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Chapter – 36
Stefan was a man with short blue hair and a refreshingly open expression. He clasped Cyan’s hand and grinned broadly.
“Congratulations on the wedding.”
“What? What wedding?”
“You said you suddenly needed money. Isn’t it because you’re getting married?”
“Don’t talk nonsense. What wedding out of nowhere?”
“How is that nonsense? The fact that the great Duke of Dicarsignac hasn’t married until now is stranger, if anything. Honestly, if you set your mind to it, it wouldn’t be hard at all.”
If it were just a matter of marrying, that was true. He could bring in some obscure rural noblewoman, hold a ceremony, and Sigurd wouldn’t stop him.
But marriage wasn’t something you rushed through like that.
It was a bond, recognized by law and by the gods, forged with someone you loved.
She had to be someone who loved both him and Dolorasa. Someone he loved, and whom Dolorasa accepted. Someone strong enough to endure Sigurd’s hatred.
Did such a person even exist?
It seemed more believable that she didn’t.
Cyan shook his head.
“It’s not marriage. I need the money for something else.”
“For what? I’m hungry. Have something prepared. Let’s eat while we talk.”
“…Now?”
“Why not?”
Showing up unannounced in the middle of the night, demanding food, and insisting on talking business on top of that—this kind of free-spirited behavior was quintessentially Stefan.
After a brief moment of thought, Cyan replied,
“There’s no reason not to.”
“Good. That’s what I like about you.”
With that, Stefan wandered through the hall as if it were his own home and headed straight into the sitting room.
A short while later, after hearing Cyan’s explanation, Stefan snorted with laughter.
“Our Duke is having quite the passionate romance. A title, territory, and even a castle as gifts.”
“Where exactly did you find romance in my request?”
“You need money because you want to give gifts to a woman you like. Isn’t that it?”
“A woman I like…”
Cyan let out a short sigh.
“I told you clearly from the beginning. She’s intelligent and wise. Like you, Whigius, and Nick, she’s someone I want by my side—someone I want to work with.”
“I’ve known you for twenty years, and I don’t recall ever receiving such touching gifts. Why the discrimination? You’re nice to her because she’s special, aren’t you? That’s romance.”
“Who do you think provided the initial capital for the Jacobs Trading Company?”
“…You, Duke Cyan?”
“And who built the foundation of the guild before handing it over to Whigius?”
“You again, Your Grace.”
“And who gave land to Nick’s family when it was on the brink of collapse?”
“That would’ve been the handsome and capable Duke Cyan.”
“There. See?”
Stefan puffed out his cheeks.
“But those weren’t gifts. You were just setting things up so we’d work for you.”
“So you’re saying you weren’t touched? Who came crying to me because he wanted to trade but had no money? Should I remind you how serious Whigius was about the guild, or what state Nick’s family was in?”
“Sure, it was touching. But it was all convenient, wasn’t it? More like one of your sweet traps, Your Brilliant Grace.”
“…A trap? I don’t recall ever trying to bind you that way. Shall we divide the shares and part ways, then? I don’t mind.”
“H-Hey! Hold on! Why are you so extreme all of a sudden? I never said I wanted to split!”
As Cyan said, most of the initial funds for the Jacobs Trading Company came from him—he just never claimed ownership.
And Stefan genuinely enjoyed running a trading company that technically belonged to Cyan.
Cyan never interfered. As long as profits were made, Stefan could try new ventures or make insane decisions using company funds.
It was exhilarating.
Honestly, if Cyan asked him to just run the business, Stefan wouldn’t even mind becoming his dog.
But this was different.
Using what someone desperately wants to bring them onto your side—that really is Cyan Aysa Dicarsignac’s way. On the surface, it might look the same as everything he’s done before.
Stefan was a merchant. No one was better at weighing gains and losses.
But this has emotion and no practicality. It’s a gift where Cyan clearly loses. Maybe it started as a way to recruit talent—but not anymore.
He studied Cyan’s face.
As he calmly reviewed documents, there was a gentleness there that hadn’t existed before.
Rachel, no doubt.
