🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 44
Baron Broneau, who had aged far beyond his actual years from so much hardship, looked utterly stunned.
“…….”
“…….”
Flier hesitated beside Silia, unsure whether to stop her. The Baron’s astonishment was obvious.
“Silia, maybe we should give the Baron some time to….”
“…There’s no point hiding it from you, after all.”
Suddenly, Baron Broneau’s eyes became moist. Flier watched in bewilderment.
“How did you know…?”
Silia said firmly:
“If it weren’t the case, you wouldn’t have rushed up here to see me. And…”
Despite working tirelessly every day to find sources of income, the Broneau family had collapsed, selling off their estate. There was a reason for that.
Of course, part of it was the debts left by their ancestors…
“My father just wasn’t lucky in these matters. I had a hunch.”
Baron Broneau had been taken advantage of, big or small, more often than not. Ironically, this was because, despite his long struggles, he wasn’t a bad person.
He never overtaxed his people or married his daughter off to a wealthy old man just for money. If anything, he sold the estate to avoid that and sent his daughter to a boarding school.
‘Such integrity can be a curse for a family in decline.’
Opportunistic scoundrels would approach the Baron to swindle him.
It wasn’t just that. Whenever he earned money, he lacked protection and was robbed at home. Even good food was stolen by rats.
The remaining valuables were sold to pawnshops to pay for his frequent medical treatments.
It was almost pitiable. But Silia knew her father had tried his best in his way.
Instead of blaming him, she focused on resolving the problem.
“What happened? What kind of fraud was it?”
“If the contract wasn’t fulfilled…”
Baron Broneau couldn’t lift his head.
“They said I must give a ring.”
“…….”
“A ring?”
Flier muttered, dumbfounded. It didn’t sound like a serious matter at first. Silia, however, explained to him with a serious expression:
“When my father says ‘a ring,’ it usually means just one.”
“Is it special?”
“It’s the ring left by my late mother.”
Flier’s expression shifted as he realized. He looked at Silia with sympathy.
The ring of her mother—someone Silia had never even seen. She had no time to feel attachment or longing; it felt distant and unreal.
‘But to Father, it’s different.’
It was said he loved her mother deeply. When she passed, he nearly gave up everything. The only reason he didn’t was for Silia’s sake.
Even as the estate and treasures were sold, he never sold that ring. He repeatedly said it was his late wife’s sole keepsake, and he intended to give it to Silia one day.
“…They said if I don’t give the ring, I should give up my title instead.”
“That’s the crux of it.”
“How do you ‘give up’ a title?”
Flier asked in confusion, and Silia answered simply:
“It just means renouncing the right of succession.”
“What’s the benefit…?”
“If we give up succession, it would go to a close relative or another noble. That’s a common tactic for people trying to exploit such rights. Or they might propose someone we adopt as heir to transfer succession rights.”
Titles could still be used as bargaining chips among loan sharks. Direct sale was forbidden, but loopholes existed. For Baron Broneau, this presented a difficult choice.
“The original contract didn’t say this. Somehow the terms changed. I even tried to get it magically appraised, but I lacked the funds… I can’t even face you…”
“Do you have a clue who pushed this contract? Where did it come from?”
After hearing the full story, Silia let go of the tearful Baron. She stopped him from kneeling to apologize and instead smiled brilliantly.
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they get what’s coming to them.”
Three days later, in a bustling café in the capital:
“The private room is this way, Baron.”
“Ahem!”
Baron Kellio ascended the stairs, guided by a staff member. Even for someone like him, rarely visiting the capital, this café was upscale.
‘I quite like it.’
This visit had significance. The person he was after would be in that private room.
‘Such a shabby wretch shouldn’t even be in a private room here.’
Rodin Broneau had always been a thorn in his side.
Even as his family fell, he stubbornly survived. Mercenaries couldn’t rob him successfully; business manipulations failed; even releasing rats into his old mansion didn’t break him. It annoyed Kellio endlessly.
‘If he’d just handed over his title in the first place, none of this would have happened.’
Some might say taking the Broneau barony would just give him two titles, but this meant more to Kellio. He simply hated Rodin and wanted to crush him.
‘And that he married a beauty utterly unfit for me… that bothered me too.’
He remembered the woman with red hair standing beside Rodin in the capital—a dazzling beauty. He had tried to tempt her several times, but failed. She was stubborn, and he had been left empty-handed, which still stung.
‘But today, it all ends.’
If Rodin Broneau couldn’t repay the debt by today, he would have to give up either the title or the ring. Even if he gave up the ring, Kellio would gain control of the woman’s asset, so it was a win-win.
Kellio smiled wickedly, thinking of the merchant house he had allied with. He knew the Broneaus were indebted everywhere, and this house would pressure Rodin and make him relinquish his estate. The mediator from that house was here too and had even secured this excellent café. Everything was perfect.
“This way, Baron.”
Kellio entered the room. Inside were Elin Tarnia of the Tarnia merchant house, and…
“…….”
Kellio flinched. The red-haired girl smiled slyly at him.
“Long time no see.”
“You….”
“Don’t you remember me?”
How could he forget? She was the girl who had rejected him and grown up almost exactly like her cousin.
“…Silia?”
“Yes.”
Greed began to shadow Kellio’s face.
“You’ve grown very well.”
“Yes. Silia is…”
Elin Tarnia, sitting nearby, looked extremely displeased.
Wait. Displeased?
“She’s… exceptional.”
“Oh?”
Silia merely smiled.
“Oh, I see you haven’t been to the capital for some time. Things came up.”
“Many things, I would say, not just ‘things’.”
Elin, still uneasy, tried to appease Silia. Kellio didn’t like that.
‘They owe the debt, yet they’re groveling here?’
This was unacceptable. He came to see Rodin Broneau humiliated, not to meet his confident daughter.
‘Wait. This could work to my advantage.’
Kellio knew Rodin Broneau cherished his only daughter.
‘If I can insult her here…’
If he could turn that into leverage, it would be perfect. Kellio suddenly shouted:
“Yes, you and I are cousins, aren’t we? Seeing you here makes me a bit pity you. It’s a shame you’re such a promising talent.”
“Is that so.”
“Good, then I’ll add a clause to the contract.”
“Baron.”
Elin Tarnia tried to intervene, but Kellio dismissed her with irritation.
“If not the ring, then give up your title. Let’s see.”
He wrote something at the bottom of the contract on the tea table.
“This benefits both you and me. Read it.”
Silia’s silver eyes read the added clause expressionlessly, imagining the girl’s humiliation gave him satisfaction.
“If the debt isn’t repaid in time, I will marry the heir of the Kellio barony.”
“Exactly. This sets your marriage, and the child born between you would inherit both Kellio’s and Broneau’s baronies. This satisfies my demands and Rodin’s needs.”
No one would refuse. No family would voluntarily take a penniless noble daughter. Silia smirked.
“The heir of the Kellio barony is you, Baron, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Kellio was single—divorced, to be precise. No children. So this girl would be his bride. Technically, he was at a loss here.
“Indeed.”
Just then, the red-haired girl smiled brightly:
“But what shall we do? The debt has already been repaid, so the contract is fulfilled, isn’t it?”
