Iris slowly mulled over the rumors about her that were spreading through the capital.
She hadn’t even had time to attend social gatherings properly, let alone speak much to anyone, yet her name had reached even the outermost merchant caravans.
“Everyone looked down on me.”
It was only natural that Oliver would likely do the same.
“Please… let Oliver Hansen…”
Be someone with less discernment than she gave him credit for.
“I’ve lost track of time.”
She had been so focused, so absorbed in her task, that she hadn’t noticed how late it had grown. She had wanted to finish early for her meeting with Cedric.
When she reached the entrance to the sleeping quarters, Iris knocked gently to signal her presence and stepped inside.
“You’ve arrived?”
Cedric, dressed in a casual indoor robe, sat by the window reading.
Vincent often worried aloud that Cedric spent too much time at ease, but Iris wasn’t quite sure she agreed.
“He may seem languid, but…”
Cedric had a true fondness for books.
The Leontheim library far outshone that of House Valentine, both in size and in variety.
“Who in the world gathered all these?”
“Why, our Lord himself, of course. The moment he sees a book, he simply cannot resist.”
Iris had been genuinely surprised when she first heard that.
Most nobles didn’t care for written words nearly as much as they claimed. They preferred hiring subordinates to do the thinking for them.
Cedric’s crimson eyes, lowered as he read, were calm and composed. His brow lifted slightly, as though pondering something, and his long lashes blinked softly.
His slender fingers brushed the page with a gentle
shff
, and Iris found herself mesmerized by the simple motion.
“…Did you not have something to say?”
If he hadn’t spoken first, she might have continued watching him in silence, admiring the scene as if it were a divine painting.
“Ah… Y-yes, you’re right.”
Her voice cracked in the middle, and she quickly cleared her throat to regain her composure.
“So then…”
Where should she even begin, to avoid sounding strange?
Her own innocence?
Or Oliver’s deception?
Perhaps she should explain first why she had summoned Aurora?
Iris made every effort not to seem…
unusual.
“Madam.”
But in truth, none of that was the point.
Cedric stepped closer and gently cupped her cheek with one hand.
“Just speak. There’s nothing to fear.”
His tone was light, tossed out as if it bore little weight.
Yet it wasn’t born of indifference—it was a simple certainty that whatever came, he would be there by her side. There was nothing in this world worth fearing.
“He’s right… There’s nothing to fear.”
Her deepest fears weren’t the kind that could be triggered by mere words.
Summoning her courage, Iris met Cedric’s gaze directly.
“Do you… trust me?”
A bold, direct strike.
He might think she was strange today. After all, she
had
been saying strange things since morning. Even she knew it.
So Iris had prepared herself for rejection, or at least a cold response.
She half-expected it.
Cedric looked straight into her trembling sky-blue eyes.
He gave a quiet hum, then answered, voice firm and sincere:
“Yes. I trust you.”
One short phrase, brimming with conviction.
“…How…”
Iris faltered, unable to finish her question.
“How can you be so sure?”
Not even her own family, who had watched her all her life, had believed in her.
“Because I know you’re not the kind of person who would do such things.”
His warmth wrapped around her hands as he held them gently in his.
And in the end, Iris asked the question she’d wanted to avoid:
“How can you be so certain? Everything about me could be a lie. I could be deceiving you…”
Cedric blinked, and then replied, somewhat puzzled,
“Do you really have to know someone for a long time to believe in them?”
He didn’t understand why she doubted. Why
shouldn’t
he trust her?
“If you look closely—even for a short while—you can just…
tell.
”
The crimson hue of his eyes held an unshakable faith.
Not even her family, nor Iris herself, could fully believe in who she was.
But Cedric—he believed in her without a moment’s hesitation.
How could he do that?
She wanted to live up to that faith.
She didn’t want to let him down.
“I have a request.”
Her voice was quiet, but steady.
“It’s about Oliver Hansen. About how he’s… a conman.”
Iris had no evidence yet.
“Please, I beg you—don’t ask me how I know.”
Iris’s face turned pale.
What if Cedric starts to see me differently?
Though he had always trusted her, an unshakable fear gnawed at her heart—the fear of losing the care and affection she had finally gained.
“Iris.”
Cedric gently called her name and took her hand firmly.
“I see. Then, what should I do? Should I lock him up in the dungeon?”
Yet once again, he asked nothing of her.
He simply trusted her words and prepared to act.
Unconditional trust. The warmth of it almost brought her to tears—she wanted to hide her face.
“No… Not yet. We don’t have a justifiable cause.”
Even if she used authority to imprison him, the Emperor’s faction would retaliate. He’d be released quickly.
Oliver Hansen, after all, was a man sent by the Emperor.
But I can detain him.
And if it’s him, he might be able to extract the needed information.
“Please lend me Vincent.”
“…You’re not asking for
me
, but for Vincent?”
“Yes. There’s something only he can do.”
Before her regression, Iris had seen Vincent’s face and later learned his backstory through a cultivation novel.
Since he’s close to Cedric, he must be a key player too.
Vincent had once been the hidden right-hand of Cedric’s birth father.
Before that, he had ruled the shadows—a grandmaster thief and artifact broker.
If it’s him, he can create what I need…
—to deceive Oliver.
“Iris.”
“Ah!”