Does Cyan… not realize it yet? Well, first love at twenty-five—understandable. He’s probably confused, not knowing why he’s acting this way. Cute idiot.
“What are you staring at?”
At Cyan’s gruff question, Stefan grinned.
“Nothing. Just memorizing it.”
The face of a duke who hadn’t yet realized he was in love.
“Again?”
Katie spoke irritably.
Rachel pressed a hand to her throbbing temple.
“…Yes. Twelve of them.”
“That woman Berengela—she’s insane, isn’t she?”
Rachel thought the same.
She knew Berengela was persistent, but this was beyond expectations. She sent letters without tiring.
One the first day. Two the second. Three the third.
And today—twelve.
The contents grew more aggressive by the day, until they were barely distinguishable from curses.
If you continue to ignore my letters, I won’t stay quiet. I’ll use every means I have to bury you.
Did you think a handful of gold would cover what you’ve done? Come to me immediately and beg on your knees, or I’ll never forgive you.
After reading all twelve, Katie let out a long sigh.
“Is she getting worse because of me?”
“Um…”
Rachel couldn’t bring herself to say yes.
Katie drooped.
“I think I made things worse. You warned me it might backfire… I’m really sorry.”
When the third letter arrived, Katie had suggested sending money to quickly end the nuisance.
Rachel hadn’t thought it would work, but she gave in. They sent ten gold coins through Berengela’s maid, Peanut.
As expected, it only made things worse.
Berengela, believing her threats were working, became even more aggressive.
“I’ve never seen someone with a personality like this,” Katie muttered.
It was the kind of remark that showed she’d grown up surrounded by refined people.
Rachel swallowed the urge to say there are far worse people in the world.
Katie sighed again.
“The capital guard says it’s just threatening letters and won’t get involved… Her son lost his title for treason, right? Can’t we report him and have them arrest him?”
Rachel wanted to.
But—
That’s Duke Cyan’s authority. There must be a reason he hasn’t dealt with Theodore yet. Political or strategic. I shouldn’t interfere.
Cyan had already helped her so much. She didn’t want to disrupt his plans over something messy like this.
Fortunately, Rachel had another way—one that didn’t require the capital guard.
“I have a plan, so don’t worry too much. Berengela values her reputation above all else. She hates being humiliated in public more than death itself. I’m going to use that.”
Berengela feared public disgrace more than her son’s affair, more than losing her title, more than the ruin of her house.
It would work better after I officially become a count—but this is enough. For someone like her, this will hurt far more than it would most people.
Just then, Cyan entered the sitting room after finishing his sword training.
Lost in thought, Rachel didn’t notice him approach and kept staring at the letters.
“What are you looking at so intently?”
“Ah—Your Grace!”
Startled, Rachel hurriedly gathered the letters. She didn’t want Cyan to see.
“You worked hard today. Is Graham not with you?”
“He wanted to stay and practice more.”
“Oh, I see. He really is diligent with his training.”
“Thanks to that, his skills improve daily. But… who dares to threaten Lady Rachel? The contents don’t look harmless.”
“Ah… you noticed.”
“I don’t serve as chief information source for the guild for nothing.”
With a bitter smile, Rachel handed him the letters.
There was no point hiding it now.
Cyan’s expression hardened as he read.
“Berengela… Mother and son alike are nothing but trouble.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Is she demanding money?”
“Probably, though she hasn’t named an amount. We sent some gold at Katie’s suggestion, but it only made things worse. I think she wants me to bow before her.”
“And the guard’s response?”
“They won’t act. They said it’s a commoner’s dispute. Unless the recipient is a noble, they won’t investigate.”
“…A title.”
Cyan bit his lip lightly.
“I’m sorry. I should have resolved this sooner. But title grants are traditionally done by the Emperor himself.”
“It’s all right. None of this is your fault. You’ve already helped me more than enough.”
At her calm reply, Cyan’s eyes softened.
“You seem unusually composed for someone being threatened. I take it you have a plan.”
“Yes. I was just discussing it with Katie.”
“Tell me. I may be able to help.”
Not just help—if Cyan intervened, Berengela could be utterly destroyed.
After a moment’s hesitation, Rachel calmly explained her plan..
