Chapter 12
Cassian sat in the carriage returning to the capital, biting his lip. The weight of returning to the capital with nothing accomplished pressed down on him as if he could sink into the ground.
When he arrived at Erel, he hadn’t expected this outcome. Cassian Geraint had underestimated Ibria Oberon. She had always complied easily when he smiled and made demands, so he had assumed she would do the same this time.
‘All she’d have done was say, “Just give me a kiss,” while gripping my skirt tightly.’
Until now, Cassian had faithfully responded to her requests. A little physical affection between fiancés was natural. He considered it part of a fiancé’s duty. In exchange for supporting his claim to the throne, such minor services were cheap.
It was an incredible stroke of luck to have such an easily manipulated asset fall into his hands. His mother had agreed as well. She was relieved that Ibria liked someone other than Ridan and urged him to hold onto her firmly.
Even after breaking the engagement to love Catherine, he wasn’t too worried. After all, it was Ibria Oberon—she would blush at the sight of him, couldn’t meet his gaze properly, and generally fawned over him in helpless affection. Approaching her and coaxing her would be simple.
‘But she’s completely different now…’
Cassian remembered Ibria looking him straight in the eye. On reflection, it seemed her face hadn’t even turned red.
‘She really doesn’t like me anymore?’
It had been a love he had taken for granted. He had never valued it, but losing something he once held naturally left him feeling bitter.
Moreover, Ibria’s affection had strategic importance. He recalled his mother stressing the importance of securing power.
‘Cassian, do you know how many times a crown prince has actually ascended the throne in our kingdom? Twice. Only twice. Many crown princes were pushed aside by rival princes. But you—I intend to be the third case.’
His mother had spoken confidently, yet carefully.
‘But remember, becoming crown prince doesn’t mean everything is over. Until the moment the crown rests on your head, the throne isn’t truly yours. You have to gather power and stand at its center.’
Among all the influential families, the Oberons were the cream of the crop. Honor, power, wealth, influence—everything. He couldn’t let this slip away.
The queen opposed Cassian’s engagement breaking, but he couldn’t give up marrying Catherine. So he had been confident: even if he broke the engagement, he could still manipulate Ibria’s feelings and secure the Oberons.
‘Once had, affection can be regained. It won’t be difficult.’
After Cassian left, peace returned. Fragrant tea, sweet cake, a warm fireplace. Anyone spouting nonsense was neatly dealt with.
Could life get any more perfect? Nothing was required of her. She wasted time lounging endlessly, yet no one complained. It was a very satisfying day.
Except for one tiny detail—a certain demon who was busy tormenting her hair with his fingers.
“Contractor, are you happy?”
“Yes.”
“Really? I see… the contractor is happy. And here I am, so gloomy. Lucky you, contractor, being happy…”
Harry murmured wistfully. He was signaling for someone to ask why he was so glum, but she had no intention of playing along.
‘It’s probably going to be something about wanting blood or killing someone.’
If she reacted, it would only get bothersome. Pretending not to hear, she sipped her tea. This time, Harry began grumbling theatrically.
“I’m doing all this for the contractor’s happiness! I even dealt with that obnoxious blonde brat! And the contractor doesn’t care about my gloom at all! So unfair! Why is my life like this?”
“That’s fine. Thanks to you, that brat got properly humiliated.”
She pictured Cassian lying on the floor and the bewildered knights trying to help him up. Even thinking about it brought a satisfied smile. Harry noticed and eagerly pushed his face closer with a grin.
“If you think that, how about giving me a reward?”
“A reward?”
“Yes! My dog did something good, and you’re not going to let that slide? There’s etiquette to rewards, you know.”
“Etiquette? Are you a demon? Aren’t demons the least likely to follow any sort of etiquette?”
“There’s always one demon in the world who cares about etiquette.”
“That’s you, Harry?”
“Yes.”
He only followed etiquette when it was convenient—but he had thrown Cassian to the ground before she even asked him to.
‘A reward, huh?’
“Very well. Good job, our Harry.”
She praised him, running her hand through his silver hair.
‘Even demons have nice hair. And their skin looks amazing too.’
Harry’s eyes widened as her fingers moved through his hair, and soon his face flushed bright red. He pushed her hand away and stepped back.
“What are you doing?”
“You asked for a reward, right? That’s why I’m praising you and petting your hair.”
“Rewards are for dogs, not demons!”
“The dog did something good, so isn’t that a reward?”
Harry pouted, his face bright red.
“Listen, contractor, you don’t understand. I’m not a demon to be treated like this!”
“Oh, yes, of course you’re not.”
She nodded knowingly and gestured to the opposite sofa.
