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Chapter 12
It all happened in an instant.
Without hesitation, Martin threw his arm around my shoulder and pulled me with him. We both fell to the ground, one on top of the other.
A few pieces of fruit fell onto Martin’s back, and I forgot about the pain.
My mind went blank at the sheer absurdity of the situation.
What’s going on?
One thing was certain — Martin’s cool-water scent filled my nose, and the moment our eyes met, my head went light.
I can’t breathe.
Was this what it felt like when time stopped?
While I was struggling to breathe, Martin let out slightly rough breaths from the sudden movement.
The eye contact lasted only a moment — his red eyes trembled violently.
When I came back to my senses, I saw a cart loaded with goods rolling away in the distance.
I guessed he had thrown himself at me to keep me from colliding with that cart.
Even the knights following behind us hadn’t reacted in time.
“Master! My lady!”
At the knights’ shout, Martin quickly pulled his gaze from me.
He stood up in a hurry, brushed off his clothes, and reached out a hand.
“Are you all right?”
From the way he scratched the back of his head with his free hand, he didn’t seem all that comfortable asking.
“…Thanks to you. Thank you.”
I took his offered hand and stood easily.
His hand was rough but warm, and I could feel faint scars in places.
“Ah…”
Martin quickly pulled his hand away.
He must have gotten those marks from shielding me.
He ran his fingers through his hair, looking toward the retreating cart.
“Shall I have them caught?”
The knight waited for his order.
“No. We’re in a hurry — just make sure they pay damages.”
With that, Martin covered his injured hand and walked ahead, and I followed.
The goods that had scattered onto the street when we fell were all compensated for under the Cloud name.
But why…
I stared at Martin’s back as he walked in front of me.
It was unlike his usual cold self not to hunt down the cart’s owner and punish him.
I thought again of the rough warmth of his hand.
He’s definitely hurt because of me.
Even if it was a small wound, it was still an injury. I couldn’t ignore it.
I took out a handkerchief and quickened my pace to match his.
When I finally got to his side, I said, “I’m sorry… for causing this.”
“How is this your fault? You don’t need to apologize to me.”
“Then here — at least wrap this around it.”
For some reason, he didn’t slow down.
I held out the handkerchief. His pupils widened for a moment before he quickly regained control, waving his hands firmly.
“…No need.”
“Oh, come on. Give it here.”
I grabbed his hand and stopped him, wrapping the handkerchief around it myself. Martin turned his head away.
“There, that should do it.”
The sight was lopsided and awkward, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
At my sudden laughter, Martin wouldn’t even look at me. He turned away and left in a hurry.
“I’ll go wash up first. We’ll leave right after.”
He walked quickly, almost like he was nervous, and I caught a glimpse of my handkerchief sticking out from his right hand as he went.
We checked out of the hotel and got back into the carriage for the trip to the Delmant region.
I realized again how impressive it was that Martin had been making this long journey alone since he was young.
Just getting there took at least half a day.
In the end, I never got an answer.
I opened the carriage window to let the wind cool my face. The heat in my cheeks finally began to fade.
When I glanced at Martin, the nervousness from earlier was gone.
It was as if he had already forgotten what happened in the marketplace.
I, on the other hand, kept recalling the moment we’d fallen together — but I forced myself to focus on what was ahead: the mining rights deal.
Earlier, Martin had told me that his parents had bought a mine long ago, but hadn’t secured the rights to mine it.
Normally, you would obtain the mining rights along with the mine itself so you could profit from the minerals.
Without them, the mine was basically useless.
This is why you read contracts carefully.
In any case, the bad contract had to be fixed now.
Baron Gilbert.
He was the one who held the rights — and the one I’d be negotiating with.
Did this name ever come up before?
I couldn’t recall it from the original story.
In fact, it was more likely that he never appeared at all — he was just a minor figure who sold the rights to side-character Martin.
No wonder I don’t remember him.
When the scenery outside began to feel oddly unfamiliar, the coachman’s voice called out,
“We’ve arrived.”
