Duke of Salvador.

Lars, who was wiping the silver sword with a handkerchief, glanced and opened his mouth.

“Your Highness.”

“…Speak.”

“May I ask why you’re just staring at the paper?”

The way it was spoken was very polite, but it had two blatant implications.

“Are you telling me to stop looking at the paper and go to work?”

“By the way, I’m asking you not to kick me out for saying things like that.”

At Lars’ answer, Sor chuckled. However, that smile was terribly emotionless, and even looked like a paper doll flapping.

Of course, Sor was a bit scarier than a paper doll.

Palak. A piece of paper fell from Sor’s fingertips and landed on his desk.

“It’s not a big deal. After meeting with me, she always writes to me that she has returned home, but she hasn’t contacted me today.”

“Oh, was that the paper?”

A newsletter sold at a high price in the temple.

One large page is shared, and if one person who has a piece of the newsletter writes on his/her own newsletter, the same message appears on all other pieces.

The text is preserved for about one full day, and after that period, all newsletters become clean.

However, even though it was such a convenient item, not many people actually own it, and the reason is simple.

Because it’s insanely expensive.

The newsletter didn’t feel very practical to the aristocrats who had many people to deliver the letter, saying that it was an expensive item that could only be bought by shedding a year’s worth of taxes.

So, the nobles rather called the people who bought the newsletter an idiot.

It was the first time Lars had even seen the paper. As he pushed the sword, which had been wiped clean with a gauze towel, back into its sheath, he opened his mouth lightly.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen it myself.”

“You wouldn’t have been in the capital at that time, of course.”

“Yeah, I did hear about it though. When you gave it to her as a gift, her expression was worth seeing. Very-“

“She was very cute.”

Sore laughed softly as he spoke in a dreamy voice. The desolateness of a moment ago, when the paper was falling apart, was nowhere to be seen, and it was just a bright smile as if spring had just arrived.

At the end of his gaze looking down at the paper, the events of that time were replayed.

“I have something for you today.”

And when he held out this paper for the first time, Thisbe had a look on her face saying, ‘Why are you giving out paper?’

She seemed to be satisfied if she folded the flowers out of this paper.

However, that carefree atmosphere disappeared as soon as Sor opened her mouth.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the newsletter sold at the temple.”

“Um, Sor. You don’t mean to say this is the newsletter, right?”

“I don’t think there’s any reason to deny it. This is the newsletter of the temple.”

When Sore answered, rather puzzled, he heard something leaking.

The cause was Thisbe.

While drinking orange juice, she was startled by what Sor said and opened her mouth without realizing it, and in the end, the juice waiting to enter Thisbe’s mouth returned to their place.

Eyes wide open as if she didn’t want to believe what she heard, and small lips that couldn’t close because the shock didn’t go away even after spitting out the orange juice.

How lovely was the surprise that filled her face.

It was a fact that Sor never knew that the other attendants guarding them all burst into laughter at Thisbe’s face and struggled to hold their breath.

Thisbe, who put down the cup and barely wiped her lips, opened her mouth.

“So- Sor.”

“This, this, did you cut it? No, right? You haven’t touched it, right? You can still get a refund, right?”

“It was already cut. I have no intention of getting a refund.”

“How expensive is this! Why did you buy it!”

It was the first time he had seen Thisbe protest so much, so Sor thought she was angry.

So, he immediately apologized.

“I’m sorry. If Thisbe was offended.”

“Oh no, no. I’m sorry for yelling. I’m not angry. I was just surprised. It’s too expensive.”

‘What do you mean my fiancée is a pushover?’ It seemed that Thisbe was muttering so softly to herself.

At that time, it seemed to some extent that Sor could understand the cause of Thisbe’s reaction.

“Is the price a problem?”

“Yeah. Such an expensive gift… it’s too burdensome.”

She said so and closed her mouth. There was no way Sore couldn’t have known that the words “only for a political fiancée,” were hiding behind her closed lips.

So, Sor hurriedly spoke.

