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Chapter 11

Adrian looked at the Ocelton once more, a hint of reluctance in his eyes.

"…It's not easy to find one of this quality, is it?"

"Indeed. But I don't think it's worth risking your life over."

He withdrew his gaze cleanly. If Sasha went so far as to mention life and death, then it wasn't to be.

"Understood."

"It seems the captain wasn't born to live an easy life."

…And neither were you, of course.

Sasha Patrick—secretary and mage—turned his gaze to Alexa, who stood frozen.

It wasn't easy anywhere, was it?

Sasha Patrick's expression had shifted markedly from earlier. The previously expressionless man now spoke with a slightly softened face.

"You are the young lady of the McDonner household, aren't you?"

He stepped closer to Alexa.

"I apologize for not recognizing the head of the family."

He smiled gently. He didn't exactly think it was his fault, but there was no need to humiliate a baron's daughter by saying, "I didn't recognize you because of the maid's uniform."

"How did you know—ah… and I'm not the owner of this house."

The phrase "young lady of the household" only made her recent disgrace all the more embarrassing.

Flustered, Alexa ran her fingers through her puffed-up hair, but it remained stubbornly charged with static, refusing to settle.

"The owner is my older brother."

"Ah, that baron?"

"Yes."

Sasha tilted his head at her answer. Then he picked up the remaining oil bottle and began lighting the lamps in the living room one by one.

Alexa was startled to see the oil being used so freely, but she endured it, telling herself it would be deducted from the debt anyway.

"……!"

Even if not bright, the room was now illuminated enough to see everything—and Alexa was stunned. Her room was in complete disarray, as if ransacked by thieves.

Alexa shot Adrian a reproachful glare.

"Was it you who made this mess?"

Adrian frowned deeply.

"Why would I? If you'd had the money, I'd take it; if not, I'd take the Ocelton—that's all. Though that's moot now. Tsk."

"Then why is this place…?"

A foreboding feeling washed over her.

"Surely not."

Alexa ran to the dresser, pulled out the very last drawer completely, and turned it over. The fifty nets she'd hidden there had vanished without a trace.

She then rushed to the kitchen. The fifty nets inside the deep cup of the second cabinet were gone too, as were the fifty nets hidden under the wooden floor.

Alexa's hands went limp. Her dazed eyes held nothing. The full one hundred fifty nets she'd borrowed from Laura—all of it, gone.

"James. Ah… James McDonner!"

How—how could he not even last a week before gambling again?

Alexa felt like her head was about to explode.

How could he even think of touching this money? How could any human being do this? Knowing full well what would happen to her—to her—without it.

'And I had come back here with such a heavy heart!'

A betrayal that churned her stomach sent a sharp pain through her chest. The stabbing ache made her body curl involuntarily.

Sasha turned and left the room without watching further. No matter the circumstances, the debt wouldn't disappear. He simply saw no need to witness a noble young lady's pitiful collapse.

Behind Alexa, who gritted her teeth and endured the pain, Adrian approached alone.

"I thought you'd fled when I saw this wreck—leaving the mess behind. What a relief that the McDonner young lady came back."

"……"

Alexa scraped at the empty floor and clenched her fists.

Misery, fury, and betrayal swirled like a maelstrom.

No matter how hard she gasped, her head spun as if air couldn't reach her brain. A spoon lying on the floor, seemingly never used, reflected her own face.

She squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't bear to see this wreck of a house—or her own even worse reflection.

"What's wrong? You said you'd take responsibility—back at that tavern."

She had. That's why Alexa had worked herself to the bone, swallowed her pride, and borrowed money again.

Even in the midst of all this, she'd haggled over a tiny bottle of oil, offered to hand over every piece of furniture, and said he could take the Ocelton.

Wasn't that enough? Hadn't she fulfilled her responsibility? Wasn't everyone being too hard on her?

Overwhelmed by a surge of indignation, Alexa shot to her feet.

"I did take responsibility! I've spent my whole life taking responsibility and cleaning up after everyone! Just today alone, I've…!"

Whether from drink or fever, her whole body burned and her vision began to blur. She felt all strength drain from her limbs.