At Cedric’s call, she looked up. He bumped his forehead gently against hers.
His brows drooped in mock disappointment—a gesture meant to shake her heart.
“Why him and not me?”
Iris, flustered, looked away slightly and gently shook her head, mindful not to hurt him as their foreheads touched.
“It’s not because I don’t trust you, Cedric.”
Once again, Iris had completely misread his mood. She whispered into his ear.
Cedric still looked unconvinced, but he had no choice but to agree.
“If it’s
that
, then yes… I wouldn’t be of help.”
He sighed and wrapped her in his arms.
“Then I wish you good fortune. If it comes to it, I’ll step in myself.”
“Thank you. It’ll be fine. I’m sure of it.”
If everything went as planned, there’d be no problem.
“Oh, right. I think I can also create a substitute for the Snow Chain.”
“A substitute? In addition to capturing Oliver?”
Cedric widened his eyes. Iris gave a modest nod.
“Yes. It may not work, but it could help resolve the Northern issue.”
Bit by bit, her confidence waned from her voice.
What if I fail after saying this…?
Cedric, deep in thought for a moment, nodded.
“I understand. But even if it doesn’t work, don’t worry too much. You’ve done more than enough already.”
Whenever she looked at Cedric, Iris couldn’t help but feel as if she were someone exceptional.
I wish I’d talked to him more before the regression.
Thinking of his death tore at her heart. The more he believed in her, the stronger her desire grew—to protect him.
I will protect you… even if it costs me my life.
Iris gave a small, foolish smile.
“…Thank you for trusting me.”
Cedric, looking down at her, embraced her again. His gestures were no different than usual, so Iris assumed his mood had eased.
I should learn from Vincent.
But Cedric’s dark-haired head was full of only one thought—monopolizing her.
Meanwhile, Oliver had nearly completed the preparation of the magic-engraved contract.
I’m fortunate I managed to acquire this.
Contracts bound by unbreakable cultivation seals were extremely rare.
Not only did they require an arduous approval process, but the cost was astronomical.
Just buying a few of these would bankrupt any merchant house.
Still, the effect was well worth the cost.
Once this is signed, it’ll be impossible to nullify.
Even if later Leonteim discovered the deception, the contract would remain binding.
These magical contracts couldn’t be burned or destroyed—thus, completely unbreakable.
The only issue…
It had to be signed directly by the true master of Leonteim.
And the Grand Duke of Leonteim isn’t one to be taken lightly.
Even if it was by the Emperor’s command, one misstep could mean death.
Nervously, Oliver set off with the contract in hand.
But the obstacle he feared unexpectedly resolved itself.
“Vincent was busy, so I’ve come in his stead.”
It was the Duchess Consort who came to handle the contract—instead of the Grand Duke himself. The Grand Consort, her hair a soft lavender hue, was indeed every bit as breathtaking as the rumors that had swept through all of Leontheim claimed.
“It is an honor to meet you again, My Lady.”
To Oliver, she was an easy opponent.
‘Everything is going smoothly.’
He was already well aware of the Valentine Clan’s second daughter—the one with no presence.
A dullard born into a clan famed for producing swordsmanship prodigies.
It was a well-known tale that the Clan Head of Valentine had kept her away from the social realm, ashamed that she, alone, possessed no talent to speak of.
‘There’s no way she’ll be able to understand such a difficult soul-binding contract.’
Magic-sealed contracts were etched in dense, arcane law—a complex array of cultivation scripts and spiritual bindings that even seasoned cultivators found troublesome.
There was no way a noble lady raised in silk and sheltered halls could parse its depth.
And indeed, the Grand Consort looked just as innocent and naive as her beauty suggested.
She examined the soul-sealing contract with a face full of wonder.
“So this is that famed magic-inscribed contract.”
“Is this your first time laying eyes on one?”
“I’ve never seen one this close before. I suppose… it’s quite important.”
“Haha, is that so.”
The more Iris appeared fascinated by the contract, the more elated Oliver became.
“You need only sign here.”
He carefully handed over the special ink, reserved solely for imprinting magic seals.
The ink shimmered like aurora light blooming beneath a midnight sky. Iris, captivated, stared at the liquid before offering a gentle smile.
“So I just sign right here?”
“Yes. With your signature, I can engrave the spiritual imprint and complete the contract’s binding ritual.”
Oliver pressed her gently with a benevolent smile.
“Then, if you would, affix the official seal of Leontheim.”
Iris looked at Oliver for a moment, then said in a slightly bashful tone,
“I feel a little uneasy, taking on such a weighty matter here in the Grand Duke’s domain.”
“You are making the righteous choice. Many in the North will be saved because of it.”
“Then I shall sign it now.”
Iris slowly reached for the ink jar.
‘Why is she so slow?’
Oliver swallowed dryly as he watched, the seconds dragging like centuries.
The feathered quill in Iris’s hand dipped gracefully into the ink.
Oliver’s gaze locked onto the quill’s tip, watching as the iridescent ink clung to it like starlight to a blade.
‘Now. Finally… now!’
Just as the quill was about to touch the surface of the soul-seal contract—
“Ah!”
Iris’s pale arm bumped into the nearby ink jar.
The entire container tipped, and the shimmering ink poured out in an instant, flooding across the sacred soul-bound parchment and ruining the intricate spiritual markings in a heartbeat.