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chapter 11
‘So he’s actually a materialistic man.’
The red eyes of the Duke of Ailsden and his son shifted, now filled with suspicion.
“Of course we should show our gratitude! Hmm… is there anything you would like in particular?”
Before the two men could derail the conversation, Natalie quickly stepped in.
Roger opened his mouth, his silver eyes as indifferent as ever.
“There will soon be an imperial ball hosted by the palace. As an officer of the imperial navy, I am required to attend. May I ask for your daughter to be my partner?”
“……”
“……”
“…My lady?”
“Of course, I’d love to!”
For some reason, an awkward silence had fallen—but Natalie didn’t understand why.
Ignoring her family completely, she eagerly accepted.
Having successfully completed the troublesome step, Roger Crawford gave a slight nod without hesitation.
That look… he somehow seems relieved.
And truthfully, she felt the same.
After rolling around near a burning inferno in the middle of the night, her whole body ached with exhaustion.
Feeling a sense of camaraderie, Natalie smiled brightly at him.
Now that they were on the same side, there was no harm in making a good impression—and she was proud of such a flawless conclusion.
“That… that alone is far too insufficient as a token of gratitude.”
At that moment, Anatole stammered, trying to interrupt their perfect alliance.
“A ball partner is not an appropriate reward! Please allow us to express our gratitude in another way.”
As the heir of the Ailsden family, Anatole made a reasonable objection.
But Roger Crawford refused without a flicker of emotion.
“You need not concern yourself, Young Duke. I asked the young lady to be my partner, and she has already accepted.”
Having been shut down outright, Anatole’s face twisted.
Natalie was deeply satisfied seeing the hot-headed man get put in his place, and she gave Roger a pleased smile.
“I hope Your Grace will no longer trouble yourself over this matter. It was not something worthy of such reward.”
“…If you insist. Then once again, I express my gratitude for your assistance.”
The duke accepted Roger’s stance, his red eyes heavy and sunken.
Roger gave a simple farewell, omitting unnecessary formalities.
“Then I shall take my leave.”
He bowed politely toward his elder, and the duke gave a small nod in return.
Anatole, as the younger duke, bowed deeply with a stiff expression.
“Thank you for your efforts, and I wish you a safe ret—”
“Wait.”
As Natalie stood to follow, she called out to Roger.
All three men turned their gaze toward her at once.
Still smiling brightly, she said,
“It’s almost morning—why don’t you stay and have breakfast with us?”
It was still closer to dawn than morning, making her words sound like she was deliberately holding him back.
Moreover, breakfast in noble households was usually a private family affair.
Though they couldn’t openly object to someone who had just saved them, the Ailsden father and son’s wariness rose sharply at the intimate invitation.
It was understandable.
Despite both being ducal houses, they hadn’t had much close interaction.
The Crawford family governed the northern territories, and even the previous head had mostly stayed there. Naturally, ties with capital nobles had long faded.
On top of that, Roger had become head at a young age and spent his time at sea in battle.
Inviting him into such a personal moment—right after a crisis—was undeniably burdensome.
“Natalie.”
Seeing her act overly familiar, both men gave her warning looks.
Of course, Natalie ignored them completely. Roger mattered far more to her now than her family did.
“You must be shaken as well. Shouldn’t you go rest now?”
“I’m fine, Father. We should properly treat our benefactor.”
Having said that much, they had no grounds to object.
The duke fell silent, and Anatole, though visibly displeased, also held his tongue.
“It’s alright, isn’t it, Your Grace?”
“I don’t usually take breakfast.”
Roger replied indifferently.
Not that you don’t take it—you probably don’t have anything to eat.
Natalie smiled inwardly and grabbed the edge of his sleeve.
She could vividly recall the pitiful refreshments at the Crawford estate.
His naval uniform was neat and spotless—but how had a duke of the empire ended up so poor?
Perhaps, since this was the full version, additional background had been added to his character.
Maybe this version of Roger was burdened with massive gambling debts.
In any case, that wasn’t what mattered.
If he can’t even serve proper refreshments, he probably doesn’t eat well at home either. I’ll make sure to feed him properly whenever I can and raise his affection level.
