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Chapter 84
The violet eyes that met his showed no sign of agitation. Yet, having watched him for so long, Mehen could tell.
Valer was agitated.
“Halbern is cursed.”
Words spat out by those who envied Halbern, those who wished for its downfall. They were barely able to sneer at the impenetrable fortress that was Halbern.
Mehen knew.
He knew why they said such things.
The mysterious accidental death of the previous duke.
The scandal and discord surrounding Lady Sione’s marriage.
The purges and various controversies that arose after the current Grand Duke of Halbern, Valer, succeeded.
And then came Arellin.
And after that, the incomprehensible actions of the Grand Duke of Halbern.
Even though Halbern was a house known for its secrecy, outsiders had seen enough to say such things. One could only imagine how much more fascinating the hidden truth must be.
Now, the only direct bloodline of Halbern left was Valer, the Grand Duke, and his daughter, Arellin.
The diluted blood of the collateral lines could never support the name of Halbern.
Because this was not just a “family.”
To uphold Halbern meant to bear the heavy secrets it guarded, protected, buried, and concealed.
Mehen, who had become an insider long ago, knew this power—this strange ability—was passed down only through the direct line of Halbern.
“Where did you hear such rumors?”
“You, more than anyone, know they’re not true.”
Their gazes clashed again, calm and steady.
No probing, no contest of will—just an encounter.
Mehen suddenly wondered when was the last time those eyes had smiled with genuine warmth.
He faintly remembered.
The boy who had once seemed so bright, so unshakably strong and flawless, carried an inexplicable deep and dark shadow.
That boy had once used Mehen as his comfort, to catch his breath, if only for a moment.
And whenever the weight became too much and the boy fell silent with a pale face, Mehen would simply hold his hand.
And the boy would smile again.
‘But that was long ago.’
The abandoned street child, Mehen, had received the most precious and beautiful things of his life from this young noble.
That friendship, that trust—how could it not be cherished?
It was precious.
Even as he stood in Valer’s place for six long years, fretting and agonizing without ever knowing the reason for his master’s choices.
The ultimate reason he could never flee, never let go, was simple.
Mehen could not forget the grace Valer had given him.
At the very least, he must not become a stain to him.
He had to be of help to him.
Even if Valer no longer smiled like the sunlight that once thawed his frozen heart, even if the hands they held were no longer warm.
Even if everyone else cursed him and turned away—Mehen alone would remain. Mehen alone.
Mehen alone would try to understand.
Even when his heart froze, when his expression hardened, when anger boiled to the top of his head—he tried.
He tried never to let go of the trust he had in him.
“Whose daughter is she?”
“……”
“She isn’t truly your daughter, is she?”
“You don’t think she is?”
Valer’s evasive tone didn’t make Mehen angry.
“I know every detail of your relations with women since adolescence, whether I wanted to or not. Did you really think you could fool me?”
Valer’s eyes curved in amusement.
“Then you played along?”
“I still don’t know.”
“What do you think?”
“May I punch you once?”
Valer sighed as he eyed the fountain pen Mehen held upright.
For all his secrets, Valer never outright lied.
He merely left room for cunning misinterpretations that deceived others.
“Honestly, this is troublesome.”
Smiling faintly, Valer asked,
“What do you want to know?”
“The truth.”
Mehen’s green eyes, as sharp as ever, fixed on his lord.
“The truth with no deceit, no secrets. The truth you keep buried in your chest, the truth you’d never reveal even if you died, you bastard.”
“Ah, Mehen.”
The Grand Duke of Halbern smiled bitterly.
“You say things so tempting, I almost want to give in immediately.”
“Spare me the nonsense. Prove your innocence to the man who swore loyalty and faith to you.”
Mehen demanded.
“Valer, keep the vow you made to me.”
When Mehen invoked that old oath, Valer raised a hand.
Back when Mehen swore his loyalty, Valer too had sworn an oath as his lord.
