---
The tall man appeared slender at first glance, but upon closer inspection, his body possessed a robust muscularity.
His ears were adorned with numerous piercings, and rings and bracelets glinted on his fingers and wrists.
A large, dark tattoo was visible on his bare forearm.
Dressed in civilian clothes and draped in jewelry, he initially raised some doubts, but after a glimpse at the tattoo, all uncertainty vanished.
Eileen looked at the man with disbelief and cautiously called him by name.
"Sir Diego?"
The man, who was smoking a cigarette, glanced in her direction, and his eyes rounded in surprise.
"Whoa!"
He hastily threw the cigarette onto the ground and quickly crushed it out with his foot.
"What are you doing here, Lady Eileen?
And what is with those clothes?"
"So it really is you, Sir Diego..."
Diego was one of the Grand Duke’s knights, the one who had once bought her a toy rabbit as a gift.
"It is indeed.
My lady, you... were you brought here by force?"
Diego’s eyes bugged out, as if he were ready to draw a pistol from his coat at any moment.
Instead of answering, Eileen simply shifted her gaze to the sign above the shop where he had been standing.
It was an establishment that sold alcohol and "nightly services."
"..."
Silently raising her eyes to look at Diego, she saw him follow her gaze and then begin to jump in place.
With an expression of extreme indignation, he began making excuses to Eileen.
"It’s not me!
Really!
My lady, I’m here on official duty!"
"Here?.."
"No, damn it... damn it all, I’m in shock."
Unintentionally cursing, he slapped himself on the lips.
"Forgive me, my lady.
It slipped out."
"It’s alright..."
Diego clutched his head and groaned.
Then, in a subdued tone, he reached out his hand to her.
"I’ll escort you.
Let’s get to a crowded place first and then we can talk."
"But aren't you on duty?"
"What duty could be more important than you?"
He reached out again, but Eileen shook her head.
Before he could lead her away by force, she confessed honestly, "I...
I’m looking for my father.
Do you know where he is?"
Diego’s expression changed.
Being a hot-tempered man, he was poor at controlling his emotions.
The anger reflected on his face confirmed her suspicion.
"You know."
"Ha..."
Diego first let out a heavy sigh.
He waved his hand toward the end of the alley, and a man in tattered clothes immediately jumped out from the shadows.
"Pass word that the lady has arrived."
"Understood."
When the man disappeared into the establishment, Diego cautiously tugged at Eileen’s sleeve.
"Come inside.
If something happens to you on this cursed street, they’ll have my head."
He led her toward the very shop he had been standing by.
The place was intimidating, but Eileen knew that Diego wouldn't harm her, so she followed him.
Despite its provocative exterior, the interior of the establishment proved to be quite decent.
It resembled an ordinary tavern with an attached inn.
There weren't many customers—only a few tables were occupied, seemingly by the Grand Duke’s soldiers.
Seeing Diego, they snapped to attention and saluted.
"At ease, sit down."
Waving his hand dismissively, Diego pulled out a chair and seated Eileen.
"Would you like some hot chocolate?
Or warm milk with honey?"
"Beer, please."
"B-beer?!"
Diego practically leaped at her words.
Murmuring something under his breath, he moved away.
"The lady is all grown up... drinking beer..."
However, he soon returned with a large mug of beer and some fruit.
Eileen nervously took a sip of the drink and then, draining half the mug in a single gulp, spoke again.
"You know where he is.
Why won’t you tell me?"
But no answer came from Diego.
"Diego can’t tell you."
The creaking of wooden stairs broke the silence.
A man with an unbuttoned shirt and disheveled hair slowly descended.
Under a brilliant red gaze, his beautiful lips curved into a smile, and he spoke as if coaxing a child.
"Be angry with me, Eileen."
Eileen froze with the mug in her hand and only after a moment managed to choke out, "Your Grace."
The triumphal parade was supposed to take place tomorrow.
Entire pages of the morning newspapers had been dedicated to the event, reporting that the Duke would march through the city in a victory procession.
