Your words are somewhat of a leap.
Jes again held back what he wanted to say and went along with his lord's words.
"Contract...... Well, a marriage certificate could be called a contract if you want to call it that."
Without paying attention to his subordinate's reluctant response, Ian stared at the table. His gaze, which was usually sharp to the point of being razor-edged, was strangely vacant.
"My fiancée is getting married?"
No, the engagement was ten years ago, so it's time to forget it.
He himself didn't care at all if that woman found a new life and got married. Whether she met someone and lived happily ever after or not.
It didn't matter......
Didn't......
Crumple-
For a moment he got emotional and unconsciously tightened his grip on the pile of documents.
'Marquis Bringston said his daughter had dreamed of marrying me her whole life, didn't he?'
Watching his lord, who was at a loss in a situation he'd never experienced before, a pleased smile bloomed on Jes's lips.
'He's flustered because he's never been dumped before.'
What to do? This feels so satisfying.
But I must endure it. If I show this, it won't end with just a salary deduction.
Jes bit his lower lip hard to suppress his laughter and immersed himself in serious thoughts.
For example, imagining being trapped alone with Ian in a cave while avoiding assassins.
But Ian is hurt and can't move, and he has to embrace him to warm his body......
'Good, I've become serious.'
Jes opened his mouth with an expression that had become not just serious but somber.
"A pseudonym was used in the name field. All information other than residence was just minimal basic information. Originally, it would have been data not even worth checking. However, the appearance in the portrait uploaded as additional information exactly matched the Bringston marquis's daughter."
"She used a pseudonym?"
Ian asked with a bewildered expression.
"Yes. She seems to have been living as a commoner named Rea Pinbolt. No other detailed information was filled in. The local lord's wife happened to provide identity guarantee, so there were many blanks in the application."
She covered everything up like that but deliberately uploaded only the portrait, which posed the greatest risk of identity exposure?
Why would someone genuinely trying to hide make such a foolish self-destructive move?
Ian pondered for a moment, then snickered.
"She's asking to be found."
"Pardon?"
"Since I haven't looked for her for a long time, she threw out bait herself."
"......Pardon?"
Is he talking about playing hard to get right now? Is he claiming they've been playing hard to get for ten years?
Of course, there were about a truckload of noble ladies who had crushes on Grand Duke Kahiten.
With Marquis Bringston's testimony, our Highness might think such flower-brained thoughts.
But, it's been a whole ten years?
"There's nothing surprising about it. I knew from the time she disappeared on our wedding day that she was a persistent woman. So it wasn't simple disappearance but voluntary escape—I understand well enough what kind of impression she wanted to leave on me."
Ian, misinterpreting Jes's shocked expression, continued while maintaining his characteristic deadly atmosphere.
"Then I should meet her expectations."
But he had no intention of being dragged around as that woman wanted. This time he would face her directly and give her two choices.
Either stop bothering people and live quietly like a dead mouse, or obediently come along and live like a doll.
If she begged for his love at any moment, he was prepared to mercilessly shake off her hand.
"Where does Leticia Bringston...... no, Rea Pinbolt live?"
Ian wrote an aide's external affairs certificate and handed it to Jes. Then he said with the same indifferent expression as always.
"Guide me, Jes. Let's go there immediately."
Jes looked at his action-oriented and charismatic lord with a wan smile.
'It's also a problem when a man with a perfect physique is so worthless.'
Because of that damn obsessive-compulsive disorder, he lived his whole life as this era's iron wall man without even brushing fingertips with approaching women. This is the result.
A popular man with no dating experience.
'He knows he's great, but he knows jack shit about women's hearts.'
That guy thinks others naturally like him.
But Jes, who had been craving an outing, quickly took the certificate and opened the office door.
"It takes about four days from here. We'll be back in no time."
Actually, if they went by train instead of carriage, it was a distance that could be covered in a day and a half, but he exaggerated a bit.
It's a rare break, isn't it? When they return, all that's left is a mountain of paperwork, so he should enjoy it while he can.
They say romance is fantasy and marriage is reality, right?
Though I had struggled to find a matching man who fit the conditions perfectly, after actually having conversations, I didn't feel good about it at all.
The messages I exchanged with that man through Uncle Hans's communication device over the past two days were all like this:
—What were Miss Rea's parents like?
—Just ordinary people.
—Aha, ordinary people! Then what were your parents' jobs?
—Um...... simple farmers?
It's not entirely wrong. Before possession, my father retired early and moved to the countryside to farm.
—Aha! I guess they weren't very studious.
The subtly condescending way of speaking and the rudeness of using informal speech from the very beginning became unbearable at some point.
No. I originally can't endure things well, so it's more accurate to say my realization was late.
