Chapter 254
So this is what it feels like when you’re completely at a loss for words.

Sero’s face twisted as he stared at the steward. Surely, he must have misheard something. His eyes pleaded silently for the steward to repeat himself.

The steward glanced toward the reception room at the end of the hall, where the guests were gathered, then lowered his voice once more.

“That’s not true, young master.”

“Is that even something to say?”

Rumors have their limits! Just as our family was on the rise, now they say Haiman and those people are involved?

Sero was about to rush into the reception room but quickly turned and headed upstairs instead. He hurriedly ordered the steward to bring his younger sister, Alena.

Tap tap tap!

Bang!

The office door was flung open roughly to both sides.

He strode inside, where rows of dusty bookshelves lined the walls. Every time his fingertips brushed over the documents tucked away, they left clear marks. “Chetur, Chetur, Chetur…”

“Ah. Found it.”

Sero flipped through the papers until he found the lease certificate related to the Chetur district. The paper was yellowed, edges frayed, and carried that unmistakable musty scent of age. Judging by the wear, it was definitely a document his father had handled when he was still in good health.

‘Still, I’ve managed all the recent income. If any money had come in under the name Haiman, I would have known. What is this? The rumor is too specific to be baseless—it feels ominous.’

Sero frowned as he skimmed the text.

Currently, the family owned only one building in the Chetur district, occupied by a small-to-medium trading company.

But they had been under contract for ten years already, with three more years to go. It was a well-established tenant. He was confident there was no connection to Haiman.

Clack.

A paper slipped from his hurried hand. Sero bent to pick it up, then froze. It wasn’t a lease certificate—it was a sales contract. Slowly, he unfolded the document.

“Damn it.”

A building in Chetur District No. 3.

His father had sold that building years ago to someone named Koaru Covil—a well-known blacksmith family from the capital and cousin to the head of ‘Ko & Co.’ The same ‘Ko & Co’ whose black armor materials were confiscated by the palace guard.

As Sero let out an irritated groan, a commotion stirred behind him.

“I swear, it’s not me!”

“Alena, please calm down.”

“Alena!”

“Brother!”

Sero’s sister, Alena, stomped her foot in frustration. Her exposed shoulders were flushed red—she was clearly heated. The fact that the person at the center of the rumor had heard it meant everyone else had heard it too.

“Did you meet Haiman’s second son?”

“This is insane! No!”

She held up both hands, insisting on her innocence. Sero carefully folded the sales contract and tucked it away before standing.

“No acquaintance at all?”

“Impossible not to know him! I’m eighteen, after all.”

“Tell me everything honestly. You know how sensitive it is to be linked with Haiman right now.”

“I danced with him twice. After the dance, we had a glass of wine. But you know how it is—at parties, unless your nostrils are connected to your ears, everyone does that much.”

Changing dance partners in a line was common, and wine and food were staples at these events. Alena rubbed her forehead and muttered in disbelief.

“If only something had really happened, I wouldn’t feel so wronged.”

“Alena!”

“What? Honestly, there are plenty worse than me. Want me to name names?”

Honestly, and without a doubt, that was true. The rumors lacked any solid truth to back them up.

Among the central nobility, who hasn’t dealt with the Haiman family at least once? Who hasn’t shown their face at a social gathering? Absolutely no one.

“This is so frustrating. From what I see, they’re trying to provoke us. Once this blows over, everyone knows what will happen to the Sero family. They’re just spreading baseless rumors to tarnish us.”

Alena’s voice rose as she ground her teeth. Whoever was behind this, she vowed they wouldn’t get away with it.

Sero agreed completely. The question was: who?

If they could trace the rumor back to its source, they might find out. But whether they had the time was another matter.

Sigh.

Sero tilted his chin up and exhaled deeply. Then, suddenly, Melania’s departure from the palace came to mind. The truth was trivial, but the rumor had spread fast and wide.

That meant those spreading it were quietly convinced of its truth. Convinced? Without evidence, that could only mean the person involved had testified themselves…

‘Melania?’

What could she possibly gain by undermining me? A family on the brink of ruin.

‘Ah. Maybe they want to damage me because I’m the family replacing Haiman?’

Sero, who was now openly opposing Haiman, had already gathered signatures and set a trial date. The justification was solid.

Is this the kind of shield Ian was talking about?

He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. Still, it was manageable. Rumors without substance were no different from cigarette smoke. Even if Haiman was sinking deep into the mud, they could just shake off the dirt.

“Alena, you should look into this too.”

“What? The rumors?”

“Yeah. You have more presence in the social scene than I do.”

“That’s true. I’m more popular than you, after all. Fine. I’ll check with the others. But—”

Alena turned sharply toward the steward. “Next time, you have to let me meet Sir Ian.”

“It’s not about meeting him, it’s just—”

“Okay, okay! I know! I understand what it means to be linked with a doomed family. Am I stupid? I’ll go. Whoever it is, if I catch them first, I’ll deal with them.”

She muttered that she’d tear their hair out, including Haiman’s second son. After all, with their honor already ruined and death looming, what was there to fear? Clicking her tongue, Alena left the office.

“What shall we do, young master?”

The steward glanced toward where Alena had disappeared. She would handle matters outside; he would have to manage things inside. Sero stood before the mirror, straightening his collar.

“I’m going to the reception room.”

