23.

The woman who had just introduced herself in such an outrageous manner was beaming.

What… did she just say?

Count Zellered was momentarily stunned.

His gaze flicked over the woman before him—she was, without a doubt, a great beauty.

Her curvaceous figure was emphasized by a dress that fit just snug enough to accentuate her shape without being overly restrictive.

Every slight movement wafted an intoxicating scent around her, a fragrance that was almost dizzying.

Had it not been for what she had just said, he might have been tempted to flaunt his power and wealth to try and seduce her.

But this woman…

She was the one from the rumors.

There had long been whispers about Leofric’s mistress.

A breathtaking woman who would travel to the warfront just to stay with him, spending nights in his tent.

Ordinarily, a love story like that—an intense, passionate romance that **overcame the hardships of war—**should have been sensational gossip.

And yet, no one spoke of it openly.

Even the bards, whose livelihoods depended on glorifying Leofric’s exploits, avoided the topic.

There was a reason her story was never romanticized.

Because she was a courtesan.

The hero of the continent, the man who had saved nations, was known to be stunningly handsome.

But the fact that his lover was a courtesan was something people could not accept.

A woman who had risked her life to follow him into battle—her devotion was dismissed, her existence hushed.

People whispered that she had **somehow enchanted him, blinded him—**if only for a time.

“…I-I see.”

Zellered was still reeling from the sheer audacity of this woman.

For someone the world pretended didn’t exist to stand before him so boldly and introduce herself as his mistress—

It shocked him.

“Where is Sir Leofric?”

The woman tilted her head slightly, as if bashful, her shoulder shifting ever so subtly.

The movement released another wave of her enticing fragrance.

“…….”

Count Zellered hesitated.

He had never considered a situation like this.

A mistress, appearing at the very moment they were trying to tie Leofric to the princess.

Ordinarily, he should have chased her away immediately.

But if this woman had enough influence over Leofric to follow him to war, then who knew what she might do if angered?

As Zellered struggled to decide, the woman took a step closer.

Her gaze glistened, filled with unspoken emotion.

Then, delicately, she lightly grasped the hem of his sleeve.

“May I see him?”

In the end, Zellered relented.

He ordered the knights to let her in—but also to keep watch.

And to verify whether she truly was his mistress.

The knights grimaced internally.

“What a disgusting job.”

A knock came.

The door opened.

Leofric was leaning lazily against the doorframe.

His silver hair was in disarray, strands falling across his forehead.

His shirt was half undone, leaving his defined chest partially exposed.

His blue-gray eyes gleamed under the dim light.

“Lavinia.”

“Leo! Ah—Sir Leofric.”

The knight stationed outside almost choked.

Someone had just called him “Leo”—so casually?

But the woman quickly corrected herself, remembering the watchful eyes on them.

With natural ease, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Leofric let out a low chuckle and effortlessly lifted her with one arm, pulling her into the dimly lit room.

“Thank you,” he murmured—just as the door clicked shut.

Through the narrow gap before it closed, the knight caught a glimpse of Lavinia pressing her face against Leofric’s neck, giggling playfully.

The knight shuddered.

This was beyond his pay grade.

Still, curiosity gnawed at him.

He hesitated, then pressed his ear against the door.

A soft thud came from inside.

Like a body being trapped between the door and a solid arm.

At that, the knight snapped back.

“Nope. Not doing this.”

He shook his head vigorously and stepped away.

It was now painfully clear why the Black Wolf Knights had vanished into their rooms the moment Lavinia arrived.

Inside the room—

Lavinia, still draped around Leofric’s neck, let out a soft chuckle.

“I missed you.”

“It’s been a while.”

“Oh, really? That’s all you have to say after I tell you I missed you? How cold.”

She pouted.

It was adorable.

“So… you’re getting married now?”

“…Lavinia.”

Leofric sighed, tilting his head down.

Lavinia slowly unwound her arms from him, slipping out of his grasp.

“I’m hurt, truly.”

She pouted playfully, then sauntered toward the sofa.

Leofric leaned against the door, watching her.

“What brings you here?”

“Oh, how heartless. I even sent you a letter through Nepi, telling you I was coming. And yet, here you are, acting all indifferent. Are you really planning to go through with it?”

Lavinia’s eyes widened.

And quietly, she observed his reaction.