'Oh, this is annoying?'
As soon as I thought that, I wrote a rejection message on the communication device.
—Sorry, but I don't think we're very compatible.
A reply came back immediately.
—What do you mean, Miss Rea? I thought we were the perfect match.
I was about to send "No, we're not" expanded into about one line when a crude picture appeared above the communication device.
It was a picture of a man in a white coat holding medical books against a background full of books.
—Why did you send this?
—I wanted Miss Rea to see it and be impressed.
This isn't some museum masterpiece boasting an awesome upper body and modest lower body. What am I supposed to be impressed by looking at a portrait of a skinny man?
I sent another reply with a moai statue expression.
—I really don't think it'll work. I'm sorry.
Then the other party persistently clung on.
—No, Miss Rea. Don't be like that, can't we just meet once? A woman like Miss Rea is exactly my type.
When did he see my face to talk about types?
Since I knew through Baroness Delin's help that all personal information except basic details was omitted, I was just puzzled.
—Don't be like that, just once.
—I'll pay for all the food. Just once.
—There's a restaurant that makes special regional dishes from other areas on the spot as an event. Don't you want to try it?
"......"
After some consideration, I sent a positive answer.
—Okay. But let's meet as soon as possible.
It wasn't particularly that the food attracted me, or that I liked this man.
But my original purpose wasn't to build a happy family anyway. There's no need to meet men according to my standards.
Well, if we don't match, we can adjust. Baroness Delin also said marriage is about respect rather than love, right?
Though Baron Delin doesn't seem to live with much respect for that matter, anyway.
This time too, a reply came back without delay.
—Even tomorrow is fine with me. That restaurant is close to where Miss Rea lives and also close to the top-class 5-star hotel where I'm staying. Oh, do you know? From the top-floor suite where I'm staying, I can even see Miss Rea's village?
'Wow, information I'm really not curious about!'
I started writing 'We really don't seem compatible......' then deleted it and wrote a new message.
—Then let's meet at that restaurant tomorrow at 6 PM.
Only after sending the message did I remember that I didn't have a single dress for going out.
Since I never had dates to go on and kept meeting only people I knew, there were few occasions to dress formally.
'I can't go out in my usual shabby blouse and wool skirt.'
I need to get a dress. As soon as I decided, I contacted Baroness Delin.
After hearing my story, the Baroness stomped her feet and performed an extremely frivolous tap dance, then graciously opened her dress room to me.
"Take anything you want, Miss Rea!"
I borrowed just one dress. Among the colorful dresses, I chose one that looked relatively plain.
It's not that I dislike bright yellow and red dresses, but during my fugitive days, wearing only achromatic colors became a habit, so I naturally gravitated toward dark tones.
"Oh my, Miss Rea. Will that be okay?"
Baroness Delin looked surprised at the black dress I picked up.
"Isn't it suitable?"
"Mm, Miss Rea is quite daring."
Is that so? Is it daring?
I examined the dress's surface. It wasn't too flashy, nor was it extremely revealing—what's the problem?
I ultimately couldn't understand what the Baroness meant and decided on the black dress for my date outfit.
"I'll take this one."
And when I returned to the cafe late at night, I immediately regretted it.
Well, I should have tried it on before deciding. Why didn't I try it on? Even though the Baroness and I are similar sizes......
'Why? Because it was bothersome.'
Looking at the disaster I had brought upon myself in the mirror, I let out a long sigh.
The right side of the black dress was split open from thigh to ankle.
"This is a bit much, isn't it?"
When I went to ask Roche, he lowered the book he was reading slightly and glanced at my appearance.
"It looks fine?"
"Really? Isn't it too overwhelming for a first meeting?"
"You said you're meeting at a restaurant. It's not bad as an evening dress."
When he put it that way, it seemed that way too.
"Aren't you being too liberal because you're an elf?"
"What are you talking about? This is the north, Miss Rea."
"Ah."
Well, northern people are open-minded in many ways.
Unlike the mainland where TPO is thoroughly observed even for a single meal, these people just think it's enough to eat deliciously and well.
The fact that the noble Delin family and the village people get along without major discrimination is all possible because of this open atmosphere—it would be unimaginable on the mainland.
"You're right. You're correct."
"Right?"
"Yeah. I'll go with this."
Actually, aside from everything else, it's bothersome. Going to borrow a dress twice for such a meeting doesn't make sense financially.
Just as I finished choosing the dress to wear tomorrow and turned around, I met eyes with Chait who had entered the room looking for me.
The guy who had been staring intently at my face lowered his gaze.
Soon his eyes folded prettily, and his lips, as red as his pupils, posed a meaningful question.
"Sister, what is that outfit?"