I stepped out first and looked around.
Instead of a grand estate, a shabby mansion stood before me.
Untrimmed ivy covered the outer walls, and moss grew thick between the stones.
It didn’t look like there was any caretaker — more like they couldn’t afford one.
Doesn’t seem wealthy.
At that moment, Baron Gilbert hurried out of the mansion.
“Thank you for coming all this way. I, Baron Gilbert, greet the Duke and Duchess.”
He removed his hat and bowed politely.
Martin glanced at him and curtly cut him off.
“No need for greetings. Lead the way.”
Baron Gilbert gave an awkward smile, tugging at his mustache.
When his yellowed teeth showed, Martin frowned.
Don’t make it that obvious.
I tugged lightly at Martin’s collar and shook my head, but he only shrugged.
Baron Gilbert led us inside.
As he guided us, he rubbed his hands together — and my eyes were drawn to them.
What’s that discoloration?
It looked bluish in places, like a bruise, and reddish in others, like dried paint.
I soon had my answer.
The mansion’s walls were lined with paintings, and he eagerly explained each one.
The different frames suggested that each painting had been chosen with care.
I looked around and said, “You have some truly fine pieces here, Baron.”
“Pieces…! Ha ha! The Duchess has a fine eye.”
From his reaction, it was clear the affection came from his own work — the paint-stained hands gave it away.
When I made a casual comment, his lips twitched happily.
Even while watching us closely, he couldn’t hide his big grin. He even clapped with those stained hands.
“With works this good, it’s not my eye — it’s the art itself,” I said.
Martin’s brow furrowed more and more each time the baron flashed his yellow teeth.
I nudged Martin’s side with my elbow and added, “And each painting has such interesting stories attached.”
At my practiced, businesslike smile, Martin’s expression softened slightly, and he rubbed his brow.
Hmph. Watch and learn how to win people over.
“I have a few more pieces I think you’ll like…” the baron said, eyeing my reaction.
Clearly, he decided I was easier to deal with than Martin, who showed no change in expression.
“I’d love to see them,” I said.
Looking delighted, he bustled off to fetch them, and I whispered to Martin, “Don’t make your dislike so obvious in front of him.”
“What do you want me to do if I can’t stand it?”
“If you want something, you have to learn to endure.”
“So, you think you can get what you want?”
“Of course. Leave everything to me today.”
“You sound confident.”
Watching where the baron had gone, I smiled in satisfaction.
I hadn’t expected things to go so smoothly.
“He’s already halfway convinced — I’m not letting anyone else take the credit.”
I wanted to close this deal myself.
When I looked at Martin, there was a glint in his eye.
“Credit…”
He tapped his teacup thoughtfully.
To him, it probably looked like I was just desperate for financial control.
But I wanted more than that.
I need him to trust me.
If I wanted to prevent the family’s ruin, my influence had to grow.
His hand lingered on the teacup for a while, fingers brushing over the rolled-up handkerchief. Then he laced his fingers together and said,
“Well, fine. I was going to watch anyway.”
“Good.”
Unaware of the couple’s private strategy, Baron Gilbert returned with five more paintings.
Even at the negotiation table, he wouldn’t stop talking about his art.
I decided to play along — it wasn’t hard.
“Especially the fourth one you showed me — it had such an atmosphere.”
“Indeed. I emphasized that part deliberately.”
“If I was that impressed, that says it all.”
“You flatter me.”
I meant it.
It seemed Martin was also taken by one of the pieces — a boy kneeling alone in prayer. His gaze lingered on it longer than on any of the others.
Perfect — now’s the time.
With the baron in a good mood, I went in for the strike.
“Do you happen to know the artist?”
“W-why do you ask…?”
His stained hand went straight to his mustache.
He moistened his dry lips as if to steady himself.
“If I get the chance, I’d love to attend this artist’s exhibition with my husband.”
I glanced at Martin with a smile. He only shrugged and gave a polite, faint smile.
