Chapter 7
“Welcome, young master.”
On the day Rashid returned to the main house, Butler Harris and Knight Commander Roben Heinz were the ones who came out to greet him.
“We apologize. It’s a particularly busy time, so only the two of us could come to welcome you.”
Rashid didn’t fully believe Harris’s words.
Managing a territory meant constant work, and such matters didn’t follow a set schedule.
It was the same with internal affairs—there was never a ‘less busy’ season.
In other words, there was no such thing as a particularly busy time—at least not as an excuse.
“Let me guess. Lady Boren didn’t like it.”
Rashid replied flatly.
With Lady Boren holding tight control over the internal affairs of the ducal estate, most of the staff inevitably took their cues from her.
Knowing how things worked, Rashid didn’t mind that more people hadn’t come to greet him.
“In fact, I prefer it this way.”
He found it easier this way—no fanfare, no forced smiles. Just the right people.
After all, he was welcomed by Harris, his father’s closest aide, and Roben Heinz, the knight commander.
Who else was necessary?
Just the presence of those two would send a ripple through the household, and no doubt enrage Lady Boren.
But…
“Are you looking for someone, young master?”
“…No.”
Rashid shook his head.
He must have expected someone else to show up.
But why? Why had he thought she would come?
There was no reason she should.
He scoffed at himself, a little embarrassed at the ridiculous expectation.
“Shall we head in?”
Following Harris’s lead, he stepped into the main house.
The interior was quiet.
“Thank you for introducing me to such an excellent tutor, Sir Heinz.”
As he walked alongside Harris, Rashid addressed Roben Heinz, who kept pace beside him.
Heinz immediately realized who Rashid was referring to.
“Whether he’s excellent is up for debate. But he’s skilled, no question.”
“Yes, he’s certainly remarkable.”
“If only he had some sense of diplomacy, he might have been more successful.
But he’s too stubborn for his own good. Terrible personality.”
Birds of a feather, huh?
Rashid smiled faintly.
Coming from someone like Roben Heinz—who was also blunt, headstrong, and lacked social finesse—it was almost comical.
After all, Heinz’s presence here, openly greeting Rashid like this, was proof of that very nature.
From just behind, Harris glanced back and asked,
“Are you pleased with your new teacher, young master?”
“Very.”
A rare response from Rashid.
“He’s insightful. Brilliant across many disciplines.”
“I’m glad. It seems you’ve met a good match.”
“…Yes, I think so.”
After a pause, Rashid spoke softly.
“Harris.”
“Yes, young master?”
“Was it my sister who hired him?”
“…Pardon?”
Both Harris and Heinz were startled by the question.
They hadn’t intentionally hidden the truth, but Tericia had asked them to keep her involvement quiet.
Only the two of them knew the full story.
And yet—Rashid had figured it out.
“…You already knew?”
Harris asked, and Rashid gave a small nod.
Adler’s teaching had left a deep impression on him.
No matter what Rashid asked, Adler answered without hesitation. His perspective was entirely different—new, unclouded.
For the first time, Rashid experienced what it truly meant to have a conversation that connected.
He didn’t know Adler had felt the same, but he understood now why people used the word genius sparingly.
Adler Reissfeld was the real thing.
Someone who would go out of their way to bring in a man like that as his tutor…
“Who would care that much about me…”
Bitterness laced Rashid’s voice.
“…No one comes to mind but my sister.”
Ever since their encounter in the garden, Rashid found himself thinking about Tericia from time to time.
He couldn’t forget the look in her eyes—that hesitation, like she had something she wanted to say.
Those vivid violet-red eyes that had held so many emotions as they looked at him—
every time he recalled them, his chest stirred uneasily.
Perhaps that was why…
“You’re a fortunate one, young master.”
When Adler had said those words, the first person that came to mind was Tericia.
“Officially, Sir Heinz introduced the tutor, and His Grace approved the appointment.”
In other words, Tericia’s involvement was to remain a secret.
“…Understood.”
Rashid said nothing more.
“We’ve arrived.”
Standing in front of his new room, they found Sarah already waiting.
As Rashid approached, she bowed respectfully.
Harris opened the door himself and stepped aside to let him in.
Sunlight poured gently through the tall windows.
Rashid stepped inside and took in the room with a quiet gaze.
It had once been overly lavish, but now the space had been tastefully redone in an elegant, traditional style.
The subtle touches of black and soft gold—the colors of House Hespelt—were particularly pleasing.
“…It’s changed a lot.”
“There wasn’t much time, so we couldn’t do a full renovation,” Harris replied.
“It’s not bad.”
Rashid walked slowly through the room, eventually stopping at the window.
Beyond the glass stretched the wide road leading directly to the heart of the estate.
From here, one could feel the weight of what it meant to carry on the glory of Hespelt.
To rule over many.
To protect them.
To be revered.
It was as if this room had been designed to show him the path he was meant to walk.
