Chapter 4
Lorren, who had been reviewing documents for quite some time, finally pressed a hand to her forehead.
After a deep breath, she lifted her gaze and looked back and forth between Aster and Letty. Her brows were tightly furrowed, and a sharp glint flickered in her eyes. Startled, Letty dropped the file folder.
“Who reviewed this… and this?”
“Ah, I did, at first…”
“And you mean His Grace personally signed this?”
Letty’s blue eyes darted toward Aster.
Seated lazily on a long sofa with his legs stretched out, Aster finally lifted his head from the documents he had been reading.
“What’s the matter?”
“Did you even check this?”
Her way of addressing him had already reverted back to “His Grace.”
Aster tilted his head slightly and rose with unhurried movements, walking toward the desk. His relaxed motion resembled a well-fed predator.
But Lorren had no time to pay attention to that.
She shoved the documents toward him. He frowned and slowly scanned them. His green eyes followed the lines of text—then rolled up to meet hers.
“I know the contents.”
“Which one is more urgent? This one, or this one?”
Lorren placed another document in front of him.
Aster’s eyes narrowed as he examined it. With a small sigh, he gestured toward Letty.
Under his cold gaze, Letty panicked and bumped his leg against the desk, then awkwardly grabbed the papers while rubbing his shin with a grimace.
“Ah…!”
His blue eyes flickered nervously between Lorren and Aster.
This was a mistake. There was no excuse for it.
Letty lowered his head deeply.
“I’m sorry.”
“What happened?”
“Well…”
The document Lorren had brought was a petition from a trading company asking for tax reductions, claiming it was too difficult to open a shop in the ducal territory.
It was a well-known merchant guild specializing in luxury goods—so famous even Lorren, who had been confined to the Siaz domain, had heard of them. Nobles who loved showing off often used them, so it made no sense that opening a shop would be difficult for them.
Ordinary wealthy citizens might not care, but Lorren knew the ducal territory itself was not wealthy enough to easily sustain such luxury trade. Since the lord of the land lived in the capital, the territory was likely poorly managed.
And she also knew—that was not Aster’s fault. The Emperor was the one who refused to send him back.
But knowing that did not excuse this kind of sloppy paperwork.
Money meant for the territory’s citizens had been diverted elsewhere because of this document.
Lorren’s lavender eyes turned sharply to Letty.
“I thought you were a good person… but do you take bribes?”
“What?! Absolutely not!”
Letty nearly jumped out of his skin.
If it wasn’t bribery, then how did this pass through?
Lorren tilted her head.
“Well then—”
Letty began to stammer out a long explanation.
The man who brought the document had apparently cried in front of him, complaining how difficult his job was, so Letty had hurriedly stamped it without thinking.
Lorren pressed a hand to her forehead again.
“And let me guess. That person was a young, pretty woman?”
“Ugh…”
Letty hung his head.
A classic tactic.
Someone had exploited the fact that the duke’s aide—veteran of military life—had no immunity to women and pushed through fraudulent paperwork.
The “shop in the ducal territory” likely didn’t even exist, or was being used for some completely different purpose. They knew the duke never personally inspected the territory.
“Letty. Six months salary reduction. Fifty percent.”
Letty collapsed, clutching his head.
Aster exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair, clearly irritated.
His green eyes were deeply furrowed.
But Lorren continued without hesitation.
“This is Your Grace’s fault.”
“Mine?”
“You never even check what Letty submits before signing, do you?”
“I have a deputy for that so I don’t have to—”
“That’s not how it works.”
Aster clicked his tongue softly.
“…Fine.”
Lorren’s gaze was icy. Her voice even colder.
The duke actually stepped back half a step.
Letting out a sigh, he glanced at Letty.
“…Three months. Thirty percent reduction. That’s the limit.”
Letty looked like he might cry again, but nodded.
“I understand…”
He bowed to Lorren as well, then left the office, wiping his face.
Silence settled briefly.
Lorren sighed and looked at Aster again.
“You’re not managing your territory properly.”
“I’m busy.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
Aster leaned back, arms crossed, clearly annoyed—but not arguing further.
Lorren exhaled quietly.
Strangely… he didn’t seem like the “savage killer” people described.
He was even joking around.
She had expected someone ruthless, unpredictable.
Instead—
“…He’s actually quite reasonable.”
She thought it without realizing.
And then—
A knock echoed at the door.
Aster checked the clock and straightened.
“It’s already that time.”
“Huh?”
“We’ll stop here for today.”
“Huh??”
Lorren blinked in confusion.
Aster suddenly lowered his head, shoulders shaking.
“What’s so funny?” she demanded.
He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
“You look very intelligent when you’re dealing with documents… so I didn’t expect you to be this amusing.”
“…Excuse me?”
“It’s nothing. Lorren.”
Even when she corrected him, his faint laughter didn’t disappear.
Her own name, so familiar to her, sounded strangely different when spoken in his low voice.
She looked away slightly, biting her lip.
“Let’s go.”
Aster extended his hand across the desk.
After a brief hesitation, Lorren placed her hand in his.
It was large and warm.
Just like it had been in her distant memory—back when he was still a boy.
Waiting outside was the butler, Calvin.
The moment he saw Aster escorting Lorren, his gray eyes widened—then curved.
Calvin always wore a polite smile, but it was usually businesslike.
This time, however, it looked genuinely warm.
“Why are you smiling like that?”
“Nothing at all, Your Grace.”
Calvin quickly erased the smile and replied smoothly.
Aster looked displeased but did not press further.
“Your guest is waiting in the reception room.”
“A guest?”
Lorren tilted her head.
Why would she need to be present for a guest of the ducal household?
But the moment she stepped through the door—
She understood.
The room looked like an entire fashion atelier had been moved inside. It was filled with people—far more than she had seen in the entire manor.
“Thank you for receiving me, Your Grace.”
A dignified older woman bowed.
Aster gave a short nod and sat in the center of the long sofa.
Servants immediately prepared tea on the table.
“Pleased to meet you, Duchess. I am Jasmine Aloria of Aloria Atelier. Please call me Jasmine. It is an honor to be responsible for your wardrobe.”
The woman bowed deeply to Lorren.
Wardrobe…?
Lorren instinctively turned to Aster.
He leaned back casually, sipping tea as if nothing was unusual.
“I thought I told you,” he said. “The Emperor may summon me soon.”
“…Ah.”
Lorren let out a small sound.
Right. The clothes she had brought were not suitable for an imperial audience.
And she had already sold all her jewelry.
So he was preparing new outfits for the dignity of the ducal house.
The atelier had brought everyday clothes, travel wear, and dresses.
Even the formal gowns were clearly extravagant—but necessary.
She was no longer a minor noble lady who could avoid court events.
Half by choice, half by necessity, Lorren offered Jasmine a stiff smile.
Her cheeks trembled slightly.
It wasn’t entirely voluntary.