That to him, and him alone, he would remain innocent.
“Yes, you deserve to know.”
Valer smiled softly and began to speak.
The truth came out in a calm voice, and Mehen’s eyes trembled.
He had braced himself, but when Pandora’s box was opened, the truth he faced was…
“Is that true?”
“Have you ever known me to lie?”
“Ha… insane.”
Mehen ran a hand through his hair. With his mind in disarray, he couldn’t think straight.
Just… just…
“Valer… you crazy bastard.”
Was he in his right mind?
“What the hell were you thinking…”
Was he truly insane? Or had he always been mad, and Mehen was only realizing it now?
Mehen was about to grab him by the collar when—
Bang!
The office doors slammed open, and a small figure burst in.
“Mom, help me!”
Arellin, who had rushed in desperately, blinked in confusion at the heavy atmosphere in the office.
“Huh?”
“Let’s talk about that later.”
“Agreed.”
Valer and Mehen reached a quick accord. Strictly speaking, it was Mehen’s unilateral decision, but still.
Either way, Mehen needed time to collect his thoughts and emotions. Arellin’s sudden appearance wasn’t so bad.
Not to mention—she was adorable.
But still… what was this about?
“The Founding Festival ball?”
“Yes!”
Arellin nodded vigorously.
Mehen was baffled.
As far as he knew, his lady detested crowded, noisy, troublesome places.
Even when begged to attend, she would refuse. And now she was asking to be taken there herself?
Is she sick?!
Unaware of Mehen’s shock, Arellin peeked out from behind him, locking eyes with Valer in a silent battle.
“Take me there.”
“Alright.”
“Call me Dad.”
“……”
What a petty man.
Couldn’t he just take her without conditions?
Her sulky gaze only made Valer chuckle.
“Come on, say ‘Dad.’”
“Ah…”
“……”
“Ah…”
“……”
“Hero Utu-ri!”
“Pffft.”
Valer burst into laughter while Arellin looked like she was about to cry.
What was so hard about calling him Dad? For some reason, the word just wouldn’t leave her lips.
Looking unfairly wronged, Arellin muttered another “Ah…” under her breath, and Mehen gently patted her shoulder.
“I’ll take you, don’t worry, Arel.”
“Mom!”
With a moved expression, Arellin clasped her hands together. The sight was so cute that Mehen’s lips relaxed into a smile.
“But why do you suddenly want to go to the Founding Festival ball?”
Arellin’s eyes darted nervously.
“It’s a secret.”
Mehen looked like the world had ended.
Startled by his stricken face, Arellin scrambled for an excuse.
“Uh—I just want to go together with Mom?”
Her blushing cheeks, pink as peaches, were all the more lovable. Mehen was momentarily dazed, giving Valer the chance to slip in beside them.
“Wouldn’t it be even better if Dad came along with Mom? Right, our darling daughter?”
Even as she glared at him like he was spouting nonsense, Valer remained unfazed.
It seemed the man had developed quite a taste for teasing his own daughter.
“When will you call me Dad?”
“When we get closer.”
“And when will that be?”
“I don’t know.”
Disliking her clingy father, Arellin leaned closer to Mehen.
“Do you hate me, daughter?”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Then there’s still hope. I’ll gladly work at it.”
Valer pressed a gentle kiss on her small hand, his eyes crinkling with a sly smile.
It was the proper way to wield one’s beauty—with full awareness of its power.
“Go away. You’re making Arel uncomfortable.”
“Are you jealous, dear?”
Mehen snapped.
“You really… have a talent… for building up karma… with your words.”
Whack, whack, whack!
Mehen pummeled Valer with clenched fists. Valer accepted the blows without a flinch, replying brightly,
“Thanks for noticing.”
“That wasn’t a compliment!”
Arellin too balled her little fists and cheered for Mehen.
“Good job! Hit him more! Harder!”
