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Chapter 10
“Miss Marin.”
She didn’t know how much time had passed.
Buried under documents, Marin lifted her head with a hollow, exhausted expression.
“Yes.”
Olive placed a cup of warm black tea and a plate with a slice of yellow cheese cake on her desk.
“Why is this…?”
Marin looked up at Olive with wide eyes.
“I thought it was time to begin.”
“What do you mean?”
“The duke’s orders.”
Following Olive’s gaze, she looked down at her own wrist.
She felt wronged.
The circle made by the duke’s fingers had looked large simply because his hands were big. Her wrist was just naturally slim.
“I’m not that thin….”
Marin tried to protest but stopped when she noticed Olive’s sympathetic gaze.
Ah… I really am quite thin. Thin enough to be looked at like that.
Marin silently reflected with a solemn expression.
“Now, eat up. Once you’re done, something else will be prepared.”
“I can’t eat that much.”
“Then from now on, try to eat more.”
Olive’s gentle eyes shifted into a strict supervisor mode.
Suddenly, a detail from the novel came to mind.
Olive was a devoted follower of the duke—someone who would willingly walk into a fire if the duke ordered it.
She had thought he was simply a good supervisor, but she needed to be careful. Once the duke had given the order, he would not stop until she was fed well enough.
“Yes.”
What could a subordinate do? When the superior said to do something, she had to comply.
Marin cut the cheesecake into bite-sized pieces and put it into her mouth. The rich cheese blended with its sweet aroma, making it delicious. She followed it with a sip of warm black tea.
Eating it after so long brought back faint memories of a time when she could enjoy such things freely.
Meanwhile, Olive, who had been closely observing Marin holding the teacup, slightly widened his eyes before returning to normal.
“Um, Olive… I know it’s shameless to ask, but could I take some of this cake home? You packed some for me last time as well, and I’m sorry to ask again.”
As she ate the cheesecake that melted softly in her mouth, she thought of her mother. She was sure her mother would like it.
“I’ll inform the kitchen.”
Olive nodded and smiled gently.
“Thank you.”
Marin smiled brightly and returned her attention to the cheesecake.
At that moment, Olive was quietly watching her with a sharp gaze.
Knock, knock.
A knock echoed through the corridor, followed by a voice that rang clearly beyond the office door.
“This is the butler.”
“Yes, come in.”
A white-haired elderly man entered, dressed in a neat uniform with broad shoulders. Though his hair and beard were fully white, his physique was so muscular that his buttons looked ready to burst—it was difficult to guess his age.
“Assistant.”
The butler stepped inside and bowed slightly before lifting his head.
“Welcome, Butler Sebas.”
Olive greeted him with a bright, welcoming smile.
Marin’s eyes widened.
So this was Butler Sebas. He had appeared several times in the novel and had an unusual background as a former deputy commander of the knight order.
Marin felt a strange sense of familiarity and smiled faintly to herself.
“Did you have a good trip to the wedding? It must feel strange, seeing your grandson get married already.”
Olive spoke warmly.
“Yes, indeed. Time really flies.”
Marin quietly listened to their conversation while sipping her tea.
Ah, so that’s why he hadn’t been around for a few days—he had gone to a wedding.
“May I ask what brings you here?”
“I came to express my gratitude to His Grace, and wanted to inquire if that would be possible.”
Butler Sebas glanced at Marin briefly before returning his gaze to Olive.
“I see. My apologies, but today is not a good day.”
Olive gently shook his head with a regretful expression.
Sebas nodded with disappointment, took a deep breath, and composed himself.
“I understand.”
Hearing their conversation, Marin was inwardly surprised.
So the duke’s condition is something that can only be known through his assistant.
Now she understood why the elderly butler treated the young assistant with such respect.
“Miss Marin, this is Butler Sebas Chen.”
Marin stood up and bowed politely.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Marin.”
“Miss Marin will be assisting me and also reporting to His Grace regarding work.”
“Pleased to meet you. You may simply call me Butler Sebas.”