Suddenly, her knees gave way. A fleeting thought crossed her mind: I wish I could just smash my head against the corner and die right now.

But she didn't land on a hard, sharp floor edge—she fell into Adrian's firm, stable arms.

Alexa lay there with her eyes closed as if dead. Her ragged breath against his chest was quite hot.

Adrian held her awkwardly in his arms.

She was in worse condition than he'd thought. He was surprised by how light she felt, and even more surprised by how hot she was.

Not fully unconscious, she managed to lift her hazy eyes and look at him.

A cracked voice emerged from her parched lips.

"…I'll take responsibility. Take what you want—the things, the house, or sell me off… Do whatever you please. I just want it all to end."

How pathetic. Leaving those words behind, she closed her eyes.

Adrian hoisted her limp body and hurried to the lobby.

"Sasha!"

Sasha, who had been examining the lobby with curiosity, quickly approached upon seeing her collapsed.

"Take a look at her."

Carrying her, Adrian moved to the bedroom with Sasha. Stepping over the scattered drawers, he laid her on the bed. She had already lost consciousness, but low groans continued to escape her lips.

"Her energy is severely depleted."

Sasha muttered a spell softly. A faint golden magical energy extended from his hand and enveloped Alexa. The magic, as gentle as smoke, seeped into her chest and temples.

"Malnutrition, overwork, and extreme stress."

As he recited her condition, Sasha channeled another wave of magic. This time, it wrapped lightly around her entire body before vanishing in an instant.

"I've replenished her depleted energy for now. No specific treatment is needed."

Adrian nodded. The root cause of all these symptoms was poor diet, lack of sleep, overexertion, and the final blow—stress beyond her limits.

Now that she'd collapsed and was resting, with a little magical energy to restore her vitality, there should be no further danger.

As he said, Alexa's breathing gradually calmed, and her fever slowly subsided.

Only then did Adrian take a proper look at the wrecked room.

A room as cold as a freezer, a quilt with all its cotton worn flat, an overturned dresser, and an empty wardrobe with its doors wide open—his frown deepened.

'…Surely not.'

A single laundered maid's uniform and a small pair of socks that had been on the round table were now scattered on the floor. Two hair ties lay beside them. A worn glove, mid-repair with a needle still in it, hung precariously from the table.

Even if this were a young lady's room, it would be astonishing—but coming home after working as a maid, trading the barony's pride, to find this…

'She must have been playing nursemaid to a grown baron as well.'

He felt a bitter pang, but nothing more. As always, Sasha seemed to share his thoughts.

Annoyed by the complicated, tangled, and unfavorable circumstances deviating from his plan, Adrian swept his hair back in irritation.

"Sasha, is there anything in the house worth selling?"

"The furniture is decent, but far short of the borrowed sum."

"Can I really not take this Ocelton?"

Sasha looked at the Ocelton in his hand.

The deep black gem was mysterious—but it seemed to have already chosen its owner. Though it was hard to believe that its owner was such a frail woman.

Sasha shook his head.

"Yes. It appears the Ocelton has chosen this woman as the successor of the family."

"Successor? Not the baron?"

"Yes."

"Well, I wouldn't choose a son like that either."

Adrian's face contorted with even more irritation than before. But Sasha's next words upset him even further.

"You could take it if you wanted. But it would eventually find its way back to its owner—even if it means killing the possessor."

"What?"

Adrian stared down at the sleeping Alexa as if he'd been struck.

If you take it, you die. And she had offered it willingly—what kind of situation was that? Even someone who'd survived numerous assassination attempts had never encountered such a unique method.

Sasha, seeing Adrian's thoughts clearly, added:

"I don't know the reason, but it seems the late baron and his wife died too early to pass on knowledge of the gem. The Ocelton that chooses its owner is incredibly rare and mysterious—but it's also extremely possessive of its master."

"You expect me to believe you didn't know?"

"If her brother had known, he wouldn't live like this. He'd know it would eventually return to him—so he wouldn't have been so horrified at offering the Ocelton as collateral. If things went wrong, it would have killed off troublesome debtors and come back to him."

"……"

Adrian was dumbfounded.

It was clear he'd tried to acquire a fine item and ended up entangled in a troublesome affair.

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