Episode 2
There hadn’t even been a chance for Cullen to “rescue” that young lady.
Not that she needed saving — honestly, he wanted to hire her as his bodyguard instead.
Her movements had been sharp, precise, and disciplined. Every strike was clean, with no wasted motion. And she wasn’t just good at attacking; her defense was flawless too. No matter where someone came at her from, she was perfectly ready.
Watching her fight had been… enlightening. Cullen actually felt his eyes brighten.
“I want her,” he thought, clicking his tongue. “In more ways than one.”
Before long, the noise from the scuffle drew people in. Not wanting to get tangled up in trouble, Cullen had slipped away before the crowd arrived, so he didn’t see how it ended. He did, however, catch a glimpse of the girl’s back — she was also making her escape, quick and quiet.
Now, sitting at his desk, he tapped his fingers lightly against the surface.
“No article in the papers. Guess they managed to silence the witnesses.”
It had been the Empire’s first debutante ball held in the palace in three years — all thanks to the Empress finally recovering from her illness. Something that scandalous happening at such a prestigious event should have been all over the news… and yet, nothing.
“So the attackers must’ve had powerful families behind them. Typical. No brains, no morals, but at least they know what shame is after getting beaten by a lady.”
Just then, his aide Harry spoke up carefully.
“Lady Alisa was furious last night, my lord.”
Cullen didn’t even look up.
“Why?”
“Why?!” Harry gasped. “Because she’s the precious daughter of the Dvenzel Marquisate — your family’s long-time allies — and you were supposed to be her escort at her debutante ball!”
“Ah.”
“Ah?! That’s all you have to say?!”
Cullen folded his arms and nodded calmly.
“So she’s angry I came home alone.”
“Of course she is!”
“Send her flowers. And jewels. She’ll forgive me.”
“My goodness. You know her too well… are you her mother or something?”
Harry sighed and scribbled the note down quickly. Cullen stood up, paused, and then asked,
“How’s Louise?”
Louise Lorvant — Cullen’s younger sister and official heir, since she was still unmarried — was one of the few people he actually cared about.
Harry absentmindedly answered while writing,
“The same as always. Barely touched her breakfast. But that’s understandable, after what happened.”
Cullen froze. His face went completely blank, as if someone had wound him down like a toy that suddenly stopped ticking.
Harry noticed the silence but wasn’t too worried. The Duke always got like this whenever his sister came up. So he just waited for new orders.
After a few seconds, Cullen spoke — his voice flat and unreadable.
“Prepare another set.”
“…Sorry, another what?”
Was he talking about another set of flowers and jewels? Harry blinked in confusion, then looked up.
Wait. Who’s this one for?
Eyes wide, he clenched his fist dramatically.
“My lord… are you saying… she might be the future Duchess?”
Cullen’s mouth twitched.
“Maybe. No — I’ll make sure she is.”
“Whaaaat?!”
Harry almost fell over. He’d just said it as a joke, but apparently his boss was dead serious.
Cullen, expression tightening like he’d just come back to his senses, rubbed his forehead and strode across the office, pointing at Harry with authority.
“Make it big. So impressive that she couldn’t possibly refuse. Understood?”
“Agh, here we go again… yes, yes, my lord.”
Harry pouted, jotting it down, when Cullen suddenly stopped mid-step and frowned.
“Wait. We should investigate first.”
Harry, scribbling idly, muttered without thinking,
“Technically, that’s called a background check, sir. You know — a digging into someone’s private life kind of thing.”
Silence.
Harry kept writing for another few seconds… then realized how very quiet it had become.
Uh-oh. Why does it feel like death is standing behind me?
He slowly looked up — and nearly screamed.
Cullen was right in front of him, eyes icy cold, face terrifyingly blank.
“D-Duke?”
Harry’s knees wobbled, and he nearly collapsed. Cullen snorted.
“You’re scared of your own shadow, yet somehow your mouth never stops, huh?”
