108. The Owner of the Scent

Klaus’s sudden appearance made Grand Duke Rubelio freeze for a moment before his lips curled into a relaxed smirk.

“I heard you were in Raphelios, but I didn’t expect to run into you so soon.”

With that, Rubelio extended his hand toward Klaus in a leisurely manner.

“It’s good to see you in a foreign land, Duke Valtazar.”

Klaus, however, ignored the offered handshake, his sharp gaze locked onto the grand duke.

Unfazed, Rubelio withdrew his hand with an amused chuckle.

“As you must know, I am here as the representative of the Rugbeljet delegation for the imperial ceremony. I merely greeted Viscount Bernas because I was pleased to see her after such a long time. There’s no need for misunderstandings…”

His words were lighthearted, but his eyes carried a veiled sharpness as he cast a sidelong glance at Roselia.

The way his eyes narrowed in a leisurely manner sent an eerie chill down Roselia’s spine, making her body tense involuntarily.

Sensing this, Klaus subtly spread his arms, blocking Rubelio’s line of sight.

With a slow smile, Rubelio stepped past them without protest, continuing down the hall.

As Roselia exhaled in silent relief, convinced that he had left, Rubelio’s voice suddenly echoed behind them.

“Personally, I believe this Crown Prince’s enthronement ceremony will be quite a spectacle. I’m looking forward to it.”

He glanced back at them with a pointed smirk.

“See you at the ceremony.”

With that, he walked away, leaving Roselia with an ominous weight in her chest.

She stared at his retreating figure until he disappeared from sight.

Klaus, who had been standing before her like an immovable shield, turned his intense gaze down at her.

“What did he say to you?”

Roselia stiffened at the memory of Rubelio’s whispered taunt—the way he had spoken of her bloodline.

But she forced herself to remain composed.

There was nothing to gain from involving Klaus in this. If anything, provoking the grand duke would only put both of them in greater danger.

“It was nothing important.”

Her curt response made Klaus frown.

Then, closing the distance between them in a single step, Klaus loomed over her, his piercing gaze locked onto hers.

“From now on, anything involving Rubelio—you tell me.”

His voice carried the weight of an order.

Roselia, unimpressed, narrowed her eyes.

“I think you still mistake me for one of your subordinates, Your Grace. Whatever I discuss with the grand duke is none of your concern.”

Klaus’s expression darkened further.

A dangerous gleam flickered in his deep navy-blue eyes.

For a moment, he held back whatever he wanted to say, as if restraining himself. Then, without warning, he leaned down, his breath grazing her shoulder as he growled,

“He’s targeting you, Roselia. Not me. You.”

There was frustration in his voice. And a rage barely contained.

But Roselia merely averted her eyes and responded indifferently,

“Even so, it’s not something you need to concern yourself with.”

The more she got involved with him, the worse the situation would become.

That was how the original story was supposed to unfold.

She swallowed the words lingering on her tongue and stepped out of his grasp.

Even as she turned away, she could feel his relentless gaze burning into her back.

But Klaus did not chase after her. He did not stop her.

Only when she passed through the entrance of the Empress’s palace, out of his sight, did Roselia finally release a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She leaned against the wall, pressing a hand to her chest.

Every time she encountered him, she had to suppress the scent that flared up within her—something instinctual, uncontrollable.

It was simply because her body had been marked by him.

That was all.

Her heart had long since abandoned any attachment to him.

At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

Forcing her expression to remain neutral, Roselia straightened and continued walking.

* * *

Johannes was already waiting for her when Roselia arrived at the audience chamber.

“You’re here,” he greeted.

He had arrived earlier than her, having been occupied with other imperial matters.

Across from him sat Marquis Bellog, his expression filled with disbelief—almost as if he couldn’t comprehend that he was about to meet the powerful Marquess of Euciliod so easily.

And soon, he would even be meeting the Empress of Raphelios.

Roselia smiled warmly at the marquis, noting his dazed expression.

“You arrived early.”

“Y-Yes…”

Unlike the uncertain attitude he had shown at the hotel banquet, Marquis Bellog now looked at Roselia with a mix of admiration and trust.

And the fact that he was even using honorifics for her showed how deeply impressed he was by the situation.

“The Empress wished to meet you today regarding the Bellog Merchant Guild,” Roselia explained smoothly. “As you already know, this is Marquess Euciliod.”

Though both were of marquess rank, the power gap between a marquess of the Raphelios Empire and one from a small frontier kingdom was significant.

“I’ve heard much about you from Viscount Bernas. It’s a pleasure, Marquis Bellog,” Johannes said, extending a hand.

Bellog, clearly overwhelmed, quickly shook it with both hands and bowed his head respectfully.

“No, the pleasure is all mine.”

Just then, the doors to the chamber swung open, and Empress Delcia entered the room.

Johannes and Roselia instinctively bowed their heads in greeting, while Bellog, caught off guard, hurriedly followed suit with an awkward bow.

Noting his flustered state, the Empress smiled.

“You all arrived early. Raise your heads.”

Roselia did as instructed, but as soon as her gaze lifted, her expression stiffened.

Standing confidently behind the Empress was Klaus.

As everyone’s eyes turned toward him, the Empress continued with a cheerful tone.

“Marquis Bellog, you may not be familiar with him. This is Duke Valtazar, who will be assisting with the development of the trade routes for this project.”

At the introduction, Bellog’s expression turned into one of sheer awe, his eyes practically sparkling.

“Now that the key players are all gathered, shall we take our seats and begin?”

Roselia deliberately ignored Klaus’s lingering gaze as she sat down.

But even then, his eyes never left her.

