chapter 12
Returning to his small office, Heros slowly lowered his head.
His face was flushed all the way to his ears, and for a long moment, he stared at the floor with trembling eyes.
It felt as if the pounding of his heartbeat echoed in his ears.
Soon, on the top page of the letter he took out from the drawer, there was a clearly written message—encoded in a cipher that only a few could understand—urging his return.
“….”
After reading it, he took out a lamp and burned the letter between his index and middle fingers until it turned crisp.
The faint curl of his lips and the flickering flame reflected in his brown eyes—those were unmistakably the eyes of a villain.
‘If she says she hasn’t changed with that face… I have no choice but to believe anything.’
Within the fire burning in his gaze, he saw the cold, hardened face of the woman who had captivated him.
A crude, one-dimensional troublemaker. Katrin Elemore—who used to make him laugh in disbelief whenever she nitpicked and caused scenes.
With his exceptional powers of observation, it hadn’t been difficult for him to notice that she had changed into someone entirely different.
It had been since the funeral.
—If you open the study door for ventilation, the fire might spread. Evacuate the servants and maids first.
—That won’t do. The confidential documents are more important than their lives. Even if they burn, they must go in and retrieve them.
The memory of her violet eyes, as she struck his cheek without hesitation, surfaced.
—Shut up. Unless you want that place to become your cremation ground.
Her sharp tongue, always pouring out insults, and the noble gaze looking down at him—
Within the stronger, darker aura of a villainess, there was now a clear, unshakable will that hadn’t existed before.
And facing that, Heros realized his own dangerous taste.
Thump, thump, thump.
—I’m sorry, my lady.
Heros let out a ragged breath as his lips curled upward.
Then he hurriedly reached for the place where his heart was pounding.
‘Please treat me even more harshly.’
His closed eyelids trembled faintly.
“As expected.”
While preparing for the opening of the poorhouse—which had quickly progressed after receiving temple approval—some rather irritating news arrived.
Her uncle, Padelmon, had filed a petition in court to halt the poorhouse’s sponsorship and operation.
Since Heros had properly submitted all the documents, the request wouldn’t be approved—but it made one thing clear: Padelmon was boldly reaching for her assets.
“I had hoped Lucia might stop her father after hearing my warning… but perhaps that was too much to expect.”
Padelmon might have simply scoffed.
To someone so skilled in schemes and dirty dealings, an orphaned niece would look like nothing more than a naive child.
Someone who would eventually surrender and open her vault.
“My lady.”
Padelmon had been bribing even distant relatives bearing the Elemore name, all to get his hands on her father’s wealth.
He had likely incited them—claiming that the money they should rightfully share was being wasted by a wicked niece on beggars in the streets.
But she wasn’t someone who would lose in a baseless numbers game.
The original Katrin Elemore had foolishly handed out money little by little to her relatives, only to be dragged to the guillotine by pro-imperial factions—including Padelmon—and her fiancé, Filios.
But she had no intention of ending up like that.
“Ignore it.”
“But… will that be alright?”
“If there’s no response, they’ll be the ones growing anxious. Thinking they’ve set a trap, they’ll end up caught in their own. Padelmon is that kind of man.”
Crossing her legs, she stretched.
Heros, who had been staring at her blankly, lowered his head.
“Understood. Then I’ll reinforce the mansion’s security.”
“Ah, and one more thing.”
Fiddling with what looked like a jeweled bracelet to Heros—but was actually a watch—she continued,
“For this poorhouse event, expand the scale of support. Add supplements and medicine too.”
“To that extent?”
Even what had already been prepared exceeded the combined temporary aid of all the poorhouses in the capital.
“I told you—it’ll serve as a channel for my tax evasion. Might as well make it big and show off accordingly.”
Her gaze lingered on the watch screen.
HP: ♥♥♥♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Of course, that wasn’t the real reason.
Eti’s hearts had dropped to three.
She had thought she had raised his comfort level enough to prevent that for a while…
‘At this point, he’s definitely starving.’
A warning had said that once it dropped to three, physical symptoms would begin to appear.
She couldn’t leave it like this.
‘Take care of your own body first. What are you doing, Eti?’
Raising her favorite character was harder than expected.
“Understood, my lady.”
“And there’s someone I’d like to invite.”
“A guest?”
Recalling the newspaper article from yesterday, she smiled.
“The Scavengers.”
She noticed Heros’s fingers twitch slightly.
It was an organization shrouded in secrecy—one that had even been targeted by the emperor. It was only natural to feel uneasy.
But if she wanted to find Jeffrey Whisler, she had no choice but to approach them. And for now, she needed them to protect herself from Padelmon.
“They’re a secret organization. There’s no way to approach them.”
At Heros’s serious question, she shrugged.
“Don’t worry. I know how.”
Grrr—
The young son of a revolutionary soldier clutched his empty stomach and curled up.
When his father returned from training, he would surely bring bread.
The boy’s father had once been an imperial soldier during the previous emperor’s reign. But after the current emperor seized the throne, he was punished and expelled—and in the chaos, his wife died.
Driven by revenge and dreams of a new world, he joined the revolution.
“I’m hungry.”
The large shared room in the two-story building wasn’t as freezing as their old home, but there was still one problem:
Food.
They were always short on it.
It wasn’t easy for some to go out and earn money either. Most were branded enemies of the imperial faction, making them nearly impossible to hire.
In the end, they survived on dangerous mercenary work and the modest official salary of their commander, Etius von Clyde.
“I just want to eat my fill for once…”
As the boy sat there, mouth slightly open, imagining warm food—
Someone handed him a piece of bread.
“…Commander?”
The boy looked up blankly at Etius.
The man all the adults admired—the great leader, Prince Clyde.
“Is this for me?”
The boy was too young to understand just how high his status was, but he knew he wasn’t someone easily approached.
Still, the savory smell of bread tickled his nose, and he reached out instinctively.
“Your Highness, but that’s yours—”
At Charon’s words from behind, Etius shook his head.
“Hehe, thank you for the meal.”
The boy bowed, and Etius gave a small nod before turning away.
“It’s time for training.”
“But you haven’t eaten anything—”
“The unity of an army collapses first at its weakest point.”
Standing tall, Etius spoke with firm blue eyes.
“For example, when a child longing for his loyal father collapses from hunger. If there’s bread meant for me, give it to them first.”
It wasn’t simply kindness or soft-heartedness.
Etius’s cause was always painfully clear—so much so that he would willingly sacrifice himself for it.
Watching him, Charon let out a deep sigh.
“I will carry out your orders, Your Highness.”
Though his lord walked proudly, radiating strength, giving away even the food meant for himself could not possibly leave his health unaffected.
They had endured harsher conditions before—but still, it was deeply worrying.
‘At this rate, even if you succeed in the revolution… you may not be able to lead the new world, Your Highness.’
Tomorrow was the first event of the Sistina Poorhouse—and they were desperately waiting for it.
A poor harvest had nearly doubled prices over the past week.
It had been almost three days since their lord had eaten properly.
Meanwhile, Etius stepped into a shadowed clearing and raised his sword.
In his clear blue eyes, there was no trace of hunger or fear.
Driven by the energy of his unwavering soul, he moved without hesitation.