Come to think of it, he had been wearing his uniform last time too—and today as well.
Did he not even have casual clothes?
A very reasonable suspicion began to form.
Either way, Natalie resolved to fill him up before sending him off.
The cuisine of the Ailsden household was tailored to Natalie’s refined palate, and their chef boasted a résumé as impressive as those in the imperial palace.
“Please don’t refuse—won’t you join me? I didn’t eat anything all day yesterday, so I’m starving.”
Pretending to be pitiful, Natalie pleaded.
Roger’s cold silver eyes turned to her, and he asked slowly,
“You mean… you went an entire day without eating?”
“Yes. I had to stay in my room all day because I did something wrong…”
Got him.
Cheering inwardly, Natalie answered obediently.
But for some reason, Roger’s brow furrowed slightly before he turned to the duke.
“Your Grace… is there some issue?”
“…Hm?”
Natalie tilted her head and followed his gaze.
And to her surprise—
Her father’s face, with his silver hair slicked back, had stiffened frighteningly.
The Duke of Ailsden immediately turned sharply toward his eldest son.
Then came a cold rebuke that seemed to freeze the air.
“Anatole. Did you starve your sister?”
“P-pardon?”
Anatole blinked, confused.
“Did she not just say so? I told you to discipline her, not to leave her unfed all day.”
“What?!”
Only then did Anatole stare at Natalie in shock.
Then, noticing Roger’s gaze—which seemed to silently condemn “How could a ducal house starve its daughter?”—he hurriedly explained,
“No! I only ordered her to reflect on her actions. I told her not to leave her room, but I never forbade her from eating—”
As the young duke, he tried to remain composed while explaining.
“Then why did she go a full day without food? I even sent you to check the household earlier! Do you still consider yourself fit to be her brother?”
But the duke gave him no room to respond, continuing his reprimand.
Ah.
It seemed everyone believed she had been locked in her room, pitifully starving.
Given Natalie’s original personality—proud and stubborn—she would never have asked servants for food.
That does leave room for misunderstanding.
Should she correct it now and say she had simply forgotten to eat?
But then—
She noticed Roger’s silver eyes fixed on her.
Somehow… they seemed filled with pity.
Despite his usual cold, inhuman expression, she instinctively felt it.
This was a perfect chance to close the emotional distance.
He didn’t even believe that the Rainfield invitation was a mistake before…
No reason to defend Anatole over a little misunderstanding.
Natalie decisively changed her mind.
Anatole had always doted on Sharon while only scolding her—despite knowing how desperately she had wanted affection.
It had hurt so much that she had once nearly ended her life over it.
I don’t need love anymore—but that resentment still stands.
Whether Anatole got scolded or felt guilty over a misunderstanding—it wasn’t her concern.
“So… you’ll have breakfast with me, right?”
But Roger was a different matter.
Pity or not, an opportunity was an opportunity.
As Natalie asked earnestly, Roger Crawford finally nodded.
“Since matters within your household seem unsettled, I will take my leave with the young lady. It appears the Duke and the Young Duke have urgent matters to attend to.”
“As you wish.”
The meeting formally came to an end.
As he left, the Duke of Ailsden gave Anatole a strict order.
“Come to my office immediately.”
“…Yes, Father.”
Though he answered, Anatole shot Natalie a stiff look.
Naturally, she ignored him and only looked at Roger.
Soon, Anatole followed the duke out, still visibly shaken.
“Shall we go, Your Grace?”
Roger followed her without resistance.
Humming inwardly, Natalie headed toward the dining room on the first floor, feeling refreshed at the memory of Anatole’s flustered expression.
The Duke of Ailsden’s office.
Anatole stood with his hands behind his back, head bowed, receiving a long reprimand.
“…I deeply regret tarnishing our family’s reputation in front of an outsider.”
“For the next three months, your personal budget will be cut in half. Reflect on your actions and improve yourself.”
“Yes, Father.”
“You may leave.”
The duke turned toward the window.
Just as Anatole was about to leave after bowing, he hesitated and spoke.
“Father. About Natalie.”
“….”
“I think we need to restrain her. She’s being far too familiar with Duke Crawford. If we leave her as she is, she’ll definitely break the taboo!”