“Sit quietly and eat some cake, Harry. It’s really good.”
“What do you mean by ‘sit quietly’? You don’t know a thing.”
Harry grumbled but obediently sat on the opposite sofa. Taking a bite of cake, he smeared cream around his mouth and snorted.
“Yeah. My mistake for expecting anything from you. Give me more cake.”
“Alright. How about chiffon cake?”
“…With strawberries on top.”
Harry pouted but made his preference clear before turning into his dog form. She laughed quietly, pulling Emma with the string.
Not long after, Emma arrived and was shocked at the empty table. Five slices of cake had disappeared. Four of those went into Harry’s stomach, but she didn’t know that. To Emma and the other staff, it seemed the mistress was a voracious eater.
Still, Emma quickly adapted to her appetite—or rather, Harry’s. Calmly, she asked:
“Would you like more cake?”
“Yes. Bring chiffon cake. Whole, uncut.”
“Yes.” Emma smiled as she cleared the empty plates.
“The kitchen is a little busy, but if it’s for the lady’s cake, we’ll gladly prepare it. Would you like more tea as well?”
“Yes, please. But is the kitchen really that busy?”
“They are preparing for many guests soon. It’s an annual event we’re used to, so there’s no need to worry.”
“Annual event?”
“Yes. Knights come from the capital to clear the Black Forest.”
The Black Forest was a massive forest bordering northern Erel. It was also where she burned black ironwood in her fireplace.
“Knights come from the capital just to clear a forest?”
“Oh, you’re not from Erel, so you wouldn’t know.”
Emma explained, as it was so obvious to her that she assumed the mistress would know too.
“You know wyverns live in the Black Forest, right?”
Of course, she didn’t. She didn’t even know what a wyvern was. But Emma spoke as if it were common knowledge, so she nodded and quickly asked Harry.
[Harry, what’s a wyvern?]
[A wyvern? You’ve never seen one?]
[No. Never.]
[Well, you’re from the capital, so you wouldn’t. They live deep in the forest.]
Harry excitedly began explaining, clearly thrilled to show off his knowledge.
[They’re dragon-like beasts, but nasty and hard to tame. They’re carnivores, so humans see them as enemies. Big, strong, and can fly—hard to beat.]
[Even for you, Harry?]
He looked at her in disbelief. “Are you comparing me to that?”
[I’m Theocharis, the Blue Flame Archmage and demon!]
[Ah, sorry. Forgot for a moment.]
[Well, it’s lucky you only forgot for a moment.]
As Harry sprawled on the sofa, Emma continued:
“When the weather warms, wyvern eggs begin to hatch. The young wyverns are strong and grow fast, so the eggs must be destroyed before hatching. Otherwise, their numbers multiply too quickly and become unmanageable.”
“Wait, knights come from the capital just to destroy eggs?”
“Yes. Adult wyverns guard their nests, so it’s not easy. Our Erel workforce isn’t enough, so we get royal support every year. If wyverns attack the northern trade routes, the crown’s supplies would be cut, so the royal family helps us.”
Royal support, huh.
‘Kind of worrisome.’
Hoping her worry was unfounded, she asked Emma:
“Do the knights stay at our mansion?”
“Yes. But they’ll stay in the annex, so you shouldn’t meet them. Oh, some will be in the main building too.”
“Them?”
“Crown Prince Ridan Geraint and Royal Knight Commander El Roitz.”
The two fish in Catherine’s pond who despised Ibria.
‘First the crown prince was chased away, now these two?’
From afar, she could hear the sound of her peace crumbling.
News arrived that the wyvern hunting party from the capital reached Erel. The group included First Prince Ridan Geraint and Royal Knight Commander El Roitz. Fighting one of them was tiring enough—two coming was daunting. She already had a headache from the foreboding.
It was well-known that Ridan and Ibria’s relationship was terrible, but El Roitz and Ibria weren’t much better.
The epitome of a righteous knight, he followed laws and rules strictly—the nobility among nobles. How would such a textbook knight view Ibria, who wouldn’t hesitate to commit any cowardly act to torment Catherine? Despite her actions, he held genuine admiration for the saintly Catherine.
‘In the novel, he seemed like he despised her, even less than worthless scum.’
Fortunately, he only thought this internally and showed no outward behavior. He firmly believed it was a knight’s duty to protect ladies. From his perspective, Ibria was still a lady he had to protect, so he internally scorned her constantly.
Compared to other fish who directly humiliated Ibria, he was mild. Still, the relationship was bad.
‘I should stay in my room as much as possible. That’s my specialty anyway.’
Even though it was the main building, it was large enough that minimizing movement would prevent encounters. She resolved to stay confined and nodded vigorously.