And now His Grace—the busiest man in the capital these days—stood before her.
Not believing her eyes, Eileen hastily looked away.
Otherwise, her face would surely have flushed.
An untidy Cesare radiated a strange aura.
It was unusual to see him not in uniform, but in simple civilian clothing.
The unbuttoned collar, revealing his collarbones, only intensified the impression.
With a leisurely stride, he walked over and sat opposite Eileen.
She, coming to her senses, immediately jumped up, realizing her breach of etiquette.
Diego and the other soldiers were already standing at attention.
Cesare’s gaze drifted to the table.
Seeing the half-empty mug, he smirked.
"Finished already?"
Eileen covered her lips with the back of her hand.
To hold a conversation while smelling of alcohol was horrifying.
In reality, she didn't particularly like alcohol; she much preferred hot chocolate or milk with honey.
She had only ordered the beer out of a desire not to look like a child in Diego's eyes.
Regretting her foolish bravado, she answered as cautiously as possible.
"Yes... a little."
Eileen inconspicuously gripped the edge of her dress.
Her fingers turned white from the tension as she finally spoke.
"I wish to ask you something."
"Ask away."
Although permission was granted, Eileen hesitated to speak.
Cesare leaned toward her.
His shadow completely enveloped her.
The difference in their physical stature was so obvious that Eileen unintentionally held her breath.
Unable to look directly at him, she lowered her eyes.
"What?
You can't?"
If only Diego had been there, she might not have hesitated, but discussing personal matters in front of other military men felt awkward.
Seeing her hesitation, Cesare grinned and whispered, "Shall we speak in private?"
His playful voice sounded sweeter than milk with honey.
With a feeling of heat on her face, she whispered back, "Yes..."
But she immediately regretted it.
Suddenly, her gaze jerked upward—Cesare had lifted her into his arms.
"Y-Your Grace!"
"You said you wanted to speak in private."
He ascended the stairs, carrying the adult girl as if she were a small child.
Eileen squirmed in panic.
"I can walk by myself!"
"The stairs are old, with many broken steps.
It’s dangerous, so sit still."
"But, but..."
Cesare applied slight pressure to her back, quieting her.
The touch of his large palm made Eileen freeze like a statue.
Praising her for her obedience, he gently ran his hand over her head.
She felt terribly ashamed of being treated like a child, and even more awkward because no one around them seemed to find it unusual.
Neither Diego nor the soldiers even batted an eye.
To them, it was perfectly natural for the Grand Duke to carry Eileen in his arms.
It was all because of Cesare.
*‘It’s because of this kind of behavior that everyone treats me like a baby.’*
He himself set the example, and the others simply followed it.
Of course, she had been carried in arms often as a child, but she was an adult now.
Broken steps?
She could have cleared them in three leaps!
But since Cesare had already picked her up, asking to be put down was useless.
Eileen submissively allowed him to carry her to the upper floor.
As they ascended, she shrank into herself, trying to minimize contact with his hard body.
This made her heart pound fiercely, and she feared he would hear its beat.
Fortunately, once upstairs, Cesare immediately set her back on her feet.
Eileen hastily stepped back and, slightly swaying, followed him.
They were in a room that looked like a parlor.
Another time she might have looked around, but now all her attention was drawn to the man beside her.
Hesitant to look directly, Eileen stole glances at Cesare, but catching his gaze, she startled.
When her shoulder jerked, he smirked, narrowing his long eyes.
"I haven't done anything yet."
Seating her on a sofa, he headed toward a shelf in the corner.
"Would you like a cookie?
I don't have any tea."
Pretending to be an adult in front of him was useless.
Eileen submissively nodded.
Though, if this were a parlor, why was there no tea?
She looked around in puzzlement, but Cesare was already pouring cookies in paper wrappers onto her lap, diverting all her attention back to him.
He sat opposite her, an arm draped over the back of the sofa, and stared at her.
His scarlet eyes slid over her figure.