“My mouth’s… um… kind of independent, sir.”
“Keep it in check. One day it’ll get you fired.”
Then he added,
“Anyway. You’re right — let’s do the digging. I’ll tell you which family.”
Cullen snatched the notepad from Harry’s hands, scribbled something fast with his fountain pen, and tossed it back.
Harry caught it and squinted at the name.
“The… B-Burndale family?”
Cullen didn’t reply. He just turned and walked out of the room.
“There’s only one noble house with rumors about a bastard daughter.”
Midday, at the Burndale family townhouse.
Under a tall poplar tree, Lana Burndale, the current Earl’s younger sister, was lying down lazily, a hat covering her face as she napped in the sunshine.
Her maid, Diana, found her and sighed in exasperation.
“My lady, please get up. The Count is asking for you.”
Lana frowned, lifting the brim of her hat to peek with one eye.
“…Diana, you didn’t find me.”
“But I did.”
“No, you didn’t. I’m not Lanelia.”
“Sure, sure. You’re not Lanelia. You’re Lady Lana Burndale. Now please, get up before you get grass stains on your dress.”
Diana bent down and flicked at the hem of her skirt. Lana lifted her hat a bit more and stared at her maid silently.
Then she said softly,
“I’m not Lana Burndale. I’m Lana Wren. So you must have the wrong girl.”
The maid froze.
Among the servants, calling Lana “Lana Wren” — her late mother’s surname — was a cruel nickname, a reminder that she was an illegitimate child. But she wasn’t supposed to know about that.
She knows?!
Diana’s stomach dropped. The Count might not care much for his half-sister, but if he ever found out a servant had called her that word… heads would roll.
Lana smiled knowingly.
“So you didn’t find me. Right?”
Diana swallowed hard. She realized she was being blackmailed. If she didn’t play along, Lana would tell her brother, and the household staff would be in serious trouble.
“Oh dear. I guess I… haven’t seen you anywhere, my lady.”
“Good. Try the reeds by the pond.”
“Yes, my lady. I’ll just… go do that. Have a nice rest!”
The maid bolted away as fast as she could.
Lana chuckled quietly, folding her hands over her chest.
“She’s nosy, but at least she’s quick on the uptake.”
With a long sigh, she relaxed again, feeling the gentle tickle of the breeze against her bare feet and the soft touch of wild grass brushing her ankles. She closed her eyes peacefully.
By evening, the Burndale mansion was in chaos.
“Has Lanelia still not returned?”
Countess Sophia Burndale, the Earl’s wife, asked the head maid anxiously.
“We… haven’t been able to find her, madam,” the maid stammered, silently cursing Lanelia.
“Honestly! She must have gone off again without saying a word. What am I going to do with that girl?”
Sophia, famous in noble circles for her sweet and gentle nature, pressed a hand to her forehead and sighed. Her round, kind face looked so worried that her servants all felt a pang of guilt just seeing it.
“She’s so selfish,” one of them muttered quietly.
Everyone knew exactly who she meant — Lana.
Others nodded in agreement.
“Just the other morning, she pushed me down the stairs!” said a young maid indignantly.
“What? You could’ve died!”
“I know! My whole life flashed before my eyes.”
“See? The Count’s not cruel for keeping his distance. She’s impossible!”
While Sophia and the head maid whispered about something serious, the rest of the servants gossiped freely — all about Lana.
Behind a column near the entrance, Lana herself stood listening, fists clenched.
Pushed her? she fumed inwardly. She tripped on the carpet and I caught her!
If she hadn’t, half the hallway would’ve been covered in graphite dust from the fallen candles, and the entire house would’ve been turned upside down.
And that had been the day her brother Jake’s friend was visiting, so Sophia and the head maid had been nervous wrecks preparing for it.
So really, I saved her. And this is the thanks I get?
She huffed quietly, then shrugged.
“Well, it’s not like it’s the first time,” she murmured to herself.