“I was going to suggest we go together since we were headed in the same direction,” Klaus remarked smoothly, “but you left so coldly.”

Roselia merely averted her gaze without responding.

Watching the exchange, Bellog turned to Roselia in amazement and whispered,

“My goodness… Not only do you have connections with Marquess Euciliod and Her Majesty, but even the great Duke Valtazar? Your network is truly remarkable, Viscount.”

His voice was filled with admiration, oblivious to the tension in the room.

Roselia could only offer an awkward smile in response.

* * *

Roselia listened to Bellog’s endless chatter, his excitement barely contained, as she gazed out of the carriage window.

The carriage had already entered the outskirts of Pelton Port—the largest and most vital harbor of the Raphelios Empire.

Pelton Port was not only the heart of trade but also a key territory under the jurisdiction of the Marquess of Euciliod. It was soon to become the central hub connecting the merchant guilds of Mule and Benuve.

Even with the ambitious Fjord Mountain Tunnel Project, which would link the Kingdom of Mule to the Vaspeltion Empire, Pelton Port remained the most crucial waypoint.

Today, Roselia was accompanying Marquis Bellog on a visit to inspect the port.

Several Benuve merchant guilds had recently arrived, making this a prime opportunity for Bellog to familiarize himself with them.

“I’ll admit, at first, I thought the young Viscount Bernas might have been exaggerating. But my goodness, the world truly is vast! Never in my lifetime did I expect to meet so many influential figures all in one day!”

Bellog continued to heap praises upon her, but Roselia responded with only half-hearted remarks as the carriage entered the bustling heart of the port.

As soon as they arrived at their destination, she seized the opportunity to cut his rambling short.

“We’ve arrived at the port. Let’s disembark.”

“Oh…! We’re here already!”

Roselia stepped out first, waiting patiently as Bellog descended from the carriage with barely contained excitement.

Though he had stayed at Valtazar Hotel and likely observed the port in passing, today was different—today, he would be meeting with the heads of various merchant guilds in person.

With time to spare before the official meeting, they decided to explore the bustling market streets, lined with Benuve traders and exotic goods.

The area was packed with people—merchants shouting to advertise their wares, customers eagerly haggling, and laborers rushing to transport cargo.

Among the crowd, Roselia spotted several merchant leaders from Benuve who had gathered in anticipation of their meeting.

And standing among them, with an air of smug arrogance, was a tall man with sharp features.

Prince Asif.

When their eyes met, Asif grinned lazily and waved before striding toward them.

“Now, that’s just cold. Meeting with the Benuve merchants and not even giving me a heads-up?”

His voice was filled with exaggerated disappointment, but the amused glint in his golden eyes betrayed his usual insincerity.

Bellog, unaware of who Asif was, tilted his head in confusion.

“Is this gentleman also a merchant from Benuve?”

Roselia sighed, finding the situation increasingly bothersome, before responding.

“This is Prince Asif Rahart Kal Benuve, seventh prince of the Kingdom of Benuve.”

Bellog’s jaw dropped.

“The Prince Asif? The very same prince visiting for the Crown Prince’s enthronement ceremony?”

At Bellog’s stunned reaction, Asif smirked, his eyes gleaming with intrigue.

“You know quite a bit about me.”

He rubbed his chin as if analyzing Bellog, his expression like that of a cat eyeing a curious little mouse.

Meanwhile, Bellog, now fully realizing the gravity of the moment, hastily extended a hand toward Asif with an eager grin.

“It is an honor to meet you! I am Helion von Bellog, here to negotiate trade between Benuve and Mule alongside Viscount Bernas. I have a deep admiration for Benuve’s artistic heritage.”

“You have good taste,” Asif remarked, shaking Bellog’s hand.

Bellog beamed.

“I recently received a Benuve painting as a gift, and I was truly moved! Benuve’s unique artistic culture must be shared with the entire continent!”

Ah… So he’s talking about ‘Mother.’

Roselia immediately realized that Bellog was referring to the famous Benuve painting she had given him.

How ironic… The painting had been gifted to her by Asif—and now, Bellog was proudly gushing about it to the very man who had given it to her in the first place.

If Asif found out, he might start questioning why she had passed on his gift to someone else.

Deciding it was best to remain silent, Roselia bit her tongue.

Asif and Bellog continued discussing Benuve’s artistic significance, while Roselia turned her attention elsewhere, scanning the lively crowd.

The streets were filled with merchants, traders, and customers moving in every direction.

And then—

Through the sea of bustling figures, she caught a glimpse of a familiar woman.

A woman she had once saved from trouble near the port’s alleyways, alongside Eva.

The woman was clutching a bundle of dried jerky wrapped in cloth—likely a cheap purchase from one of the Benuve stalls.

Her posture was hunched, her head lowered as if trying to make herself as small as possible, moving discreetly through the crowd.

Roselia’s heart grew heavy.

Her gaunt face and frail frame reminded Roselia of Nadia.

Just as the woman was about to pass by unnoticed, Bellog’s voice suddenly pulled Roselia out of her thoughts.

“Hm? What is that scent? It’s suddenly gotten… incredibly pleasant.”

At his comment, Asif also twitched his nose.

“Yeah… I know this scent from somewhere…”

Asif’s gaze suddenly shifted to Roselia.

“Could it be…?”

At his words, a realization struck Roselia like lightning.

The last time I saved that woman in the alley… Asif had mentioned a scent.

At the time, she assumed it was her own scent—but she had been actively suppressing her scent back then.

And even now, she was suppressing it.

Which meant—

Her eyes widened as she spun around, desperately searching for the woman who had disappeared into the crowd.

 

 

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