*She's ruined.*
That single word already contained everything she didn't need to say aloud: she had no chance of meeting "that perfect man."
"Don't call me 'Little Duke.' Just use my first name." Zeromian's expression softened unexpectedly. "And... I apologize."
He had understood immediately. And now, for some reason, he looked guilty—as though *he* had been the one to make a mistake.
Marin waved her free hand dismissively, signaling she was fine.
Zeromian stared at that hand for a moment—then his gaze sharpened, and he turned his fire back to the Duke.
"An engagement—and *without* an engagement ring?"
The Duke's icy composure, which had remained unshakable throughout the entire conversation, cracked for the first time.
Marin smiled awkwardly and tucked her bare hand behind her back.
"Did you ask Lady Marin's mother for permission?"
The crack widened. Now the Duke looked genuinely at a loss.
Zeromian read the answer on his face and snorted.
"You see? What kind of engagement is this with someone who doesn't even know the proper procedures?"
"I received permission."
Marin, meanwhile, studied the Duke with open curiosity. His reaction struck her as... strange.
Zeromian crossed his arms and clicked his tongue.
"Tsk-tsk. Instead of getting engaged to such an *insensitive* man, why not become my apprentice instead?"
"What?"
"I'll give you everything you need."
"Kay."
At the Duke's call, Kay materialized from the shadows and dropped to one knee before him.
"Yes."
"Throw this one out."
Kay nodded slightly and moved toward Zeromian.
"Kay!" Zeromian's voice rose in exasperation. "I *told* you not to appear like that and frighten everyone!"
"It's part of my duties," Kay answered evenly, entirely unbothered.
"Since when is *scaring people* a profession?"
"I meant that my profession is to carry out His Grace's orders." Kay's voice remained flat. "Come. I will escort you with respect."
"Translation: if I don't leave willingly, you'll drag me out by force—is that it?"
"..."
Kay's silence confirmed everything.
Zeromian tossed his silver hair back irritably.
"Don't touch me. I'll leave on my own."
Kay stepped back slightly, giving him room.
"My lady, we still have things to discuss—"
The moment Zeromian turned toward Marin, Kay smoothly positioned himself between them, blocking his view entirely.
"Let's go."
Zeromian threw back his silk robe with a dramatic flourish, turned on his heel, and strode out.
---
Silence settled over the office, as though a hurricane had just swept through.
The Duke paused. Then:
"...We'll buy the ring tomorrow."
He touched his temple—apparently the commotion Zeromian had caused had given him a headache.
*Oh yes. The ring.*
Even Marin hadn't thought of that.
*But still—the engagement isn't real.*
"It's alright," she said lightly. "The engagement is fake. Last time you bought me a pile of jewelry along with the dresses. I can wear one of those rings."
"No. The jeweler will come tomorrow."
"Yes. Understood."
*What he says, goes.*
"By the way."
"Yes?"
She glanced away from her still-captive wrist and looked up at the Duke.
"Since when did you become so close with that man?"
"That man?"
Marin tilted her head, genuinely confused.
"You mean Mr. Zeromian? Are we... close?"
"*We?*"
The Duke's furrowed brows made his displeasure unmistakable.
"Well..." Marin chose her words carefully. "When Mr. Zeromian was Mr. Zero, he often kept me company. In conversation."
"Kept you company?"
The Duke repeated her words—and his face turned cold as the north wind.
Marin's pale green eyes flickered nervously.
*Did I say the wrong thing?*
It almost seemed like the Duke was fixating on her words. *Almost.*
"Sometimes we would meet in the library when I was choosing books to read to Your Grace."
"Sometimes?" His voice sharpened. "How often?"
"Um... once or twice a week?"
Marin answered honestly.
"That often?"
"Is that... a lot?"
She looked at him with genuine confusion: *What's wrong with that?*
"You think it's *not* much?"
The Duke raised an eyebrow as though she had said something utterly absurd.
"Have I... done something wrong?"
"You're changing the subject."
Marin's mouth fell open in bewilderment at his sharp reproach.
*What is* wrong *with him today?*
"Perhaps you're right. It was often." She decided to simply confess in order to end this strange interrogation. "But... when will you let go of my hand?"
Only then did the Duke seem to realize he had been gripping her wrist the entire time. He released it awkwardly.
Marin immediately pulled her hand to her chest and rubbed her wrist.
*Well done, wrist. You survived.*
"Then... shall I read you the report?"
"Yes."
His tone remained dissatisfied, but Marin—still not understanding the cause—simply got to work.
---
## — The Next Day —
"Your Grace. Lady Marin. The jeweler has arrived."
Butler Sebas knocked on the drawing room door and announced the visitor.
"Let him in."
A thin man of about fifty entered—prominent lower lip, sharp eyes—and bowed with practiced elegance.
"It is an honor to meet Your Grace and your fiancée. Yoreri Hackers—the Empire's finest gemologist, master jeweler, and proprietor of the Hackers Jewelry House. At your service."
"It's been some time."
Yoreri's eyes sparkled with barely contained delight at being remembered.
"It is an honor for my entire family that Your Grace recalls us."
"Let's proceed."
"Yes, of course."
He clapped his hands, and his assistants entered carrying case after case.
"I've brought one hundred select engagement rings—all of the highest quality. I don't know if your fiancée is aware, but our house boasts three hundred years of tradition—"
"I would like to concentrate."
"Yes."
Yoreri clapped his mouth shut mid-sentence.
Marin looked at the rings laid out before her—dazzling, almost *blinding* in their brilliance—and felt a wave of timidity.
Before her family's ruin, she had grown up in a wealthy noble household. But she had never seen so many rings gathered in one place.
"Does anything catch your eye?"
At the Duke's question, Marin drew a steadying breath.
Until now, she had only discussed the engagement among those who knew the truth. But here, in front of strangers, she had to play the role of a woman in love.
*Alright. Here we go.*
She clenched her fists, raised them cutely to her face, and tilted her head.
"My *handsome* Duke—will you help me? There are so many, I simply can't decide."
Her sudden, saccharine appeal plunged the room into stunned silence.
Marin's pupils trembled.
By the door, Butler Sebas had turned away—his shoulders shaking suspiciously.
*Was that too much? Entirely too much? Completely overdone?*
Her cheeks flushed scarlet. She lowered her hands and fixed her gaze on the floor.
"Hm. My *dear*—I would gladly assist, but circumstances do not permit."
The Duke covered his mouth, barely suppressing his laughter.
Marin's earlobes turned bright red.
"Yoreri. Recommend a ring to match the color of my bride's eyes."
Yoreri, momentarily thrown off by the sugary display, recovered instantly.
*Money! Money is coming! Keep your head cool!*
"I'll select one immediately."