TACSS 02

CHAPTER 02

The pitiful sight of the former duke—his brother—crying for three days and nights before the corpse had moved so many people that they wept more over Dioneir Shantak de Casa Miramonte’s grief than over the deceased itself.

It was no exaggeration to say that his dramatic mourning, combined with his appearance, played a major role in clearing him of the disgraceful suspicion that he had harmed his own sibling.

The deep navy eyes beneath his long, dense eyelashes swept over the people around him. No matter how closely one looked, the end of those eyes could not be seen.

They were not clear.

Rather than pure, they were murky—heavy and sinking, as if dragging people into a swamp.

And yet, like moths drawn to honey, people still fluttered toward him, circling him without hesitation.

Unaware that the flower was in fact a poisonous bloom, they begged for death with their own hands.

The duke, who had been quietly observing the crowd, stood up.

They called this the “city of pleasure,” but he felt no excitement. That gambling table had been far less interesting than the small common girl he had just seen.

She had seemed like a master gambler, almost a cheat in her own right, controlling the table—then the moment the city guard stormed in, she casually threw off her robe and pretended to be an innocent little child.

Judging from her face and size, she looked about sixteen.

But contrary to her innocent expression, her behavior suggested she was a seasoned fraud who had spent her entire life around gambling houses.

For a moment, he considered following her out of curiosity—but stopped.

A boy from the Miramonte household, who had long served him, respectfully held out a yellow sealed document.

Even at a glance, it was high-quality paper, wrapped tightly with a red cord. Clearly no ordinary letter.

“What is it?”

“A message from Castillo Baha.”

Castillo Baha.

A message from the royal palace meant there was only one possible sender.

The king of Willétan—absolute ruler of Baha, and the duke’s one and only sovereign.

The duke took the paper and unfolded it. Within seconds, his handsome face twisted, and he crumpled the letter.

[To my dear Dioneir Shantak de Casa Miramonte.]

Oh, Del. Are you well?

Thinking of you, alone in unfamiliar Ardel and missing me, makes my heart ache—no, it shatters.

You are surrounded by idle retainers with nothing to do, yet I still sent you all the way to Ardel because it is full of beautiful women.

Of course, even if there are many beauties, none could compare to you—but still, one never knows, do they?

Perhaps intoxicated by Ardel’s pleasures, you might even share a fragment of that stone-like heart of yours with some woman.

In any case, do not return to Baha until you find a bride in Ardel.

To be honest, I am not doing this to tease you.

If you were to suddenly die without an heir, and House Miramonte were left vacant, it would break my heart.

And you do know, don’t you? Your claim to the dukedom has not yet been officially approved by me.

I never intended to allow a duke without a wife to ascend to the title.

So hurry up and marry.

Your loving sovereign, Xavier.

Everything before the final line was meaningless rambling.

The king’s true message was simple.

Get married.

The duke let out a hollow laugh and tore the letter apart.

No one around him would dare shout at him for tearing a royal message.

It meant that if he did not bring a woman back, he would not be granted the title of duke.

In truth, there was no other suitable heir—but a Miramonte house without royal approval…

Even imagining it made his shoulders ache.

And yet—

“Damn it.”

He pressed his hand against his eyes.

He was tired. Lately, he hadn’t been sleeping properly at all.

Meanwhile

Su was not entirely alone in the world.

Ardel, the commercial city, was as glamorous on the outside as it was rotten beneath the surface. It was filled with children like Su.

Children abandoned after their parents lost everything chasing dreams of success; children sold off due to debt; children born between reckless gamblers and shameless nobles or prostitutes.

That was Ardel.

So Su had never pitied her own circumstances.

Honestly, she even thought she was lucky compared to others.

At least she had known something like “motherly affection.” Even if it came from someone who shared no blood with her, she had grown up receiving warmth and calling someone “mother.”

Because of that, she had a younger sibling too.

Also not related by blood—but Mel was her brother.

Even if he was unbelievably disobedient and had not a single redeeming cute trait.

“Hey!”

“Why?”

Despite Su yelling in fury, Mel’s attitude was infuriatingly arrogant.

Sitting on the table, swinging one leg and casually peeling an orange, he looked completely unbothered, making Su see red.

“You little psycho! What kind of twelve-year-old gambles?!”

“You said you started gambling at twelve too.”

“That’s—”

“Because you’re a genius con artist? Yeah, I know I’m not as good as you. I’m still trying though.”

“Stop that useless trying and just go to school properly!”

Su was genuinely frustrated that Mel was trying to follow her path as a con artist.

More than she cared to admit—it actually hurt.

She had no shame about being a fraud herself—in fact, she was proud of being one of the best—but she didn’t want that life for him.

At least he should have a job he could proudly tell a spouse about.

Su had no choice in her path, but Mel could choose another one. She would do anything to help him.

“Hey, sis.”

“Yeah?”

Mel climbed down from the table and stood facing her.

His bright, innocent face seemed worlds apart from anything involving deception.

His clear brown eyes already understood what she was worried about.

She wanted him to leave the back alleys.

Thinking of how she, who wasn’t even related to him by blood, had raised him—thanks to his biological mother taking care of Su when she was young—Mel felt a sting of guilt.

In truth, Su had entered gambling at a young age purely to raise him.

A twelve-year-old girl struggling to keep a baby in her arms from being taken away—that had led her to gambling.

“There are things in this world that can’t be solved by effort alone.”

Mel gave a bitter smile that didn’t suit his young face.

That expression hurt Su’s chest again.

Mel said he wanted to become a knight.

In a rigid class-based society, that dream was almost impossible.

There was little Su couldn’t do in Ardel’s underworld—but even she couldn’t do everything.

Su clenched her teeth.

“I’ll do it.”

“Do what?”

“Buy a status.”

“…What?”

Mel blinked in confusion.

Even if Su was good at gambling and fraud, there was a limit to how much money she could earn.

And buying social status?

That wasn’t something money alone could achieve—you needed connections with high nobles, at least count-level or above.

“I heard it costs around 200,000 gold. If I pull off a few big jobs, it’s not an impossible number.”

Two hundred thousand gold.

Mel’s eyes widened.

A common household barely survived on ten gold a month. It was an absurd amount.

“S-sis…”

“You think I don’t have that much money?”

Su straightened her back confidently.

Her tone was so bold it almost seemed like she actually did.

In truth, she was known as a famous con artist in the area—though most people didn’t know she was the infamous “Roland”—and she was also extremely frugal.

Given her talent for gambling and fraud, she had earned quite a lot and never wasted a coin.

Still, no one would expect her to have 200,000 gold.

That amount was enough to fund the lifetime wealth of a minor noble house.

“Really?”

“Of course!”

She patted Mel’s shoulder.

“Trust your sister, okay?”

Mel’s eyes lit up with hope, and warmth spread in Su’s chest.

But after Mel left to practice swordsmanship, her smile faded.

The truth was—she didn’t have 200,000 gold.

Maybe half that. Around 100,000 at best—and even that was already astonishing for a girl from the slums.

But 200,000?

That was impossible.

“Where am I supposed to get that kind of money…?”

She sighed.

Had she just given him false hope?

Her head already ached with regret.

Still, she shook her head and stood up.

Time was money. It was better to go out and think of ways to earn than sit around regretting.

After leaving the house, she watched Mel training with a faint smile, then walked deeper into a more run-down district.

A place she strictly forbade Mel from entering.

“Hey? Isn’t that Su!”

The moment she entered, men reeking of cheap alcohol swarmed her.

Too pretty for the slums—too young-looking for their taste—she stood out, attracting them like flies.

Without hesitation, Su punched them away.