INSDL| Chapter 9

Episode 9

“I should’ve thought of that sooner — I almost smacked my own head. That would’ve taken a weight off Louise’s mind.”

“Ah… really?”

“Yeah. She’d finally have a lady of the house.”

Cullen sounded oddly pleased as he said it. Harry just nodded — not noticing the little spark in his employer’s eye.

Of course. Harry thought. Cullen looked cocky and casual on the outside, but he was stingy with showing feeling. He’d been Duke since he was very young and had learned to hide what he felt when enemies were all around.

So that’s why he’s happy — someone will look after the lady of the house now, Harry realized and nodded to himself.

“So, what should we do about it?” Harry asked.

“Do what?” Cullen asked without taking his eyes off the documents, pen poised.

Harry knew the letter had stopped being Cullen’s main focus, and he couldn’t help showing his annoyance. He thought Cullen must have some real feeling for the girl — otherwise why propose?

“The reply — we need to send one to Lady Burndale. If you’re too busy, should I politely decline on your behalf?” Harry offered.

Cullen paused. He looked up, thoughtful. Harry grew tense. Would the Duke actually meet his fiancée?

Cullen’s next question surprised him.

“What do you think? Should I meet her?”

Harry’s mouth dropped open. The tone made it clear the word “should” wasn’t even necessary — Cullen was genuinely asking. Harry blurted out, almost stomping in his worry, “But this marriage came about because you pushed for it! How can you ask me that?”

Cullen lightly tapped his cheek with his pen and shrugged.

“I’m not personally interested in her.”

“…What?” Harry stammered.

At this point Harry wasn’t sure whether Cullen’s habit of hitting him metaphorically on the back of the head was the problem, or his own painfully honest nature. He didn’t know how to take it.

Cullen took off his glasses and smiled kindly.

“You’re my only aide. You should know the situation. I’ll say it once — listen well.”

Harry braced himself. He was terrified of what nonsense might break his common sense this time.

“Right then…” Cullen said, calm and clear — and what he said flattened Harry like a comical blow. Harry’s mouth flew open; he actually drooled a little from shock.

“What is this—”

“Since it’s happening, avoid getting overly involved,” Cullen said.

“Sir, now isn’t the time to say that!” Harry protested, removing his glasses and rubbing between his eyes. He tried to convince himself he was just tired and hallucinating, but it didn’t work.

Is he insane? Harry thought, breathless.

He remembered: Cullen had taken the draft marriage contract to look over and had scribbled a few lines with his fountain pen. Harry’s job was only to prepare the standard draft; any clause changes should have been a lawyer’s business. So what on earth had Cullen added?

And why had Count Burndale accepted and sent the betrothal letter?

Is he really her brother? Harry wondered.

He remembered the Burndales were in trouble financially, that the Countess was pregnant — and his face softened a touch. But then he got serious again.

“Does Lady Burndale know about that clause?” Harry asked, suspicious.

Cullen shrugged.

“Do you think she’s asking to meet because of that clause?” he said.

“If she had any sense, she probably would demand its removal,” Harry muttered.

Cullen clasped his hands and looked at Harry oddly, smiling a little.

“I don’t think that’s it.”

“Excuse me? How can you be sure?” Harry demanded.

Cullen put his glasses back on and said casually,

“The Count probably didn’t mention the clause to his sister. She most likely doesn’t know a thing.”

Harry’s jaw dropped again. He mumbled under his breath, “Is that possible?”

Cullen picked up another file and gave Harry a pitying look over his glasses.

“Harry — whenever money’s involved, nothing is impossible. The only real exceptions might be monks in the Eastern Continent who renounce the world.”

“But still…” Harry stared dumbfounded, face full of confusion. He fell silent and muttered, “If that’s true… it’s so pitiful.”

Cullen’s face didn’t change — he still smiled the same. Then he said slowly, tone measured:

“Harry.”

“Yes?”

Cullen crossed his legs leisurely, but his eyes were sharp.

“Know your place.”

Harry blinked, puzzled.

“You’re my aide. That means you must put Lorvant’s interests first. I’ll say it plainly: bringing her into our family is absolutely crucial for the house — nothing should come before that duty.”

Cullen’s face went flat and emotionless, his words cold and bookish. Harry felt an odd, indescribable chill.

“…Yes, sir.” Harry managed.

Once Harry nodded, Cullen relaxed like a stopped clock beginning to move again. He flicked his eyebrow and went back to the papers; Harry finally exhaled.

Forget everything about Lanelia Burndale unless told otherwise, he told himself, licking his dry lips. He didn’t like it, but there was one comfort:

At least she’s not in love with him.

From the way she’d looked, she liked his face — but she wasn’t completely smitten. If she had been, Harry would have found out years ago; he’d seen people act like that.

Please—let it stay only a pretty crush. Harry prayed inwardly.

Cullen, still reading, said, “We should meet her, anyway. We can’t be rude.”

“Right… where should I prepare?” Harry asked.

“Pick someplace young ladies like. A place that sells sweets — ideally one owned by our family,” Cullen said.

“Got it. I’ll prepare it.” Harry scribbled fast.

“And tell head housemaid Emily to choose servants who’ll attend to the lady — discreet people. Keep mouths shut.” Cullen added.

“Wedding’s a bit soon, but I’ll hire the best pros in the business. We’ll need to refurbish the guest rooms she’ll stay in, though.” Harry said.

“Told the butler Holden already. He’ll handle it — you pay the bills on time,” Cullen replied.

“Understood.” Harry wrote everything down.

“Again: don’t worry about the property we hand over to the Burndales — focus on making the lady feel supported in her role,” Cullen said.

Harry stopped and asked nervously, “Do you plan to give her full authority in the household?”

Cullen snorted. “Did I say ‘lady of the house’? Let me correct that — she’ll only be a nominal lady. Don’t get attached to the title.”

“Ah, I see. You think she’ll accept that? She’s still young, so you think she’ll be fine?” Harry said, awkward.

“She has no choice.” Cullen leaned back, mouth quirking. “She’ll have nowhere else to go.”

Harry flinched at the tone, but nodded quietly.

“And remember — we paid a lot for this. We’ll make our investment count,” Cullen said. Harry hesitated, unsettled, but nodded and continued taking notes.

Cullen glanced at the slightly open door and watched the red dress vanish into the distance. He raised an eyebrow and returned to his papers.

A few days later — on a bright morning — Lana arrived at a famous dessert shop in town with months-long waiting lists. Even in the morning, it was packed.

“Welcome. Do you have a reservation?” a server asked. Lana, nervous, gave her name, and they showed her to a private room on the second floor separated by glass panels.

“Would you like the dessert menu?” the middle-aged woman who seemed to be the manager asked politely. Lana wasn’t in the mood to eat, so she shook her head and asked only for a glass of cold water.

“Phew,” she breathed.

Sophia set aside a blue-striped bonnet she’d chosen for Lana and fidgeted with her silk gloves, glancing around the room nervously.