Chapter 15

 

“What’s there to hope for?” Kallain replied flatly.

“Pardon…?”

“She’s already signed the contract.”

That alone was enough to imply that not even the Emperor would be handed the Purifier—no matter how much he demanded it.

Not shared, not given—kept.

Jayden rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. “Surely… Your Grace wouldn’t refuse to share her, would you?”

Kallain lifted his sharp gaze, locking eyes with him in silence.

Jayden, reading the answer in that silence, thumped his chest with a sigh.

“Please, Your Grace. Spare an old man’s nerves.”

“I always spare your nerves, Jayden.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Your Grace!”

“Do I still look like the little boy you used to raise?”

“Yes. In my eyes, you’ll always be that boy. I must’ve committed some great sin in a past life.”

“Then as penance, look into why that woman came here.”

There was the faintest smile on Kallain’s face. When he was like this, Jayden could only ever lose.

It was the natural order—parents losing to their children.

And while they didn’t share blood, to Jayden, Kallain would always be the little imperial prince he once held in his arms.

So, there was only one answer left for him to give.

“…Understood.”

As Jayden bowed his head, Kallain calmly observed him, then turned back to the documents.

‘No harm in confirming it for sure.’

As Jayden had said before, the woman was an outsider, with no clear background.

They needed to know—was she a spy sent from somewhere, or just a cunning woman trying to take advantage of him?

“And another thing,” Kallain added.

“Yes, Your Grace?”

His eyes paused over a blank section of the document.

“Why is the birthplace field empty?”

Even if she’d lived on the streets, everyone had a past.

But hers… was a pure white void.

“She was found in a state of memory loss,” Jayden said.
“They thought it was short-term amnesia, but she never regained any memory of her name or where she came from. Even her age was estimated by the Langston couple.”

‘Chased and hunted, and on top of that, she lost her memory?’

“The Empire never received any claims or inquiries?” Kallain asked.

“None. Not so far.”

Should he be grateful that no pursuers ever caught her?
Or mourn the fact that no family ever came searching?

Maybe the memory loss was a blessing in disguise.

Jayden, his expression dark, mirrored the same thought.

“She doesn’t seem to have lived a peaceful life.”

“…It seems not.”

The way Kallain answered, so calm and detached, made it seem as if he had no personal connection to the woman at all.

To Jayden, the Duke’s behavior was impossible to pin down.

He had shown clear signs of deep interest in Sylvia—yet now, he looked entirely indifferent.

“Shall I look into it, then?” Jayden offered.

“…”

Kallain furrowed his brow slightly, hesitating for a beat before replying slowly.

“No… there’s no need for that.”

Jayden glanced at him, mildly surprised.

‘Is he interested or not? Or… has he already lost interest?’

But before Jayden’s thoughts could go any deeper, Kallain suddenly issued an entirely different kind of order—one that contradicted his earlier detachment.

“Cut all trade between Langston and the Grand Duchy. Everything.”

The northern province, due to its harsh climate, relied heavily on imports.
Thanks to Kallain opening up new supply routes, the days of starvation had ended.

As the population grew, most merchant families sought to do business with the Duchy.

Langston was one such house.

So when Jayden had prepared trade reports for the morning council, having “Langston” written on the chart had simply been routine.

Unfortunately for Langston, that had turned out to be a stroke of terrible luck.

“The trade with Langston… is it because of her, by any chance?”

A crooked smile played on Kallain’s lips as he met Jayden’s gaze.

“Of course not.”

“How could we allow filth like that, soiled with such disgraceful hands, to enter the Grand Duchy?”

‘But it’s clearly for Sylvia’s sake… isn’t it?’

Jayden was curious—more than ever—about his lord’s true feelings, but chose not to press any further.

In the end, cutting off Langston wouldn’t harm the northern territory in the slightest.

There were countless other families eager to trade with the Grand Duchy, whose reputation was growing stronger by the day.
They would gladly fill the gap.

Still, the Langston house did have slight ties to the Emperor’s interests.
Jayden worried word might eventually reach imperial ears.

But really—how could one live, constantly fearing such things?
And as the Duke had said, those people were filth. That much was true.

