Chapter 1
It was a day when rain poured endlessly from the sky.
Lorren was the only heir of the former Viscount Siaz. Though she had been powerless in the sudden death of her parents and had her title stripped away, her father had at least ensured her name was listed as a legal heir. According to her uncle’s orders, she was to meet a lawyer, confirm the list of her father’s remaining assets, and then visit the bank.
Lorren let out a faint, amused laugh.
Who, knowing everything would be taken away, would obediently return to claim their inheritance?
Her greedy uncle was, in contrast to his avarice, not very intelligent. And unlike her father—who had been sharp of mind—her cousin, frail in body and timid of spirit, would never become a knight by any normal means.
So Lorren secretly sold the jewels she had brought out with her. They were gifts from her parents for her birthday, despite the impoverished state of their estate. They were precious to her, but it could not be helped. Her parents would have preferred she survive by any means rather than be sold off as a concubine to an old man.
After confirming the money she had in hand, she chose the safest-looking inn she could find.
There was only one way left for her to avoid being sold.
Lorren put on her most valuable dress among her remaining belongings and left the inn. The sky-blue summer dress was slightly worn, but still made of fine fabric and retained its beautiful color. Riding a small hired carriage, she headed toward her destination.
The Duke of Lilliewood’s estate.
The coachman made no effort to hide his displeasure. The current Duke of Lilliewood was rumored to be a ferocious killer, so he was likely afraid something would happen to him near the gates of such a place.
Lorren offered him a gentle smile and slipped him extra payment. Only then did the carriage begin to move, fleeing from her and disappearing into the rain.
Standing before the duke’s estate, Lorren hesitated for a long time under a borrowed black umbrella. She had steeled her resolve before coming, but she still wondered if the duke would even hear her out.
The savage killer.
It was a rumor too harsh to believe, yet such stories did not arise without reason. What if he swung his sword at her for being insolent? He was a man who had fought in war—killing her would be no difficult matter.
Better to die than be sold as an old man’s concubine.
Lorren made up her mind and pressed the doorbell.
A butler appeared from the distant entrance, tilting his head slightly at the sight of her in the rain. Yet without hesitation, he brought an umbrella and opened the iron gate. It was not the behavior expected of a mere servant, but it hardly mattered who he was.
“Good day, young lady. May I ask the purpose of your visit?”
Even soaked in rain, standing alone with no attendants, her dress hem drenched, Lorren was greeted without a hint of surprise.
She straightened her back, drew a slow breath, and spoke.
“I wish to meet the Duke of Lilliewood.”
“The Duke?”
The request seemed unexpected. The butler frowned slightly, considering for a moment. Perhaps he had no intention of leaving her outside in the rain, for he soon guided her inside.
Lorren followed quietly.
Just before she crossed the threshold, she stepped into a puddle she hadn’t seen. Cold water filled her worn shoes. Of course—this was her only pair that matched the dress. It seemed they were ruined now.
“I’m afraid His Grace may not receive you without an appointment. I will inform him of your arrival, so please wait a moment.”
She was led to a reception room. The butler lit the fireplace, served warm tea, and then left.
Lorren noticed his gaze briefly linger on her soaked hem and shoes. It was silent consideration—telling her to warm herself and dry off. The butler of this house was quite competent.
She sipped her tea quietly.
Not long after she finished her cup, a knock came at the door.
The butler returned and informed her that his master would see her.
And then, a man appeared behind him.
Lorren rose abruptly.
Aster Bale Lilliewood.
The owner of this estate.
She had seen his face countless times during the war in newspapers, so she remembered it well. No—she could not forget it.
Hair like molten gold, and green eyes that once shimmered softly.
But the man before her now felt like someone else entirely.
His once-neat golden hair was grown out and loosely unkempt. His eyes had lost their light.
The body that had once been slender as a boy who led armies into war had matured into that of a full-grown man. Dressed simply in a shirt and trousers, he moved with careless ease.
For some reason, her face grew hot, and Lorren lowered her gaze.
He entered, sat heavily on a long chair, and gestured. The butler served him tea.
“Sit,” he said.
Without realizing it, Lorren obeyed.
The man, so used to commanding others, looked at her with cold green eyes that seemed to probe her thoughts.
“I heard you wished to see me.”
His voice was low—almost chilling.
Lorren steadied her breathing and bowed her head slightly.
“I apologize for visiting without an appointment. I am Lorren Secreta Siaz.”
He tilted his head.
“So?”
This was it. If she failed to interest him, she might die here.
Though afraid, she refused to look weak. She straightened her back and met his gaze.
“I came here to propose marriage to Your Grace.”
A thunderous roar echoed outside.
A flash of lightning lit the room so brightly it seemed the world itself had turned white.
In that moment, she saw it—the corner of the duke’s lips curling.
A truly terrifying sight.
“So,” he murmured.
“Interesting.”
“Go on.”
Just those words—but the pressure in the room deepened. Lorren swallowed hard.
He leaned back, like a predator that had just finished eating.
“You know I am being pressured into an imperial marriage.”
“I also know you find it distasteful.”
The duke crossed his arms, his gaze still sharp.
“…Not wrong,” he said calmly.
“So?”
Lorren took another breath.
“I believe I can offer what you lack. A competent administrator trained directly by the former Viscount Siaz.”
Silence fell.
Then—
The duke suddenly laughed.
He covered his face, shoulders shaking.
“…Apologies. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard such a confident introduction. Not since the war.”
Lorren’s pride stung.
Her father had been a respected imperial administrator, even if his title was low. He was not a name to be laughed at.
But the duke soon lowered his hand.
“I meant no disrespect. I know your father was an excellent man.”
At that, Lorren blinked.
He was not what the rumors said.
The “savage killer” was unexpectedly… reasonable.
And then—
“I do need capable administrators,” he said. “Especially in my case.”
He tapped the armrest lightly.
Lorren steadied herself.
The duke was a war hero who led not noble knights, but common soldiers. Naturally, he would lack people skilled in internal governance.
Lorren raised her eyes.
The duke’s green gaze shone faintly with interest.
