TRFS 10

Chapter : 10

Screams of agony from the knights rang out one after another in the pitch-black darkness where nothing could be seen.

Cleo watched them with dry eyes and fell into thought.

No reaction at all…

She had deliberately set things up so the knights would tattle, but unlike the others, Enoch remained indifferent.

His reaction was dry, as if he were familiar with handling shadows.

…Which means others must have impersonated me and used shadows to prove themselves.

Unexpectedly, this had already happened several times before.

Magic that used light similar to shadows could easily look like shadow manipulation to the untrained eye.

There had even been people who impersonated Eisenbold using that.

Cleo had tried to approach carefully on the chance it might be him, so this was not exactly good news.

“I’ll need another method.”

She let out a small sigh and turned away. Leaving the deep-rooted shadows behind her, Cleo vanished into the darkness.

“S-someone… help…!”

Returning to his room after finishing work, Reginald rubbed his eyes when he spotted someone walking toward him from the opposite direction.

Was I seeing things? He picked up the monocle he’d set aside for a moment and realized he hadn’t imagined it.

“Not too late, right?”

Reginald stared blankly at Cleo, who smiled casually, then turned his head to look out the window.

Not late? Darkness had fallen outside a long time ago.

“What? Already done for the day? You’re quick.”

“…Most people spend this time with family or sleeping.”

“Really? Guess things were different in my day.”

Just when exactly is ‘your day’?
Reginald made an incredulous face, but Cleo remained utterly consistent in her attitude.

“So? Is he here or not?”

“…He’s still in.”

She sounded as if asking whether an item was in stock, yet strangely Reginald felt no urge to scold or grow angry.

Sighing, he shifted his weight and knocked on Enoch’s office door.

“Your Grace. It’s Reginald.”

Even as he knocked, his eyes were fixed on Cleo.

A deep turmoil flickered there—was he doing the right thing opening this door?

Cleo tilted her head, staring back at Reginald’s disapproving glare. Then, a low voice sounded from inside.

Reginald sighed quietly and turned to Cleo.

“His Grace says now is not—”

“I heard him tell you to come in just now.”

“….”

When Cleo looked utterly dumbfounded, Reginald clicked his tongue and turned the handle.

With a resigned air, he opened the door and stepped inside, Cleo right behind him.

Enoch, standing by the window, turned toward Reginald and the unexpected Cleo trailing after him.

Reginald shifted nervously, glancing between the two.

“You may go.”

“…Yes, sir.”

He bowed and withdrew, shutting the door.

Silence settled over the office. Enoch leaned forward, resting a hand on his desk.

“What brings you here at this hour?”

“Nothing special. Didn’t you ask to see me?”

Cleo tilted her head, and Enoch let out a soft laugh.

He examined her quietly before speaking again.

“Must’ve been doing something very important. I hear you were summoned, yet you didn’t show.”

“I was. For… a number of reasons.”

“Care to tell me?”

“I can, but—are you sure you’ll believe it?”

When Enoch frowned slightly, Cleo smirked.

“When I first came to this castle, you treated everything I said like a lie. So whatever I say now—can you really take it as truth?”

Her calm voice carried an unassailable logic.

Enoch faltered for a moment, straightening his posture.

Brazen, arrogant—even so, something told him her words weren’t hollow.

Meeting the unwavering red eyes fixed on him, Enoch exhaled and spoke.

“Go on.”

“I ran all over looking for a way to solve the Eisenbold family’s financial crisis.”

“And? Did you find one?”

“Who knows?”

A cryptic answer. Clearly, the one at a disadvantage wasn’t Cleo.

If she were bluffing, she’d have claimed she found something.

But she neither confirmed nor denied it—almost inviting him to guess.

Normally Enoch would have dismissed her as spouting nonsense, yet somehow… he wanted to hear more.

With his hands in his pockets, he tilted his head, organizing his thoughts, then slowly looked back at her.

“So you did.”

“That’s not my decision to make—that’s yours.”

“Yours?”

“Oh, sorry. Your Grace the Duke.”

Enoch narrowed his eyes at the flippant correction.

“Everyone knows Eisenbold is poor. And those who come to me hoping to squeeze a coin more out of us always say the same thing.”

“They can fix the finances?”

“Exactly. Then they tell me to invest in them. Of course, only an idiot couldn’t tell they’re scammers just from looking at them—and a little digging exposes them entirely.”

“So you’re saying I’m scamming you too, Your Grace?”

There was unmistakable bite in the honorific.

Enoch’s eyebrow twitched, but he continued, expression composed.

“You seem to understand.”

“Well, sure, I see how you’d think that. But I’m not like those people.”

“How so?”

“They said they could fix it. I went to find a way to fix it. That’s different.”

A word trick, Enoch thought—yet Cleo’s tone was sincere.

“As I said, I’m not the one who decides. Your Grace does.”

“….”

Enoch met her gaze in silence.

In the heavy darkness, their eyes sharpened to blades.

A silence that felt unbreakable—until Enoch fractured it.

Instead of words, he picked up a folded paper on his desk and pushed it toward her.

Her red eyes flicked down, then up.

Her look clearly asked What’s this?
Enoch answered calmly.

“From today, you’ll stay in this estate as a full resident.”

“Meaning?”

“Simply put—you’re being acknowledged as a surviving direct heir of Eisenbold.”

Cleo tilted her head. His attitude had flipped in a day.

Why accept me so easily?

“To be precise, a candidate.”

“Candidate?”

“You don’t think I’d decide something this serious after seeing you once. You’ll have to pass several verifications.”

“Oh, so…”

Cleo let out a soft “ah,” rolled her eyes upward, then grinned.

“You’re going to slowly dig into my background… something like that?”

“….”

“Fine by me. Investigate me, tear my head off, whatever. All I want is to stay here. That’s it.”

She saw right through him after a handful of exchanges. What is this child…?

“Well then, may I go?”

Her voice cut into Enoch’s thoughts. By the time his focus returned, Cleo had already turned to leave.

As she moved toward the door, Enoch spoke again.

“Who are you, really?”

“I told you. Cleora.”

“That your name?”

“A layered meaning.”

She smiled sweetly; Enoch’s brow creased.

Cleo watched him silently, then turned to step out—only to pause.