He would dive headfirst into the heart of the rumors and stir up the impurities. If there was a problem with him, other nobles wouldn’t be free from suspicion either.

But if they pushed him just because he had Ian’s favor, he wouldn’t stand for it.

His trousers were already stained with mud. Even if he smeared some on others, who would blame him?

Creaaak.

Sero stopped at the hallway leading to the reception room. A faint white smoke drifted out from inside—an intoxicating mix of alcohol, music, hope, and gossip.

“Really? Dragon Kaglin? I’ve never heard of it.”

“I haven’t seen it myself, but I heard Haiman’s bank guards’ armor is made from it. A large shipment was confiscated in the Chetur district recently. It was on a day with heavy rain. The bridge was flooded, so the servants were in a frenzy all morning.”

“Oh, I remember that day. But that building belonged to Sero? Then did Sero not know about Dragon Kaglin?”

“Maybe not. He doesn’t do much besides leasing. Haha. Since it’s material for black armor, even if he knew, he probably pretended not to. That armor was used in the rebellion, after all.”

“I’m not sure if Sir Ian knows.”

“Of course he does.”

“Still, there are many questions. Why Sero? Why push a mediocre family so hard, even to the point of turning a blind eye? I think Sir Ajein here is more suitable.”

“I vote for not knowing. If he knew, the ties would be cut.”

“If he knew? That would mean he trusts Sero that much.”

Amidst the music, these whispered speculations floated around. Sero clenched his jaw tightly. There are limits to how much you can disrespect a family. Talking like this in the reception room… If only he had given Ian more noble names to pass along without hesitation.

Yes. That would have been better.

Click.

“Well, well. Looks like everyone’s gathered.”

“Sir Sero, you’ve returned.”

“Thank you for waiting. Have you seen Sir Ian?”

As Sero entered, the vipers eyed him shrewdly, eager to see if he had heard the rumors. Sero smiled brightly, as if he had just arrived, and took off his coat.

“Yes, I saw him. He looked well. I also had an audience with the Crown Prince.”

“The Crown Prince as well?”

The nobles exchanged meaningful glances at the mention of the sole heir and likely next emperor.

“He looked well too.”

“Oh, that’s a relief. As expected of Sir Sero. Without you, how else would we hear palace news?”

“Ha ha, not at all. I heard the trial date for the seven families, including Haiman, has been set. Sir Ian is concerned about rebellious elements and plans to conduct more thorough investigations for the time being.”

They intended to weed out anyone opposing the palace beyond those seven families. Without blinking, Sero turned to Ajein across from him and made a request.

“Lord Eijane, come to think of it, didn’t you once receive ship investment support funds from the Haiman Bank? I heard that Haiman used the ships from that deal to expand their overseas operations. Is that correct?”

“…That’s true, yes.”

His expression was a mix of confusion and mild irritation, as if wondering why someone would bring up such an old matter now. His brows furrowed deeply, but Sero paid no mind and continued with a sly grin.

“Oh, so it is. I thought I must have been mistaken.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.”

When Sero smiled broadly, the nobles exchanged quiet, sharp gasps among themselves. He’s heard it. Since everyone here has ties to Haiman, this was a subtle warning not to spread rumors targeting Sero alone. But ironically, it also gave the cunning nobles a clue.

‘Does Lord Ian not know about the rumors?’

They sipped their wine thoughtfully. If Ian didn’t choose Sero, then maybe they had a chance. After all, Sero was boldly stepping up to represent Haiman—if he could do it, why couldn’t they?

Sero, who had pushed Haiman aside, and the family that in turn pushed Sero aside.

A slow, deliberate glance.

Yeah. Why bother following Sero so blindly? They were barely holding on through leasing businesses and such.

The nobles exchanged knowing smiles and shifted their gazes. Meanwhile, the pianist’s fingers struck the keys with growing intensity, as if echoing the rising tensions within the opposition factions.

*    *    *

“Lord Ian.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“There’s something I’ve been wondering.”

“Please, ask.”

Ian was still seated at his desk, reviewing approval documents. Jin pulled up a chair and rested his chin on his hand, peering at the papers alongside Ian.

“If the nobles are divided, wouldn’t that only deepen the chaos in the palace? This is a time when everyone should be united. After all, the nobles are the pillars supporting Bariel, aren’t they?”

His wide eyes shone with a clarity and brightness that made him seem no different from any other child—whether reading books, drawing, or learning something new.

Ian set his pen down with a soft smile.

“You just gave the perfect answer, Your Highness.”

“What answer?”

“The more pillars there are, and the more evenly spaced they stand, the more stable and strong the structure becomes. That’s exactly what we’re doing now. There’s no need for everyone to be clustered in one place.”

“Hm. That makes sense.”

“The number of pillars won’t decrease. If one falls, another will surely rise. You, Your Highness, are the one who decides and permits that.”

Jin smiled quietly, lips pressed together. As always, Ian’s warm words were a comfort to hear.

“If the pillars are strong, the roof won’t collapse. If you don’t fall, then the people living beneath will remain peaceful. And beyond all that, the pain everyone must endure is already set. The more the nobles and officials suffer, the better it will be for the people.”

“So that’s why you work late into the night, Lord Ian?”

“Yes. That’s right. I am one of your pillars, after all.”

Ian smiled faintly and picked up his pen again. Then, with a decisive stroke, he signed his name—signaling his intention to participate in the upcoming trial of the Haiman family in the judiciary.