Olive continued speaking about her as if introducing someone he was proud of.
“Miss Marin’s reports are even more thorough than mine. His Grace has acknowledged her as well.”
Sebas’s surprised gaze lingered briefly on Marin before shifting back to Olive.
“The duke himself?”
The expression seemed to ask silently: That particular, difficult man accepted a new person so quickly?
“Yes. He listened to Miss Marin’s report comfortably.”
Olive nodded with a satisfied smile.
Sebas looked at Marin with admiration.
“Miss Marin, if you ever need anything in the future, please feel free to ask me anything without hesitation. Since you are assisting His Grace, I would be happy to help in any way I can.”
“Thank you for your consideration.”
“Even the smallest matters, please do not hesitate to ask.”
Sebas gave her an intense, resolute look, as if making a firm request.
“Yes, thank you.”
Marin nodded awkwardly.
In the novel as well, Butler Sebas was one of the duke’s fervent followers.
She would need to be extremely careful to avoid being exposed among such devoted individuals.
Olive stood outside the office door beside a trolley holding warm wine and cheese. A candle on the trolley illuminated the surroundings.
“Come in.”
As a drop of melted wax fell, permission was granted from inside.
Olive pushed the trolley and entered.
After his eye injury, the duke rarely left his office. He only went to his bedroom once or twice a month.
“Your Grace. You should sleep today. You haven’t slept for several days.”
“Do you think drinking wine will make me sleep?”
From his voice, one could sense his exhaustion as he recognized the wine by its scent alone.
No servant pities their master. Yet seeing him unable to sleep for over a week made one naturally feel concerned.
“I thought Miss Marin’s suggestion might help, so I brought it.”
“Temporary?”
“Yes. She said her mother was able to sleep after drinking it.”
“Is she gone?”
“She has left work.”
Olive poured the wine and placed the glass quietly on the desk.
Unusually, the duke obediently picked up the glass.
“About Miss Marin.”
“……”
His silence indicated he expected Olive to continue.
“I don’t think she is a commoner.”
“……”
“She can read, and the way she mentioned her mother drinking expensive wine and the way she held a teacup—she seemed like a noble lady.”
“So she’s a spy?”
There was a subtle hint of amusement in the duke’s voice.
Do you want her to be a spy? Olive wondered. She was clearly someone beneficial to His Grace.
After a moment of thought, Olive replied honestly.
“I’m not sure she’s a spy, but she does seem worth investigating.”
“I already did.”
“Understood.”
Olive placed a plate of cheese and the wine on the desk and stepped back.
“You won’t ask anything else?”
“If there’s anything I need to know, Your Grace will tell me.”
Olive waited quietly with a gentle smile.
“Tch.”
The duke clicked his tongue in mild annoyance.
“She’s not a spy. A viscount’s daughter whose family has fallen.”
Olive’s expression hardened.
“I see. Then is her goal money… or Your Grace?”
“Me?”
“Yes. Even if her family has fallen, she’s still a noble lady. She may be targeting you.”
“Not my life, I assume…”
“Marriage, then. It’s the first time a noble lady has approached in this way.”
“Is Temporary that tempting?”
Olive thought for a moment before speaking.
“Hmm… I’d say she leans more toward… cute.”
“Olive.”
The duke called him in a low voice.
“Yes.”
“Stop talking nonsense and leave.”
“Yes. Please rest.”
After Olive disappeared like the wind, Gerald took a sip of wine.
The suppressed sense of taste burst open in his mouth like fireworks.
Sourness. Sweetness. Astringency. Freshness. Earthy tones. Even the subtle metallic water-like note hidden deep within the wine.
“Not bad… after a long time.”
What a strange woman.
Olive, who always wore a kind smile, was in truth extremely cautious by nature. Yet despite suspecting her, he didn’t seem particularly guarded.
A woman who naturally wins people’s favor…
Isn’t that the mark of a truly capable spy?
His enemies had lost an excellent opportunity by letting such a spy slip through their fingers.