And because of that—this was the room where all heirs to House Hespelt had lived.
When he was younger, this had been his room too.
Until Lady Boren took it from him—without hesitation.
This room, and Tericia, who had taken it afterward, became a symbol of all that had been taken from him.
“Sister…”
His hand clenched into a fist.
There was something he needed to confirm.
And if his suspicion was right—
“Harris.”
“Yes, young master?”
Where had she gone?
Where was Tericia now—the person who had handed this room back to him?
“…Where is my sister staying?”
***
By now, Rashid should’ve returned to the main house.
Tericia leaned comfortably back on the sofa, sipping her tea.
Recently, she had used a lingering low-grade fever as an excuse to avoid going out.
“Please stop crying.”
“B-but, my lady… your poor, delicate skin…”
The swelling had gone down considerably, but a faint bruise remained.
As Mandy gently dabbed it with concealer, she sniffled uncontrollably.
“It’s just awful. How could she slap you like that…”
“She must be very healthy, to have that kind of strength. That’s… good, I suppose.”
“My lady!”
Tericia had said there was no need for makeup—she wasn’t going anywhere, not even stepping out into the estate.
But Mandy had insisted. And in the end, Tericia had let her do as she pleased.
If it helped Mandy feel better, she didn’t mind.
And so, she sat there, fully made up, casually sipping tea without any plans to leave her room.
Her mind was tangled, but her body felt at ease.
It was the perfect moment to reflect on everything that had happened—and what was to come.
Now that Rashid has returned to the main house… Mother will begin moving in earnest. And Count Clu will likely visit soon.
At some point, her mother had begun to openly treat Rashid as a threat, working to strip him of his authority bit by bit.
The Duke knew—but had turned a blind eye.
And that silence only made her bolder.
Perhaps… he simply believed Rashid should be able to protect himself.
Or maybe—
He never cared for Rashid to begin with.
No gentle words.
No kind glances.
Nothing.
To the Duke, Rashid was the heir of House Hespelt—nothing more, nothing less.
If Count Clu hadn’t coveted Rashid’s position, the Duke might have remained even more indifferent.
Franz, Count Clu.
The Duke’s younger brother—and Rashid’s uncle.
The man who had killed her in her previous life.
Tericia unconsciously flinched.
The spot where the blade had pierced her ached as if remembering the wound.
It was not a memory one could forget easily.
Who could possibly look back fondly on the moment of their own death?
In her previous life, Count Clu had joined hands with Lady Boren, and together they had made Rashid’s life a living hell.
From within, Boren constantly obstructed him.
From outside, Clu schemed endlessly, sowing chaos at every turn.
It would’ve been easy to ignore, had they been minor pests.
But when the two of them aligned their interests, it had become a serious problem.
Tericia refilled her teacup.
The tea was still warm.
“I need to stop those two from forming an alliance.”
Better yet, if she could stir up discord between them…
Wouldn’t that make it easier for Rashid to gain firm control over the duchy?
Both were ambitious.
If pushed just right, maybe they’d turn on each other.
Her thoughts were spiraling deeper down that line when—
“My lady!”
Mandy’s panicked voice cut through Tericia’s musings.
“My lady—look!”
“You can take your time, Mandy,” Tericia replied calmly, thinking she might actually faint from excitement.
“It—it’s the young master! He’s here!”
Clink—
The teacup nearly slipped from her hands.
“…Rashid?”
He came to see her? Why?
“Your face… what happened, sister?”
The moment he saw her, Rashid frowned.
Though she had tried to conceal it with makeup, the swelling on her cheek was still faintly visible.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“……”
But Tericia only smiled gently, a quiet signal: Don’t ask any further.
Rashid looked like he wanted to say more, but closed his mouth instead.
An awkward silence fell between them.
Mandy, sensing the tension, quickly placed tea and sweets on the table before discreetly slipping out of the room.
She’s getting quicker by the day, Tericia thought, feigning distraction.
Rashid, who had been silently staring at the tea table to avoid eye contact, eventually lifted his gaze and looked around the room.
It was a warm space—
modest and cozy, a stark contrast to the room she had previously occupied.
Something about it felt inviting and safe.
His tense shoulders relaxed without him realizing it.
Tericia noticed his gaze, and a soft smile appeared at the corners of her lips.
“Does it feel a bit small?”
She gestured around at the canopied bed, the modest writing desk, the small sofa and table meant for welcoming guests.
Then she gently shook her head.
“For me, this is just right. That room was too large. Too extravagant.”
“I see.”
Yes, that room had never quite suited her.
Back then, Tericia had always seemed unsettled—never truly at ease. Not like she did now.
And if she was content, he had no desire to argue.
“…I thought you’d come to greet me.”
The words slipped out, a quiet confession from somewhere deep inside a feeling he hadn’t even fully admitted to himself.
Only after saying it did Rashid realize it: He’d been waiting for her.