“If that’s what you’re worried about, then don’t worry too much. The temple has saved me a lot of money.”

“…Did the temple do that?”

“Yeah. Compared to the cost of making it, there are no buyers, so it’s a problem to accumulate it. So, they sold it to me at a very low price.”

“How much did you sell it for?”

“It was about a third of the cost.”

With those words, Sore could clearly see Thisbe’s expression getting better.

Of course, he could also see Thisbe not believing his words.

So Sor made what he said to be true.

He had to hand over a large sum to the temple and made them sell the newsletter at 1/3 of the price.

For that to happen he had to dispose of one his diamond mine, but it was not a threat to the fortunes of the Duke of Salvador.

Only after she confirmed that her newsletter was being sold at a price that was only 1/3 of the original price, Thisbe apologized for pushing him and began to use her newsletter.

It taught Sore a lot.

One of the things about her is the fact that she doesn’t like taking anything unconditionally for herself.

‘Do you feel embarrassed about being overly burdensome?’

However, she is not obliged to give a gift.

So, Sore began to lie.

-Are you afraid of making mistakes? But everyone else lives like that. The important thing is not to get caught.

If you don’t get caught, there’s nothing wrong with that.

He recalled the advice given to him by a girl he met when he was very young.

(T/n: LMAO this girl ruined our baby Sor)

She looked like a girl of the same age as himself, but there was maturity that was evident in her tone of voice.

In addition, silver hair that looks particularly mysterious under the sunlight, and gold eyes that shine even brighter than that.

As if to tell you that if there was an angel, it would look like her, the girl certainly had a sense of alienation that caught the attention of others.

Because of this, the girl didn’t say anything about her own identity, but Sor was able to know who she was.

More precisely, it would be right to say that the he realized why she was called by that ‘same’ name.

Because no one would have been able to think of the nickname of the saint in front of the gaze of a girl who even looked contemplative and slightly arrogant.

A soft smile appeared on Sor’s lips as he looked back at his memories of his childhood.

Of course, only until Lars, who couldn’t stand the strange change of his master mood, noisily cleared his throat.

“Hmm! Khuh Hmmm, Hmm! Anyway, Sir.”

Soar, whose sentiments had been shattered, lifted his gaze with a smile from his lips in an instant.

He didn’t reply, but he had a gaze that Lars could clearly see that if one made a single mistake, the one in front of him – the one he had just wiped and gleamed before – will be headed somewhere unpleasant.

It was a bloody gaze that made anyone’s mouth close without a squeak if it were any other person, but Lars, as usual, had a free-spirited side of him.

He was also the only one who stood by Sor’s side as he went from battle to battle.

Lars calmly put the dagger into his bosom and opened his mouth.

“If the person who always leave a message doesn’t leave one, doesn’t it mean that she’s already asleep?”

“There may be circumstances that cannot be avoided.”

“Yeah, well. I came in to report to you, sir, but I was curious as you were only looking at the paper the whole time, so I asked.”

When Lars came in to report, Sor was just staring at the paper, so at first Lars thought that he was trying to make fun of him again.

Of course, carefully, he said “Sir?” and as soon as Lars spoke, the answer to wait was given, so Lars knew it wasn’t the case.

So he decided to sit down on the couch and sharpen his knife until his reticent master calls him back.

The problem was that while Lars waited, he cleaned all the knives he had, but Sor showed no sign of ending the wait.

Because the dagger he just put in was the last one.

“Can’t you just stop waiting now?”

“Last time she wrote a letter late.”

However, what came back to Lars’ words was an absurd answer. Sor looked at the paper with a somewhat lonely expression and continued speaking.

“I didn’t expect her to not to go to bed early like she said back then, so I didn’t wait. Do you know what happened then?”

“Well, the message disappeared without Your Excellency seeing it…”

…Sh*t. That’s right.

Lars cursed inwardly. The reason is, because as soon as he answered, Sor suddenly looked depressed like a wet rabbit.

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