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Chapter 13
Among what Commander Roelren had brought back, there were indeed edible flowers. With their stems still attached. And also inedible flowers. Also with stems still attached.
There was basil, but no romaine. And for some reason, there was a blade of grass—softly placed among unknown weeds. There was unnecessary cabbage, and also necessary lettuce. And fortunately, there were cherry tomatoes.
The unfortunate part was that six out of ten were still green.
‘Well, romaine is a shame, but lettuce and edible flowers are enough for a salad. And I even have four red tomatoes!’
Ivenne rinsed the harvested ingredients in the sink. After shaking off the water, she tore the lettuce by hand into a wide bowl, added halved cherry tomatoes and edible flowers, then poured in her pre-made oriental dressing.
While Ivenne was cooking, Hayden quietly stood up from the table and carried the finished salad over. She nodded slightly to thank him.
As he moved the salad, Ivenne divided the vongole pasta onto two plates, tearing fresh basil on top to finish. Finally, she sliced the seared tenderloin—crispy on the outside and juicy inside—placed it into a deep bowl, and poured over the simmered basil sauce.
Everything was complete.
“I’ll enjoy the meal.”
“Yes. Me too. Please eat well.”
“Very well.”
They sat across from each other and began eating.
The fresh salad awakened the appetite, and the steaming vongole pasta and tender basil steak were unbelievably delicious.
‘I made it, but it’s seriously good! Ivenne, how are you good at everything!’
“You’re quite skilled at cooking. It’s good.”
“Really? I’m glad it suits your taste.”
After that brief exchange, they ate in comfortable silence.
Seeing the empty plates, Ivenne felt quietly proud and cleared everything away. She then brought out lemon pound cake from the duke’s household along with tea for dessert.
“When did you start living alone in the Magic Tower?”
Hayden asked as Ivenne silently screamed in happiness over the lemon-scented cake.
“When I was seventeen.”
“Hm. May I ask a bit more?”
Ivenne tilted her head.
“You can just ask…”
“I thought it might be unpleasant for you. If it is, you don’t have to answer.”
He added quietly, “Really.”
His careful tone made Ivenne strangely emotional in a different way. If Hayden had not been sitting right there, she might have covered her mouth and cried.
‘He’s this considerate?’
And on top of that—he was handsome. High status. Extremely wealthy.
‘Most of all, that personality!’
It deserved more than a perfect score. Ivenne decided she would answer anything for him.
“Alright. Ask me, Commander.”
She smiled brightly.
Hayden opened his mouth, then closed it again, choosing his words carefully.
“…Was it because of the reason known to the public that you’ve lived alone since seventeen?”
‘Oh. That?’
Ivenne felt slightly disappointed. She had expected something more uncomfortable.
‘The public reason… the rumor that I was kicked out for reckless spending and debt.’
If he expected her to be offended, he was mistaken. It didn’t affect her at all.
If anything, to truly bother her, the rumor would have to be something like:
‘Ivenne Highwen shamelessly flirted with Commander Roelren.’
That would make her furious enough to tear someone’s mouth apart—while internally worrying about assassination costs and losing ducal snacks.
“Yes, you mean the rumor that I was kicked out for debt due to luxury spending, right?”
Hayden nodded slightly.
In truth, she had left on her own to avoid an unwanted marriage, but there was no need to explain everything. She intended to move on to complaining about the imperial checkpoint—but Hayden spoke again.
“I asked because I wondered if there was another reason.”
Ivenne’s eyes widened.
‘No one has ever asked that.’
Everyone simply believed the rumor as fact.
Even Ivenne herself had never questioned it.
“Uh… why do you think that?”
“I don’t believe things until I hear them from the person involved. The person themselves would know best. I have no right to judge.”
Something about his words struck her deeply.
People usually just believed whatever rumor they heard.
So did she.
‘…Me too.’
She suddenly felt embarrassed.
‘Who am I to decide what’s true about myself?’
She didn’t need others to believe or disbelieve it either. Only she knew the truth.
‘I’m learning again.’
If Hayden weren’t here, she would have been smugly admiring herself. Instead, she stayed composed.
He had unknowingly made her resolve something:
Even if he called her foolish, she would still tell him everything.
“Actually… part of it is true, and part of it isn’t.”
“Can you tell me?”
“There wasn’t anything that special…”
She fiddled with her teacup.
‘Why does talking about marriage make my face feel hot?’
The marriage had never happened, but it still felt awkward to say it out loud.
After a pause, she finally spoke.
“My uncle—current Count Sweet—offered me a second marriage arrangement. That’s where it started.”
Hayden’s hand paused mid-motion.
“Second marriage?”
“Yes. With a man named Baron Garen. I refused and left that day. After that… well, the public story is mostly true. I borrowed money from the Magic Tower, lost it, ended up in debt, and the Baron backed off, and my uncle kicked me out in anger.”
“Not much of a story, right?”
She added it lightly, almost joking.
Then she continued:
“And the debt… you did it intentionally.”
“Yes. I did.”
She didn’t deny it.
Hayden fell silent for a moment, then spoke.
“Clever.”
Ivenne froze.
‘…Clever?’
That was not the reaction she expected.
She had thought he might scold her or look down on her for being reckless.
But instead—
“Most seventeen-year-old noble ladies would have been forced into that marriage. But you created debt to avoid it.”
“…But I still ended up in massive debt.”
“Debt can be repaid.”
She almost doubted her ears.
Was debt repayment supposed to be that simple?
For someone like her—who had basically staged a one-woman performance titled The Debtor—it certainly wasn’t simple in common sense.
Then—
“I also lost the Sweet family name.”
“You now use the Magic Tower’s name. That solves it. If you had kept the Sweet name, you might have been forced into another unwanted marriage.”
Hayden lifted his teacup.
“The seventeen-year-old you made an excellent decision.”
Then, after a sip:
“A truly brilliant strategy.”
At that moment, something inside Ivenne tightened painfully.
Not from sadness—but from something unexpectedly warm.
As if, for the first time, someone had properly acknowledged everything she had done.
And yet—
Somehow, that made her uneasy.
