“Your dear brother has been actively going around lobbying the neighboring lords for the past week ever since his secret arrival in the North, just like we originally anticipated,” Miller noted, casually throwing a card from his hand onto the table. He sat relaxed in a loose robe that was barely pulled together across his chest.
“Were you having him tailed by our mercenary corps? According to the formal itinerary he sent me, he was supposedly only visiting 'local business partners,'” Francesca replied with a sharp scoff. She picked a fresh card from the deck on the table, her silk nightgown similarly worn askew in the comfort of their private quarters.
“Not really. We can’t make our surveillance too obvious, after all,” Miller said, shaking his head. “I actually obtained the exact whereabouts of his location from a new, rising source in the town.”
Francesca nodded, a bit curious about the source but not enough to ask. “Ah... and just to be absolutely clear, Miller, try your best to remain calm regardless of whatever nonsense he says today, okay?”
Miller simply nodded absentmindedly, locked onto her serious expression. Suddenly, Francesca’s lips curled into a triumphant smirk.
“Show! I won this round!” she declared, slamming her hand of matching cards flat onto the wooden surface.
“As if this isn't your very first win in the last three games! I am still significantly ahead, you know,” Miller countered playfully. Francesca chuckled, leaning back. “That is only because you didn’t properly know how to play the rules at first, so I deliberately went easy on you.”
Miller sighed with a fond smile, leaning over to pick her up from her seat. “Fine, fine, you win. Now, we really have to get moving and wash up. It’s already getting way too late.”
“Yeah,” Francesca sighed, her gaze turning toward the window. “Ivan will be arriving at the gates anytime now.”
North Gate, Lord’s Castle, Ironwood Viscounty
The expansive grounds of the North Gate had been completely cleared of the heavy snow from last night in the middle of the summer, allowing Francesca to easily navigate the path toward the main entrance. She held her cane firmly in one hand for balance, while Miller provided a rock-solid, supportive arm on her other side. The Viscount couple stood in quiet anticipation just as a luxurious carriage pulled by a team of dynamic horses arrived right on schedule.
The moment the carriage ground to a smooth halt directly in front of them, the heavy door swung open. A knight with neatly cut brown hair, clad in gleaming half-armor, stepped out with his head held exceptionally high. Once his boots hit the stone, he offered Francesca a bright smile and a wave, quickly placing a velvet stair stool onto the ground.
“That bumbling knight is Sir Albert, Ivan’s personal guard,” Francesca whispered discreetly to Miller, identifying the man just as the primary occupant finally stepped out of the compartment.
A handsome young man dressed in an exceptionally luxurious, fur-lined coat emerged. He possessed the exact same distinct, identifiable silver hair and piercing golden eyes as Francesca.
With a confident smile, he walked up to the waiting couple.
“Welcome to the Ironwood Viscounty, young Lord Ivan,” Miller greeted him with formal nobility etiquette. Francesca added a smooth, concise, “Welcome.”
Ivan smiled, his golden eyes sweeping over them. “I am incredibly grateful that you personally traveled down to the gates to welcome me, Lord Miller.” Side-eying his sister, his smile turned distinctly sharper as he added, “And you as well, dear sister.”
He looked around at the imposing stone architecture of the castle and the towering mountain walls looming in the distance, before turning his focus squarely back onto Francesca. “You know... I never imagined that you, a desperate wannabe high-society socialite, would ever end up living here so happily.”
Hearing the subtle barb, Miller instinctively held Francesca’s hand a fraction tighter at his side.
Francesca, however, simply maintained her flawless noble mask. She smiled sweetly and replied, “So did I, Ivan. After all, who could have ever guessed that a wannabe high-society socialite and a wannabe magical artifact researcher… siblings would end up meeting like this again in the far North?”
A heavy, dead silence instantly descended upon the courtyard. A lone, freezing gust of northern wind blew past the three of them, rustling their coats for a few agonizing seconds.
Then, Ivan suddenly burst into a loud, artificial chuckle. “Ha... ha, ha, ha!”
At the exact same time, Francesca joined in with an equally artificial, high-pitched laugh. “Ha, ha, ha!”
Both silver-haired siblings stood there, awkwardly laughing continuously at each other without a single ounce of genuine warmth.
Thoroughly confused by the bizarre aristocratic display but trying his absolute best to support his wife, Miller forced a rigid smile and joined in as well. “He... He, he, he.” Standing together in the snowy courtyard, all three of them continued to laugh out loud, creating an incredibly tense, odd spectacle beneath the castle walls.
Emerald Academy, Capital City of Inidal Empire
“What is that letter about, Alan?” Serena asked curiously, leaning in as she sat right next to him in the crowded commoner cafeteria section of the academy.
“Just some general information about the current happenings back home, I guess,” Alan replied smoothly, folding the parchment back up and sliding it into his uniform pocket before returning to his meal.
“So, what exactly does it specify, though?” Raymond questioned from across the table, pausing between bites of his food. He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “And more importantly, how is this gossip report supposed to help you with that grand revenge of yours? Lest you forget, you borrowed a hefty sum of money from me just to pay the courier informant for it.”
“Yeah, yeah, I will pay you back with interest, don't worry,” Alan murmured.
Taking a bite of his food, he casually picked a small cherry tomato out of his side dish and placed it gently onto Serena’s plate. Raymond, noticing the gesture, seamlessly did the exact same with his own tomato.
“The report says my cousin’s reputation has suddenly been turning highly positive throughout the entire Viscounty,” Alan explained, his expression darkening slightly. “There is technically nothing I can do to stop it from all the way out here in the Capital, but I think keeping a strict track of what’s happening up north is a necessary precaution.”
“Hmm,” Raymond nodded understandingly.
Serena let out a dramatic sigh, looking down at the pile of vegetables on her plate. “You two... Just because I casually mentioned once that I happen to like cherry tomatoes does not mean you are obligated to give yours up every single time!”
She complained lightheartedly, though she still popped one into her mouth anyway. Chewing thoughtfully, she added, “Besides, receiving personal letters through the academy’s official mail routing system will easily be tracked by the higher-ups. Next time, I know a discreet alternative route you can use to get them without landing in the academy administration's crosshairs.”
“Oh? You mean that secret courier network you constantly use to communicate with your endless trail of wealthy admirers outside the gates?” Raymond commented with a knowing chuckle.
Alan nodded along in agreement, raising an eyebrow at her. “I have to concur. How on earth do you manage to keep so many high-class men completely on the hook while living full time under the confines of the academy?”
“You need a rare, refined talent for that sort of thing, you know,” Serena scoffed proudly, tossing her hair back.
Without a single second of delay, both Raymond and Alan spoke in absolute unison. “A talent for being a shameless gold digger, that is.”
“Hey!” Serena protested loudly, glaring at the two of them as a deep pout formed on her lips. Folding her arms tightly across her chest, she snapped back, “I am not a gold digger, you idiots! I am simply securing necessary financial investments from my highly dedicated romantic sponsors!”