Something about him felt off.

Not quite like the Leofric she knew.

And that intrigued her.

Lavinia’s gaze traced over his face slowly, as if studying every detail, one by one.

Then, she pouted slightly, her full lips pressing together.

“How disappointing. I’m tired from the trip, so I’ll just rest for now.”

With utter nonchalance, she casually shrugged off her outer garments.

Only a thin, sheer slip dress remained beneath.

Without hesitation, she strolled toward the bed and lay down on one side, settling in comfortably.

* * *

Lavinia’s gaze swept over his face, examining him carefully—as if she were tracing every detail with her eyes.

Then, she pouted.

“How disappointing. I’m tired from the trip, so I think I’ll just rest for now.”

With that, she casually shrugged off her outer garments.

Left in nothing but a thin slip dress, she strolled to the bed and lay down on one side.

The next morning, when the knights gathered in Leofric’s room, they found Lavinia perched on the edge of his desk, one leg elegantly crossed over the other.

“Ah, Lady Lavinia.”

“Edgick! How have you been? And Sir Jinpetsu—it’s been a while.”

Seeing Edgick, she leaped down, gracefully closing the distance between them before pulling him into a tight embrace.

Then, she placed a light kiss on his cheek.

Edgick, at first pleased, immediately recoiled.

“Do you have to do this every time?”

“Shouldn’t you just get used to it? You always react the same way.”

Edgick merely shook his head.

Lavinia was one of the few people who could leave him speechless.

And she knew it.

She would tease him endlessly, and from experience, Edgick knew better than to challenge her—it would only make it worse.

So he let it go.

“Oh! Sir Foven is here as well.”

“Good day, my lady. I must decline.”

With perfect politeness, Foven preemptively turned down her embrace.

Lavinia clicked her tongue in mock disappointment.

“The Black Wolf Knights are no fun. No one in the capital treats me like this. Actually—”

She tilted her head toward the door, grinning mischievously.

“Even the count’s knights outside wouldn’t act this stiff around me.”

Leofric allowed her to entertain herself with his knights for a while.

Then, finally, he cut in.

“Is there news from the capital?”

“The real news is here, not there.”

The playfulness drained from Lavinia’s tone.

“I couldn’t explain everything properly just by scribbling notes for Nepi to deliver.”

“Fair enough.”

“And yet, you treat a fragile woman who traveled all the way from the capital so coldly. How heartbreaking.”

“…….”

She clutched her chest dramatically, as if on the verge of tears.

Lavinia’s teasing spared no one.

Even Leofric wasn’t exempt.

It was her way of showing familiarity.

Leofric, already accustomed to it, let out a quiet sigh and ignored her act.

Instead, he asked—

“What’s the situation in the palace? Wintran?”

“He’s fine. At least, outwardly. I obviously can’t ask him directly about his true thoughts, but… he doesn’t seem restricted in any way. He even visited the temple recently. People say he moves around as usual within the palace.”

“…I see.”

Hearing her detailed report, Leofric felt both relieved and unsettled.

His expression turned cold.

“Wintran… did he truly abandon me?”

The possibility he had tried to ignore grew more and more likely.

“And the marriage negotiations?”

“With Lucian Salem? That’s impossible now. Salem Kingdom is already negotiating Princess Freya’s engagement.”

Silence fell over the room.

The knights had already heard rumors floating around.

After the war, they had expected Leofric to be showered with honor.

They knew how much his lord had anticipated restoring his noble title.

And many had genuinely hoped he would marry Wintran’s half-sister, Princess Freya.

But now, her engagement was being arranged elsewhere.

“…I see.”

If anything, it was Leofric’s own engagement that had been broken.

It had never been officially declared, but it had been expected.

And just like that, it had been quietly discarded.

“So using an engagement as an excuse is out of the question.”

Leofric spoke flatly.

He had very little left.

His situation was barely any different from Ateira’s.

He remembered feeling sympathy for her before—and mocked himself for it.

Then—

“Isn’t breaking an engagement easy?”

Lavinia tilted her head.

“…?”

Everyone’s gaze shifted to her.

“If the princess dies, won’t that settle the matter?”

For a brief moment, the words hung in the air.

If one of them died, the engagement would be nullified.

Leofric had once joked about it.

Now, that joke stood before him—tangible.