The more Jayden learned about Sylvia’s life, the more deeply he believed it.

With a respectful bow, Count Jayden quietly excused himself and left the study.

* * *

Left alone in the room, Kallain flipped through the documents as if nothing had happened.

But once again, his eyes were drawn to the woman’s application, her clean handwriting standing out on the page.

A beautiful woman with no memory.

An excessively alluring combination.

Even her steps carried grace. Her bearing had the look of nobility.
Her speech—elegant in a way distinctly aristocratic.

‘Could she be a princess from some fallen kingdom?’

That idea, of course, was just a flimsy fantasy—conveniently invented to explain her memory loss.

‘A queen might suit her even better.’

In some distant lands, they married off queens from a young age. It wasn’t so far-fetched.

But no—he decided to erase that thought.

The idea of her having a husband… left a bad taste in his mouth.

‘A hidden imperial princess, then?’

That could fit too.

But he immediately discarded that theory as well.
Even if she were his half-sister… the fact that he’d entertained that kind of thought was revolting.

And now that he thought about it, the whole thing was ridiculous.

He’d imagined her only as a queen, a princess, a noblewoman—always something royal.
All for a woman who, in reality, was just a commoner.

And yet… anyone who laid eyes on her would probably think the same.

She simply looked the part—like she was born for such a role.

That poised stare that never faltered, the proud, upright walk, the voice that commanded attention—
All of it gave her the air of someone nobly born.

The more he pictured it, the more she seemed like a princess hidden away somewhere far from the world.
The kind with loving parents still searching for her.

Certainly not someone who belonged to some filthy house like the Langstons.

No, somewhere far more noble, far more dignified—that was where she should have come from.

Of course, it was all just a story—nothing but a poorly written fantasy he’d crafted on his own.

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder: What memories had she lost?

He wasn’t exactly dying to know. But he wasn’t not curious either.

It felt like a Pandora’s box.

If keeping it closed preserved the peace, was there really any need to pry it open?

Getting to know her was both fascinating and frustrating.

Unnecessary, tangled effort. Not something he needed to stir up for no reason.

Especially between an employer and a hired hand—this distance was perfect.

And even when he found himself wanting to know her down to her very bones,
some inner instinct warned him not to.

He still had enough sense left in him to heed that instinct.

And that, at least, was a relief.

Well, really—what could be more ridiculous than trying to recover memories that even the person herself had chosen to erase?

Kallain closed the file and rose from his seat.

Out in the distance, the crimson hue spread across the land, blending into the edge of the training yard. And beyond that… he saw the woman’s back.

He thought he might’ve been mistaken, but even after another glance, it was unmistakably her.

It was impossible not to recognize her.

Among a group of hulking men clad in black, that delicate silhouette stood out starkly.

And now, the men were gathering around her.

Some had even tossed aside their practice swords and were running over, crowding near like moths to a flame. It was almost laughable.

One by one they came, chatting with her like it was the most amusing thing they’d heard all week—and then came the laughter.

The woman laughed with them too.

That bright, pure smile—the one he thought he alone had seen—was blooming right there, out in the open.

The sight struck an oddly unpleasant chord. A tightening sensation crept up the back of his neck.

One by one, the names of his most promising trainees floated back into his mind.

Kallain tugged the bellpull.

Jayden entered promptly.

“I’m heading to the training yard. Prepare my gear.”

“…The trainees will be quite distressed, Your Grace. Is it necessary?”

“If they’re distressed, it means their training is insufficient.”

Jayden sighed, shaking his head, already envisioning what was to come.

He remembered all too well what happened whenever his lord set foot in the training yard.

Even knights with hardened, muscular bodies—sculpted through rigorous drills—would crumble helplessly under Kallain’s gaze.

The moment blades met, it was like iron against paper. The outcome was always swift and humiliating.

He’d down them all without breaking a sweat. While others wheezed and collapsed, Kallain never so much as lost his breath.

They called him a monster for a reason.

And as punishment, those defeated by him had to run countless laps around the training ground.

In short, the day Kallain visited the yard was nothing short of a nightmare for the knights.

Jayden could hardly imagine how many bodies would be hitting the dirt today.

But what could he do?

This was his lord’s will.