Chapter 86

# 86

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Nabia gazed intently into her own eyes, then shook her head to dispel the lingering thoughts.

"This isn't the time."

A short sigh escaped her lips as the door clicked open.

Nabia stepped out into the corridor alone, feeling a strange sensation. The heir's room, lavishly decorated in gold, made her feel peculiar.

'Was it this dark here?'

She hadn't noticed the surroundings when she had come out with others earlier.

But now, she could clearly feel that the third floor was darker and more desolate than the second floor.

The third floor had empty spots where candlesticks should be, and most of the windows were covered with black tapestries.

The Duke's residence was usually a quiet place, but the third floor was especially serene.

Even the first floor, which received the most sunlight, exuded an overwhelming atmosphere, but the third floor was so oppressive that a weak person might not be able to take a single step.

Nabia, however, only felt that it was quite dim and gloomy as she took a step forward, then suddenly felt perplexed.

'Now that I think about it, I don't know where the Duke's room is.'

Why did she only realize this now?

"Stupid."

Nabia smacked her forehead, unable to believe her own carelessness.

'Should I knock on each door one by one...? Or should I go down to the lower floor and ask?'

Clang!

At that moment, a sound caught Nabia's attention.

Clearly, a faint but sharp sound came from the opposite direction.

'So, the Duke's bedroom is right across from mine...?'

Nabia approached the door quietly without making a sound.

The sweet courage given by Cake had slightly waned, but after taking a deep breath, she clenched her fist and raised her hand.

Just as she was about to knock, the door was roughly pulled open.

A cold, sharp scent enveloped Nabia.

She had become accustomed to this smell.

It was Lark's scent.

'It's different from the smell of anesthetic.'

What kind of fragrance was this?

'It doesn't seem to be perfume.'

Lark was rubbing his temples with his large hand, covering his eyes.

He spoke irritably.

"What are you doing standing there and not coming in...?"

He stopped mid-sentence, puzzled when he saw no one through the gaps between his fingers.

'What? I could have sworn I sensed someone.'

Then, his gaze fell downward. In the pitch-black corridor, a white figure stood out like a silver flame, intensely piercing his eyes.

Lark was speechless at the unexpected visitor.

Nabia, tense from the encounter, quickly relaxed her posture and bowed.

"Hello, Duke."

She was worried that she might look like a child trying to impress him.

But Lark wasn't paying attention to etiquette.

He had been in a sharp and irritable state due to his body feeling as if it were breaking apart since yesterday.

He had just been about to throw a vial in a fit of anger when someone who annoyed him appeared.

Nabia spoke politely to avoid upsetting him.

"I came to speak with you, Duke. I didn't want to disturb you, so I apologize. I might be a nuisance, but... "

The more Nabia spoke, the more Lark's expression soured, and he finally couldn't hold back when she mentioned being a nuisance.

"Why do you say that?"

"Me?"

Nabia's eyes widened in surprise as Lark spoke bluntly without realizing it.

"I hate long excuses."

"Ah... I'm sorry..."

Nabia apologized awkwardly.

'So, he must have seen me as a calculating child.'

But she didn't know how to act any other way.

Although Nabia was born a commoner, she had received rigorous training to appear more noble than anyone else throughout her life.

Thus, her refined and elegant demeanor came as naturally as breathing.

Most of the nobles she had met were descendants of prestigious families, and while they might do despicable things behind closed doors, they generally acted with good manners.

The most vulgar person Nabia knew was Wood, but she couldn't act like him.

In fact, Nabia didn't even know who she truly was. After being trained to act nobly, she had forgotten her original self.

Her well-trained appearance felt like her true self.

So, she was worried that even her current attempt to act naturally was just an act.

Lark cursed inwardly at Nabia's slightly dejected expression.

'Damn. I didn't mean to say that.'

He frowned deeply, then stepped aside and said,

"Come in."

Nabia was relieved to see that he was willing to engage in conversation.

'Is this the head of the family's room? It's certainly large... but...'

She had been told that her room was the heir's room.

Given how dazzlingly gold and luxurious it was, she had assumed the head of the family's room would be even more magnificent.

But it wasn't.

Lark's room was so desolate that it couldn't be considered a place for the head of the family.

The most fitting description was that it was bleak.

A black bed, a black table, and a black sofa. That was all there was inside.

On the table were vials of medicine, and empty vials with their caps off were scattered around the room.

It was a scene of desolation and melancholy.

Lark approached the only table in the room and suddenly swept it with his hand.

Clatter!

The vials on the table tumbled to the floor with a single swipe of Lark's hand.

Lark was actually flustered.

On the table were three letters he had crumpled, now neatly spread out, with a pearl hairpin on top.

He had swept the table in a hurry to prevent the child from seeing them.

'Damn, I should have burned them all!'

In fact, he could have just moved them with his magic.

Lark realized this belatedly and stared blankly at his foolish action and its consequences before turning his gaze away.

He tried to explain his actions.

"I just cleaned up the mess."

Nabia maintained a neutral expression but looked at Lark in shock.

Indeed, his method of tidying the table completely shattered her common sense.

"Ah, I see... Thank you..."

Despite the commotion caused by the hairpin, Lark, thinking he had prepared to receive a guest, summoned a chair and gestured to it.

"Sit down."

He then casually propped his long legs on the table, displaying a completely rude and arrogant attitude.

His action of sweeping the table seemed relatively gentlemanly in comparison.

Nabia had dealt with people like this before, though they were usually thugs or street ruffians.

Of course, Lark was a bit different from them.

'If I had to describe it... he gives off a tyrant-like vibe.'

Lark's actions seemed arrogant, as if he held the world beneath his feet.

He was very authoritative but lacked dignity, yet he wasn't vulgar.

He appeared noble in his very existence, which was quite a marvel to Nabia.

Nabia sat down opposite him, as he had invited her.

The scene of the elegant girl and the arrogant Duke sitting across the table was quite unusual.

Before getting to the main topic, Nabia made a proper greeting.

"First, I want to thank you for giving me such a wonderful room, which is more than I deserve."

However, Lark quickly showed a bored expression.

"I didn't ask to hear that. Get to the point. What do you want to say?"

Nabia, who had already assumed Lark to be a tyrant or a street ruffian, was completely unaffected by his shockingly rude words.

"Then, I'll get straight to the point. I want to use the name of Esselred to start a business."

Lark blurted out,

"Travel bags?"

"What? How did you know...?"

Nabia was surprised that Lark knew about the travel bag business, even though she hadn't mentioned it.

Lark almost clicked his tongue but managed to hold back.

He couldn't tell her that he had been watching her yesterday while hiding his appearance.