Chapter 8

Even now, the handsome man who had been causing a stir among the maids turned out to be Ian, who had surprisingly cut his hair and shaved his beard.

Since the day of the drill, Ian's name came up more often at work.

Among them, Emma was particularly enthusiastic, going so far as to declare that she would be the one to date Ian and warned others not to make a move.

Their sudden change in attitude, who had never treated Ian as a potential romantic interest before, made me feel uneasy.

Ian is now twenty-nine years old.

He is in the prime of his marriageable age, a second son from a ducal family, and an elite deputy commander of the Blue Star Knights. For daughters of middle or lower nobility, or for high-ranking nobles seeking a son-in-law, he is an ideal marriage prospect.

Women who had previously stayed away from Ian due to his peculiar appearance are now boldly coming forward as potential fiancées.

I've heard that the pile of marriage proposals at Ian's family home is mountainous, and the training grounds of the knights are always filled with young ladies with opera glasses, trying to catch a glimpse of him. I don't know how much of this is true, but each rumor made me feel gloomy.

Not that I ever thought I would end up dating him.

If I had such intentions, I would have confessed long ago.

But I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I have dedicated myself to my work to avoid disgracing Ian, who saved me, and that dedication has brought me to where I am today.

Now that I have more leeway in my work, I am well past my prime.

In noble marriages, where having children is a must, what is sought in women is health and youth.

Of course, good looks might be important, but the ability to be a mother is considered more crucial in marriage.

Indeed, the younger colleagues who are frolicking in front of me make me feel a deep sense of loss.

But such feelings are nothing more than trivial sentimentality.

What is important to me is serving the royal family with loyalty and, by extension, being of use to the queen.

With this renewed determination, I was suddenly ordered to stay behind by the queen.

"Sandra, please stay."

And I was left alone in the queen's chambers.

Wondering what was going on, I heard her say:

"Don't be so nervous. I'm not going to scold you. You are excellent, after all."

"Ha...?"

I was happy to be praised, but in this situation, I couldn't accept it with gratitude.

From her expression, I couldn't tell what the queen was thinking.

"Actually, there's a marriage proposal for you."

"A marriage proposal? For me?"

I couldn't help but ask.

I don't think it's unreasonable.

When I was younger, I occasionally received marriage proposals through my family, but at my age, they have almost disappeared.

"Yes, that's right. The other party has approached me to mediate."

To use the queen as a go-between, what kind of person must this be?

That was my first thought.

After all, the other party is the queen of the country, the second most prestigious person in the land. Even nobles bow before her.

So, only a select few can do such a thing.

This queen is known for her charitable work, but she is not a meek and mild person who can be easily manipulated.

If someone proposes to her without knowing them well, she can easily reject them as impolite.

I hesitated with my words and involuntarily shrugged.

At the point where the queen has proposed it, I have no right to refuse.

If marrying someone can be of service to the queen, I would gladly do so.

My confusion stems from the fact that I have no idea who would say such a thing.

If someone wants to connect with the queen through me, they should propose to a younger and cuter maid.

"Um, who exactly...?"

"It's the eldest son of the Rosmer Marquess."

At those words, I felt as if I had stopped breathing.

Because that family name belonged to the lecherous noble who had called me a brooch thief ten years ago.