Chapter 23
The man standing before them was the same street hustler who had taken them earlier that afternoon to the house with the yellow roof.
“I knew we would meet again! Young master, once may be coincidence, but twice is fate! So, where shall I take you this time?”
“Ugh! You vulgar wretch! Do you really think I came to this filthy place because I wanted to? I’m here purely for intelligence gathering!”
“Ohhh, intelligence gathering! If you could just give me a small hint about what kind of information you’re after, I’ll do my very best!”
“I need to find out more about a man named Wesley whom I met earlier today.”
Helena leaned in and whispered into the hustler’s ear.
“Do you know where Wesley usually goes?”
“Ohhh, young master! I happen to know the tea house he frequents. It’s called Plemen.”
“Good. Then we’ll go to Plemen.”
“As you wish, young master! I’ll guide you!”
“Alright! To Plemen! For intelligence gathering!”
“Hahaha! The young master is on the move! Everyone, clear the way!”
Aaron, who had been watching Helena’s antics with a blank expression, suddenly felt the urge to return to the House of Isphen on his own.
But he couldn’t—because of the deep lessons his sisters had ingrained in him.
‘Aaron, you must always treat women well, no matter the situation.’
He looked up at the sky.
“Sisters… even in a situation like this, do I still have to follow that?”
For a moment, it felt as if their faces appeared in the darkening sky.
They were all smiling and nodding.
Aaron, looking like a man being led to slaughter, followed Helena with a deathly expression.
When he lifted his head again, she suddenly stepped into Benjamin’s thoughts.
Perhaps it was because of the sunset that had taken over the sky above.
That day… the dress she wore was that same color.
On the first day they met, Helena’s dress as she descended the stairs connected to the banquet hall of the Winston Count’s estate was the exact color of the glowing sunset.
As Benjamin climbed the hill where the Isphen Count’s castle stood proudly, he recalled her from that day.
He had heard rumors from a shop clerk while borrowing formal attire—that her sudden engagement had a reason.
People said Helena Winston was a woman being pushed into marriage, burdened by a dowry tied to disgrace.
But the woman he met that day did not look like that at all.
Her confident smile had the power to turn those who doubted her into petty fools, and her dignified beauty shook even his heart—the man assigned as the political marriage partner meant to bring her shame.
He could not deny it.
That moment, during their first dance, when they knew almost nothing about each other…
It was the only time he had been freed from everything binding him, able to lose himself completely in one person.
Of course, that magic was brief. The moment her gaze—like a mysterious forest pulling him in—vanished before his eyes, what followed was belated self-loathing.
He was cursed. A sinner.
He had no right to hold anyone in his heart.
Perhaps that was why.
“You seemed to be enjoying yourself. I assume you liked your future wife. I’m glad.”
He had sharply denied Aaron’s words more harshly than necessary.
“She’s a typical depraved noblewoman. Dragging men around like she’s some queen—pathetic.”
Even as he insulted her, part of him had hoped the rumors weren’t true.
But Helena Winston met Prince Rufus again. On the morning of her wedding, no less.
Thinking of her clinging to the balcony with Rufus made him feel a strange irritation, as though measuring how far human anger could go for meaningless reasons.
“She looks like she might collapse at any moment, yet the moment you look away she stirs up trouble.”
Crossing the drawbridge over the moat, Benjamin looked up at the castle with an annoyed expression.
Helena’s energy was astonishing. In just one day after arriving, she had somehow recruited a capable steward and was now busily organizing workers to repair and improve the estate.
He had no reason to welcome the change.
But he also had no means to stop her.
Before meeting her, he had assumed she would be unable to do anything if left in a separate residence.
But this was Helena. Unless she was physically restrained and locked away, she could not be stopped.
Even if she were locked up… she’d probably break everything and escape.
As he dismounted, a small, diligent steward ran up to him.
“Master, you’re back!”
Benjamin sighed.
The young steward named Jo was difficult in a completely different way from Helena.
She slipped into his space so naturally while smiling brightly, and she was so small he couldn’t even push her away harshly.
Jo held out both hands respectfully.
“May I take your cloak?”
“No need.”
“Pardon?”
Jo’s light green eyes immediately welled up.
“I’m sorry… I overstepped…”
Unlike Helena, whom he could at least argue with directly, this tiny steward made him uncomfortable—like she might burst into tears at a touch.
“….”
In the end, Benjamin had no choice but to remove his dusty cloak and hand it over. Jo immediately smiled as if she had never been about to cry.
This is insane.
But Jo didn’t leave. Instead, she hesitated and followed behind him.
Benjamin stopped and turned.
“What is it?”
“Master… the lady has gone out.”
“Let her. She never sits still anyway.”
He turned away, relieved—but Jo hesitated and said,
“…To Gohar.”
Benjamin froze.
“Where?”
Swallowing nervously, Jo repeated.
“To the trading city of Gohar. Of course, she did not go alone. Sir Aaron accompanied her.”
“That’s insane. Why there?”
“Well… it seems she went to find your former steward, Wesley.”
Benjamin’s eyes widened.
He had no one to blame but himself. He was the one who had mentioned the former steward without even knowing where he was.
He had casually brought up Wesley without investigating anything, and had completely forgotten it when Helena, in her own way of showing gratitude, had written “thank you” on his back—something he had found oddly endearing.
With a long sigh, he took back his cloak and threw it over his shoulders.
Plemen was a small teahouse along the main road. When they opened the lavender-colored door, a sweet, slightly intoxicating fragrance greeted them.
At that moment, Sir Aaron suddenly began sneezing.
“Aaaaa—achoo!”
“What is wrong?”
“Ugh, Lady Helen… my eyes are suddenly so itchy. And my nose…”
“What is this? The scent?”
Helena frowned but felt fine herself.
A strangely smiling madam approached them.
“Welcome, guests.”
“Achee—achoo!”
“Oh my, it seems that gentleman over there is not suited for our establishment.”
Helena looked at Aaron with pity.
Strangely, his eyes had swollen into something like macarons.
The madam said in a purring voice,
“I think he will feel better once he steps outside. And what about you, sir with the impressive moustache?”
“I’m staying!”
Helena said proudly.
“I’ll be fine on my own. There should be someone here who knows Wesley. Call him.”
The madam narrowed her eyes and looked her up and down.
“So you’ve heard the rumors about Nero. But Nero is not so easily open-hearted. You may not even be able to touch him. Are you sure?”
“Just call him.”
“Nero is also quite expensive.”
“Haha, don’t worry about the bill. That macaron-eyed man will pay.”
The madam laughed softly.
“Very well. This way, please.”
After leaving the teahouse, Aaron immediately found a basin and washed his face.
After some time in the cold water, the irritation subsided.
“Hah… hah… what was that?”
It felt like he had been bewitched.
Unable to enter the shop but still determined to protect Helena, he sat on the steps outside.
How much time had passed?
Aaron encountered someone completely unexpected.
“Your Grace!”
Riding a black horse along the main road, Benjamin turned his mount toward the voice.
He dismounted, his cloak fluttering, and walked straight up to Aaron.
“Where is that woman?”
