#31. The Silver Candlestick
Of course, it was a lie.
Including their previous married life, Ophelia had mentioned Machanas so few times that Idren could count them on one hand. Even then, it had always been out of unavoidable necessity.
Back then, Idren thought Ophelia got along well with her family and simply wasn’t close to him.
But now he knew—she had hated her family.
Idren thought that if Ophelia had been present at that moment, she might have strangled him for saying something so useless. Her temperament made that entirely plausible.
However, Taeran, who didn’t know Ophelia well, seemed to believe his words at face value.
Since Idren had gone through hell and high water to marry her, Taeran must’ve thought it was nothing for him to pay off her brother’s debt.
Relaxing his previously stiff expression, Taeran spoke.
“Ah, Her Highness must’ve been quite concerned. In fact, there’s an entangled issue related to that. Would you like to take a look at the ledger?”
It was a reasonable suggestion, and Idren nodded. Taeran then gave an order to the boy waiting by the wall.
“Go to my study and bring the ledger I wrote with the Prince of Reden.”
“You kept a separate ledger? Was the debt that much?”
“To Your Highness, it may not seem like a lot. Of course, it was a lot for the prince… But the two of you have a large disparity in wealth. The transactions were frequent enough that a separate ledger was made.”
Then Taeran cast a glance at Idren. He must’ve been worried that Idren would be shocked by the numbers.
But Idren, having seen firsthand in his previous life just how recklessly Machanas spent money, was confident that nothing would surprise him. There was no need to correct Taeran’s mistaken assumptions.
The boy who had left soon returned with a small red notebook. He handed it over to Taeran, approaching the chair where he was seated.
It was at that moment that Taeran lightly brushed his fingers across the back of the boy’s hand. Idren, who had been idly observing the ledger being passed, stiffened.
It had happened quickly, but it was no mistake—there was definite sexual intent in that touch.
While he was still processing that, Taeran took the ledger from the boy and said,
“You may go now.”
As the boy passed by Idren’s seat, he realized the boy’s face looked oddly familiar. He was sure he had seen him somewhere before.
Before he could recall anything significant, Taeran handed him the notebook.
“This is the ledger recording the transactions with the Prince of Reden.”
With that, Idren reminded himself that this wasn’t the time to be distracted.
He took the ledger and opened it. As he quickly scanned the numbers, he furrowed his brow.
“Is this all?”
“…What do you mean?”
“I’m asking if this is the entirety of the prince’s debt.”
The amount listed was much smaller than he had anticipated.
When Ophelia had said that Reden would have collapsed without her dowry, Idren assumed Machanas had borrowed from foreign countries. Domestic debt alone wouldn’t have brought the kingdom down.
And there weren’t many foreign nobles Machanas could’ve borrowed from.
Considering Machanas’s credit, most wealthy people wouldn’t have lent him money. The most likely lenders would be those who made a business of loaning money—like Taeran, who had both wealth and some personal connection to Machanas.
Yet the debt recorded was significant for an individual but not enough to ruin an entire kingdom.
Surely the royal treasures should’ve been used as collateral, at the very least.
In her previous life, Ophelia had orchestrated the sale of Reden’s territory to foreign entities connected to her and quickly mortgaged the royal assets. She had effectively cut off every financial lifeline for Machanas.
It was unusually meticulous of her, considering her personality. But then again, anything less wouldn’t have been enough to destroy a kingdom.
The debt in this ledger, however, was drastically less than he had expected.
Taeran, watching him closely, spoke with a tinge of embarrassment in his voice.
“Yes, that is the full amount the Prince of Reden borrowed.”
“…Did anyone else lend him money besides you?”
“I’m not sure. At least among the southern lords of Aglante, I believe I’m the only one. If anyone else did, it would’ve been a small sum.”
He had no reason to lie about such a thing, so it was likely true. Idren returned the ledger and said,
“Understood. That concludes the review.”
Taeran accepted it and asked,
“How about going hunting with me tomorrow? I recently acquired a new hunting ground.”
Then, with the same pleasant expression he had worn at first, he smiled.
Idren remembered that Taeran had made similar offers several times in his past life.
In fact, before they were married, he had gone hunting with Taeran a few times, thinking there was no harm in maintaining a good relationship.
But now he had no reason to stay close to Taeran. Besides, tomorrow he had plans to meet Ophelia’s friend with her.
“I’m afraid I have plans with Ophelia tomorrow.”
“I see. Still, if you change your mind, do let me know anytime.”
For Taeran, hunting with someone was a way to show closeness to the royal family. So he seemed visibly disappointed. Just then, someone knocked on the door.
“Dinner is ready.”
* * *
By the time they arrived at the banquet hall, Ophelia had just come out as well.
She had changed her clothes, done her hair, and applied makeup. Seeing her dressed up so finely, Idren was struck anew by how beautiful she was. Even putting aside his personal feelings, she was objectively good-looking.
Even Taeran whispered beside him,
“Her Highness has grown up beautifully.”
“…Did you know her when she was young?”
“I visited the Reden royal palace a few times at the Prince’s invitation. I saw her then.”
Then he added, She was especially adorable when she was little—the Prince doted on her greatly.
Idren felt an odd chill at the falsehood in those words.
His seat had been prepared next to Ophelia. The table was set for three, leaving the head seat empty, with the three of them facing each other.
Leaning slightly toward the woman beside him, Idren spoke.
“…I didn’t expect you to attend the banquet.”
He wasn’t trying to pick a fight; he was genuinely surprised.
He had only mentioned Taeran out of mild irritation at Ophelia’s constant silence, not because he expected her to come.
In her past life, she hadn’t mingled with Aglante nobles, and from the fact she had been sleeping on the ship, she had seemed quite exhausted.
Naturally, he thought she would rest instead of joining the banquet.
Without even turning to him, Ophelia replied,
“I needed to check something.”
Then Idren noticed the flickering flame of the candlestick on the table reflected in her blue eyes.
A strange tension crawled up his spine. He leaned closer to ask what she was thinking.
But she spoke first, in a voice only he could hear:
“If you want me to behave tonight, focus on the conversation with the lord during dinner.”
Then she looked at the candlestick in front of her.
The large silver candlestick felt oddly familiar. The longer she stared at it, the more she felt like something would come back to her.
That was why she had asked Idren to talk to the lord. He could be quite bothersome for someone who meant no harm.
Thankfully, though Idren gave her a look of disbelief, he did as she asked.
While he conversed with the lord, Ophelia studied the candlestick closely. It was thick, looked heavy, and held a red candle.
She had definitely seen it somewhere before.
The candlestick felt more familiar than the lord himself. Digging through her memory, Ophelia thought that this time she really ought to see a doctor.
Idren didn’t like how she selectively remembered things, but it truly wasn’t intentional on her part.
Ever since Haslen had died, she had started forgetting little things often. People around her had taken to helping her keep track.
It was likely more psychological than physical. Her former financial advisor had recommended a reputable doctor and urged her to see him.
But by then, Reden had already collapsed, and mental health wasn’t a priority anymore.
…Come to think of it, hadn’t she met that advisor in a place like this?
Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed in her head.
“I was actually Taeran Rahos’s servant. Or perhaps… his boy toy, I should say.”
That faintly self-mocking, miserable statement had been said by her financial advisor.
Ophelia’s eyes widened. A related memory had just resurfaced.
She turned to the man beside her and said,
“It’s the silver candlestick.”
