INWY~74

Chapter 74

Knock, knock.

Riena, who was busily getting ready to go out early in the morning, froze at the unexpected sound.

No one was supposed to visit her today—and certainly not at dawn, when the sky had only just begun to pale.

Who could it be?

Puzzled, she opened the door.

“…Callis? What brings you here so early?”

“Haha… it’s been a while, Your Grace.”

Riena blinked in surprise. The man before her looked utterly exhausted—dark shadows hung so deep under his eyes they nearly reached his chin.

“Did something happen?” she asked, concern softening her tone.

Callis scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, his words tumbling out haltingly.

“Ahem… I sincerely apologize for showing up at such an hour without warning, but…”

His preamble was overly polite, even stiff. The more he hesitated, the more a faint sense of dread began to rise in Riena’s eyes. Just what on earth is he about to say…?

“Please save me, Your Grace.”

“…What?”

Caught completely off guard, Riena blinked.

“Pardon?”

“Please! I’m really going to die. My lungs feel scorched, and my ears are ringing!”

Callis looked on the verge of tears. He barely stopped himself from blurting out that his superior had been smoking cigars nonstop beside him all day and cursing like it was a second language.

The reason the Duke had become like that was simple. Of course, overwork and stress played a part—but the real cause began the moment Callis stopped him from visiting Her Grace yesterday.

And since then… life had been pure torment. Terrifying, exhausting torment.

When the royal managers arrived a bit earlier than expected, just before dawn, Callis had technically been supposed to hand over duties to them. But instead, he’d thrown all of it aside and sprinted straight here the moment the sun rose.

As he rambled nonsense, Riena frowned slightly.

Unlike the Duke, who lashed out whenever frustrated, she always tried to understand first—to assess calmly. That gentle expression of hers made Callis’s nose sting.

Sniffling once, he hastily gathered himself.

“I’ll explain everything on the way. Please, just come with me to see His Grace… just this once?”

Surely, someone this kind-hearted couldn’t turn down a desperate man like him.

“…I’m sorry,” she said softly. “But I have somewhere to be today.”

“…What?”

The color drained from Callis’s face.

“Wh–where are you going? Couldn’t you go after visiting? I’ll personally escort you later!”

He sounded pitiful now—but what pride was worth his life?

Pressing his hands together like a prayer, Callis all but begged.

“Please, just once! I swear there’s no danger, nothing to fear! Just see His Grace for a moment—”

“So… he’s not sick, then?”

Her brow arched slightly, her tone calm.

“…What?”

The question threw him. For a moment, his eyes darted around wildly.

Wait… does she think my master’s sick?

Then, after a second of frantic thought, he nodded decisively.

“Yes! Very sick. Terribly ill. He’s suffering badly right now.”

“Mmm. So he’s not sick, then.”

Of course, she could spot a lie from a mile away. She didn’t know exactly what Callis meant by save me, but she could guess the situation well enough.

No doubt the Duke was lashing out at anyone within reach again. She’d seen it before—enough to imagine it clearly now.

“I’m really sorry,” Riena said gently, smiling. “But I’m busy today. I promised to help with the homecoming ceremony.”

“What? No, Your Grace, please—”

“Tell him to get some proper rest. He doesn’t like flower tea, but chamomile might help—it’s good for fatigue.”

The best remedy for that monstrous Duke is YOU! Callis screamed inwardly, though he dared not say it aloud.

Her kind voice sounded like a death sentence to his ears.

“Actually,” Riena added kindly, “you should get some rest too, Callis. You look exhausted. Well then, I’ll be going.”

With a polite smile, she gave a small nod and shut the door firmly behind her.

The sound of the latch clicking felt like the final toll of a bell.

Callis stood frozen before it, unable to even lift a foot inside. His throat bobbed nervously. He could already see what would happen when he returned alone.

He was doomed.



“Rena! You’re here early!”

Riena smiled lightly and set down the heavy bundle she had carried all the way.

Sharon’s eyes went wide.

“Whoa, what’s all this?”

“Some snacks for the workers helping out today.”

“What? Snacks? Wait—did you make these yourself?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Riena lowered her gaze shyly.

The simple gesture glowed with such natural beauty that Sharon couldn’t help but click her tongue in awe. She’d always thought Riena was beautiful—but lately, she seemed to shine.

Maybe it was true what people said: love made you more beautiful.

Chuckling to herself, Sharon’s expression abruptly twisted. The image of that mad Duke flashed in her mind, making her stomach churn.

Ugh. How did a man like that win her heart?

She was curious—but she also knew that imagining it would only make her skin crawl.

Shaking her head to banish the thought, Sharon suddenly remembered someone else—the navy man named Henry, Riena’s old flame.

He was among the Beremark sailors returning to Florian by tomorrow evening for the homecoming ceremony.

The Duke of Venachert, owner of the new resort… and the naval lieutenant just back from war.

If those two meet in Florian… things could get loud.

“Sharon?”

“Huh? Oh—yeah?”

“I’ll hand out the snacks later. Let’s start working first.”

Riena’s gentle voice pulled her out of her thoughts. She must have assumed Sharon was staring off at the food bundles.

Looking at her, Sharon’s eyes grew misty. She’s such a good person…

The guilt hit her hard. Thinking such scandalous things about someone so pure felt downright shameful.

Right. Enough nonsense. Focus on work!

Steeling herself, Sharon nodded firmly. But when Riena smiled back at her—warm, serene, radiant—another thought slipped through despite her best efforts.

Wait… doesn’t this feel like the setup to a tragic love drama?

That sinful little thought, Sharon decided, she’d have to confess to Riena someday.



“She said she’s busy.”

“…Your Grace, I did try my best to convince her,” Callis said weakly.

“And what exactly did you do there, then? Have tea and gossip?”

“No, sir! I swear I didn’t!”

Cold sweat trickled down his spine. He’d known this would happen—but the reality was far worse than anything he imagined.

Muttering a curse, Dante bit down on his cigar.

Click.

Another thin plume of white smoke drifted upward. He had already gone through half a box today alone.

In the past, he’d never smoked this much—two, maybe three a day at most.

At this rate, even he was starting to wonder if this wasn’t stress from work but rather… something far more pathetic.

A lovesick fool.

Ridiculous.

Clicking his tongue, he exhaled sharply and crushed the cigar into the ashtray.

“That’s what she said when I told her I was ill? That she was relieved?”

“N-no, she wasn’t indifferent. She just seemed… glad you weren’t seriously sick…”

“Shut your mouth.”

The icy tone made Callis flinch and clamp his lips shut.

“She went out to help with… what was it? A ceremony?”

Dante laughed under his breath, humorless and bitter.

He remembered all too clearly the nights he’d stayed awake tending to her when she was sick—feeding her water, giving her medicine, changing her clothes, wiping her skin with trembling hands. He’d done everything, absolutely everything.

And now she couldn’t even spare a moment for him.

His jaw tightened. The next cigar died a violent death beneath his palm, crushed like a final scream.

Callis could barely breathe. The air in the office was thick, suffocating—like standing before a volcano about to erupt.

He had a plan once. He’d thought to hand over responsibilities to the other managers, leave the enraged Duke in Riena’s care, and finally get some rest himself.

But that plan had died the moment she refused to come.

Callis’s chest deflated with a long, despairing sigh.

Then Dante suddenly pushed back his chair and stood.

“Let’s go.”

“…S-sir? G-go where?”

“Where do you think?” His eyes gleamed dangerously. “She went to help with that ceremony, didn’t she?”

“Wait—you mean you’re going there yourself?”

Callis’s jaw dropped.

This time, he knew—he was about to owe someone else a very deep apology.