Ted’s voice boomed through the shop. Reflexively, Noah looked around, then furrowed his brow and pressed a finger to his lips.
“Quiet! It’s true. I heard it exactly.”
“Hm, if this is true, it’s a scoop… Do you have proof?”
Proof. That was the problem. Of course, there was none—it was a lie. Noah lowered his voice and began coaxing Ted gently.
“Now is not the time to ask for proof. From what I heard, he’s only gathering a few journalists for an announcement.”
“…That he’s sick?”
“Well… to be precise, he plans to donate all his wealth to society before he dies.”
“…Crazy.”
The really crazy one was Noah, who had turned Cedric Collins into Saint Collins with just a few words—but there was no way Ted could know that. Noah wiped his mouth with a napkin, eyes gleaming.
“If you slip in quietly during that time… how about it? Sounds good, right?”
“…When exactly?”
“I’ll tell you. But you can’t tell anyone.”
Ted’s voice lowered as if they were conspiring. Noah whispered along.
He repeatedly told the same lie to different people afterward:
That Cedric Collins was terminally ill and planned to donate all his wealth.
“I heard he’s only gathering a few journalists. Isn’t that a scoop?”
He met secretly with desperate people who risked being fired for poor performance. Sometimes he sent letters.
Reactions varied. Some nodded without asking for details; others doubted him entirely.
But everyone agreed on one thing: nothing to lose.
Like ants drawn to candy, people slowly started gathering around the lie.
Since everything had to be done without Count Collins knowing, the only people Noah could gather were journalists who wrote gossip articles.
A reputable newspaper would verify with the Count directly rather than believe Noah, which would have ruined everything.
Noah successfully completed the task Loren had given him. To avoid appearing understaffed, he even hired extra hands.
When asked by journalists when it would happen, Noah said, “Thursday.” Thursday at 4:30 PM. The perfect time for tea.
While the diligent detective carried out his task, Loren finished her own preparations. She never removed the dagger Noah had brought her from her side.
And she tried to stay unnoticed by Cedric. She tried to act as normally as possible, fearing that acting timid now would raise suspicion.
Two days passed in the blink of an eye. What she waited for was Thursday at 4:30, the only time she was allowed in the reception room.
‘…Three hours left.’
Loren glanced at the clock in the center of the wall. A large clock with silver-plated edges. The second hand ticked steadily.
Her heart tightened with every tick. Whenever her eyes followed the minute hand, Peter’s gaze also followed the clock.
“Miss, are you waiting for someone?”
A slightly gruff voice. Since hearing that Noah wasn’t just a cook but a detective, Peter had become noticeably curt.
He openly kept his guard up around Loren. He used to leave her alone at times, but recently, he followed her wherever she went, even knocking on her bedroom door to get her out.
Loren shrugged lightly.
“Who else, Cedric. We decided to have a simple tea together.”
“Tea?”
“Yes. So, we thought we could have a sort of ‘conversation.’”
“A conversation… I see.”
Peter seemed determined to speak little. His clipped words felt like a silent vow not to give her any information.
“Yes, a conversation.”
The conversation ended there. Peter was clearly curious about the content of this ‘conversation.’
‘Anyway, she really can’t hide her expressions.’
Even if asked, he wouldn’t get an answer. Loren rose after sitting in silence for a long while.
“May I go upstairs now? I’d like to take a nap. I thought I was called for something important, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.”
She spoke indirectly, meaning she didn’t want to be summoned for no reason.
As she covered her mouth and yawned, Peter reluctantly nodded.
Loren quickly headed to her bedroom. The dress trailing behind her moved nimbly.
“Well….”
The young lady was unpredictable. It was hard to even guess why the Count had brought her here.
Cedric’s exact actions were unknown, but at first, it seemed to be because Loren had been in danger.
The Count had started returning home at dawn with minor injuries. He gave Peter various excuses, but these nightly walks continued for not months, but two whole years.
Even oblivious Peter could sense that Cedric was caught up in something unusual.
‘But… I’ve never seen a face so stern.’
