Chapter 24
At the Theater
“Madam, may I come in?”
It was Mason’s voice.
“Come in.”
Blair handed the milk bottle for Bibi to Melly and walked over to the table. On it were documents she had prepared in advance.
She handed Mason the papers as he approached.
“Based on the past five years’ budgets, I’ve drafted a new one. Take a look.”
Mason was inwardly surprised. Blair had asked him to bring past budget records, but he hadn’t expected her to actually draft a budget herself.
He had assumed she would skim through the numbers for a bit and then quickly lose interest—since budget documents, full of shifting figures, were exhausting to look at.
Just that persistence alone, he thought, was worth praising.
Mason began reviewing the budget Blair had prepared.
Blair fidgeted with her fingers, unable to hide her nervousness as she waited for his judgment.
It felt like being a child again, waiting for a teacher to check her homework.
Mason, maintaining his usual calm and serious expression, furrowed his brow as he examined the document in detail.
As his silence continued, Blair, growing anxious, spoke first.
“It’s just something I made as practice. If I missed anything, please tell me freely.”
“No,” Mason replied. “This is remarkably excellent. It’s hard to believe this is your first attempt, done entirely on your own.”
Blair blinked, eyes widening in surprise.
Mason was not someone who flattered his superiors without reason. Nor was he someone who lied.
So this praise was sincere.
“This year’s budget can be executed based on this draft.”
Her heart pounded.
It was the first time she had been praised since Esmeralda’s death. For her entire life, praise had belonged only to her brother Ivan.
Katrina never wanted Blair to surpass Ivan. Whenever Blair received something better from the emperor, Katrina would resent her as if she had stolen Ivan’s share.
The best things were always meant for Ivan. And if Blair had something Ivan didn’t, Katrina would take it from her daughter to give to her son.
Blair, starving for even a shred of that maternal affection, had hidden her talents. She never allowed herself to shine brighter than Ivan—never better, never more noticeable.
She lived that way for twenty years.
Until, at some point, she stopped believing in her own worth at all.
It had become natural that Ivan was better.
So receiving praise now made her throat tighten painfully with emotion.
Ah.
So I can do something well too.
I can be recognized too.
That forgotten truth finally felt real again.
“Of course, there are some parts that could be improved…”
Mason continued, carefully pointing out revisions in a precise but respectful tone.
Blair listened attentively like a diligent student.
By the time their discussion ended, a knock came—and Lyna entered.
“Madam, just now—”
She stopped mid-sentence upon noticing Mason, then quickly fell silent. Mason discreetly excused himself.
Once he left, only Blair, Lyna, and Melly—who was tending to Bibi—remained.
Lyna glanced at Melly, then leaned closer and whispered so only Blair could hear:
“The Guild has contacted us, Madam.”
Meanwhile, in the carriage.
“Recent mining operations in the northwestern manastone site are proceeding smoothly…”
Hedrin stared out the window, his expression unreadable as the scenery passed by.
Everything was going smoothly. Business, and the search for Blair’s lost memories.
A month ago, Agnes had come to report progress. She had said she was starting with happy memories first.
“Your wife’s happiest memories often include the former Empress. Perhaps that’s why she avoids recalling anything—she may be afraid that someone she trusted so deeply tried to kill her.”
“And even if that person might have been wrongly accused?”
“She was eleven years old at the time. At that age, she could only think of herself.”
“And I’m often in those memories too.”
“Because she trusted you. Loved you.”
Hedrin had dismissed it with a laugh.
Love? Ridiculous.
Blair’s memories likely included him simply because he had been close to Esmeralda.
Still, he couldn’t fully dismiss Agnes’s words.
And that annoyed him.
He had been avoiding Blair since the New Year festival.
He would not be deceived again by that innocent face.
The carriage turned—and his gaze stopped.
A familiar figure.
Blair.
She stepped out of a hired carriage, dressed in a deep green cloak. No escort in sight.
She entered the back of a theater.
Hedrin’s expression darkened.
“Do you even listen to me?” Hedrin said.
But he ignored his aide’s report entirely.
“What’s that theater showing?”
“A play about ancient beast guardians. But it’s also—well, a well-known place for discreet meetings between nobles.”
“Discreet meetings?”
“Yes.”
Hedrin’s eyes turned cold.
Blair had gone into a theater known for secret lovers.
“Meetings…”
One word echoed in his mind.
A name.
“Achiel…”
Inside the theater.
Blair was led to a private VIP lounge.
Inside, a man stood by the window with a glass of wine.
Mikhail.
Unlike before, he wore an expensive tailored suit. No glasses.
Without them, his face looked sharper, more refined.
“Was the journey difficult?” he asked.
“Not particularly.”
She immediately got to business.
“Is the property purchase in the kingdom complete?”
Mikhail laughed softly.
“No chance to even breathe, I see.”
He handed her a coin engraved with foreign text: “The Last Cup of Clania.”
Then a wooden token—proof of identity.
“Take this to Azzenta and you’ll receive the documents.”
“Good work. Payment will be sent tomorrow.”
They turned to the stage.
A play about mythical beasts—sacred creatures called Shinsu.
Helios, the last Shinsu, and Arwen, a human knight.
But then—
A faint sound slipped through the wall.
A woman’s moan.
Blair froze.
“This theater is like this,” Mikhail said casually.
“A place for secret lovers. That’s why the plays are loud enough to mask everything else.”
Blair turned bright red.
How obscene…
And yet she planned to stage scandals after divorce?
Mikhail watched her reaction with amusement.
“So, after your divorce… what will you do?”
“Business.”
She intended to use knowledge from her past life to fund it.
Not to steal ideas unfairly—but to reclaim what would otherwise belong to her brother.
A painting. Something Ivan would later brag about but only after it had become valuable.
If she acted early, she could secure it first.
As the play continued, Mikhail skillfully kept her attention away from the sounds next door.
When it ended, he escorted her out.
At the door, he stopped.
“My escort ends here. It’s not time yet.”
Blair frowned.
“Are you a noble?”
“I’m glad I seem like one.”
He avoided the answer.
Then kissed the back of her hand.
“Until we meet again, Madam.”
Back at the estate.
“Where is the Duke?”
“He returned earlier.”
Blair’s heart sank.
And then—
She saw him.
Hedrin.
Standing outside her room.
Cold-eyed.
Waiting.
