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Chapter – 03
“Then, what? You brewed the tea yourself just to sell it?”
Octavia didn’t know whether to be angry that someone had experimented on her, or astonished that the daughter of a prestigious family was doing what a servant might. Her eyes widened in confusion, unsure which reaction to show first.
Yet, what came into clear view, almost absurdly, was Brielle’s unscathed appearance. Despite her somewhat unconventional way of thinking, she was truly beautiful.
Her hair, a shade of blonde approaching silver, was braided thickly and draped over her right shoulder. Her glassy, blue eyes sparkled like sunlit water, matching her innocent appearance. Beneath them, a slight redness added a melancholic aura.
If she didn’t open those cherry-red lips, she could easily have been mistaken for fragile.
“Sorry for not telling you and letting you drink it… I thought if I warned you, you wouldn’t.”
Indeed, if only those sly lips didn’t speak.
“Sigh… fair enough.”
Octavia immediately conceded. Had she known Brielle had touched the food, she definitely wouldn’t have eaten it.
Brielle’s one fatal flaw—her sense of taste—could almost be considered lost. Previously, Octavia had eaten a piece of chocolate Brielle said was delicious, only to burst into tears. It wasn’t chocolate—it had been burnt black bread.
Rinsing her mouth with water about twenty times, Octavia spoke in a tired voice:
“If you don’t want the café to fail, you must have Morider brew the tea properly… Anyway, have you decided on the advertisement?”
“Ah, of course! This one’s perfect,” Brielle said, grinning as she pointed to the front page of the newspaper laid out on the table.
Octavia almost fell under the spell of that radiant smile before she quickly composed herself and scolded:
“Are you joking? You want to put a café opening ad on the front page?”
“Is it expensive? Hmm, then maybe I should just hit the casino and win some money… That’d be perfect for quick cash.”
“It’s not about the money. Our Berkshire Times only puts special reports on the front page—no ads!”
Defeated by the pride of a daughter from a wealthy family, Brielle nodded and accepted reality. The café advertisement would ultimately be placed at the bottom of the fourth page.
Her ambition to spend a fortune for a front-page ad vanished, and Brielle, being pressed by Octavia’s ‘heir discount’ argument, reluctantly had the cost halved.
“How relentless…”
“You leaving now? I’ll see you to your carriage.”
“Immediately kicking someone out once you’ve finished your business—so polite,” Brielle remarked.
Outside Brielle’s residence, which also housed the café soon to open, Octavia’s four-horse carriage waited. The glossy horses and two neatly dressed coachmen were proof of her wealth.
One coachman hurried to open the door as Octavia approached. She gracefully slid into the carriage and told Brielle:
“I’ll come again tomorrow.”
“Sure. Bring lots of guests. Don’t forget—you’re banned from coming alone.”
“Don’t worry. Unlike you, I have plenty of friends.”
As their friendly conversation was ending, Brielle’s curiosity got the better of her, and she asked abruptly:
“Has today’s evening edition decided on the front-page scoop yet? I’m curious how big it is.”
At that question, Octavia’s expression quickly hardened. She leaned forward through the carriage door and whispered confidentially into Brielle’s ear:
“Duke Hill is clinging to life. His younger sibling, who’s in the provinces, is returning to the capital soon, so it looks like bad news is imminent. I’m not sure if it’ll make tonight’s evening edition or tomorrow’s morning edition… Anyway, I’m leaving.”
After leaving behind a voice tinged with sorrow, Octavia departed. Brielle watched the carriage disappear in a cloud of dust, murmuring to herself:
“How did it come to this with the Duke…?”
Brielle had never met Duke Bradley Hill, but she had always thought highly of him. Articles he had written for the Berkshire Times and his editorials reflected intelligence and humanity that aligned perfectly with Brielle’s own values.
In short, Bradley Hill was the only noble Brielle genuinely respected.
‘I wonder if his sibling is similar… Both brothers are of the same family. That poor person too.’
Brielle sincerely wished for the Duke’s recovery as she headed back into the café.
Suddenly, a large horse thundered toward her, forcing Brielle to step back against the wall just in time to avoid a serious accident.
‘Wow… I really dodged that.’
Praising her own reflexes, she saw the man on the horse scatter apologies into the air:
“I’m sorry! Truly, I’m sorry!”
Following the traces of the brown horse and its rider, Brielle muttered slowly:
“…Hill?”
She noted the embroidery on the bag attached to the horse and shook her head.
‘That can’t be Duke Hill’s sibling. He hasn’t even reached the capital yet.’
The surname “Hill” seemed more common than she thought. Smirking at her lack of social experience, Brielle stepped back inside the café.
Duke Bradley Hill was dead.
Everything that seemed smooth in the twenty-four-year-old Aiden Hill’s life came crashing down.
Being the second son of one of the few ducal families in the country, his position was enviable. He could enjoy wealth and honor without responsibility.
The only fortunate thing was that his elder brother, Bradley Hill, six years older, had a completely opposite personality: outgoing, cheerful, and full of duty.
Bradley, a natural leader, not only ran the family expertly but also raised his younger brother Aiden as if he were his own child after their parents passed. It was natural that Aiden genuinely respected and loved his elder brother.
When Aiden heard that Bradley had been shot by robbers and was clinging to life, he was forced to acknowledge his own arrogance.
The seemingly smooth life was only a façade.
On the train back to the capital, Aiden barely remembered his thoughts or actions. Exiting the station, he grabbed a carriage as if wresting it from the waiting staff, nearly colliding with a woman on the street in his reckless haste.
The first to meet the urgently returning Aiden was the family physician.
“You need to prepare yourself mentally. Just the fact that he’s still alive is miraculous, young master.”
It was shocking, but the doctor’s words were true. Soon after, Bradley passed away.
The housekeeper, who had served the brothers for years, dabbed her tears with her apron, mumbling:
“It seems he waited for you, young master, to say goodbye.”
No.
Aiden thought so internally. He knew why the nurse said it, but he could not agree.
If Bradley had truly clung to life thinking of his brother, it would have been understandable. But he had died. Suddenly. Irresponsibly. Pitifully.
No matter how many times he replayed it in his mind, Bradley’s death didn’t match him at all.
Even after all the funeral procedures, Aiden was engulfed in a tidal wave of grief, staggering aimlessly.
Around that time, the royal court sent someone to the Duke’s residence. A letter inquired whether he would inherit the title.
‘…Why ask this?’
The Hill family was one of the founding ducal families of Berkshire, a cornerstone of the nation’s history. Inheriting the title as the sole remaining member should have been automatic.
There was no need to ask.
‘Are they just assuming I won’t take the title, or are they hoping I won’t? If it’s the latter, why?’
Aiden’s consciousness, submerged until now, surfaced instantly.
The royal court’s strange behavior, the Hill family, and Bradley’s death might all be connected.
Aiden reviewed the events clearly in his mind. Bradley had crawled into the Duke’s residence with multiple gunshot wounds. Would a typical robber go that far with such lethal intent?
‘It’s possible this wasn’t a robbery. I should’ve considered that from the start. I need to investigate… myself.’
His smooth life was over. Aiden Hill was about to leap into a sudden, perilous course.
