A Rational Person

The thick smoke from Clayton's cigar spread out in a dense haze.

Clayton, sitting on the armrest of the sofa, carefully surveyed the three men.

Even through the hazy smoke, his sharp red eyes resembled those of a predator.

Were they silently waiting for each other to speak? Just when the temperature in the room seemed to drop to the point of chilling their bones, Jackson finally spoke.

"Y-Your Grace! It's a misunderstanding. What we said was just..."

"Just?"

At the cold tone, Jackson rubbed his hands together nervously and continued.

"It was just a light joke that comes up naturally when young men gather! I'm sure you know we didn't mean anything by it, Your Grace."

It was a pitiful excuse.

The confidence they once had was gone, replaced by nervousness as they fidgeted like puppies needing to relieve themselves.

Clayton let out a faint laugh, amused by how the men's attitudes had changed so quickly.

"A light joke... That could be the case."

Unexpectedly, as Clayton seemed to accept their words, the expressions of the four men relaxed.

As it seemed that Jackson's words were being accepted, the others began adding their own comments one by one.

"Yes! Just a light joke. We're all in our prime, so something like that is..."

"But what about this?"

However, their excuses were abruptly cut off by Clayton's voice.

"It's because I'm in a bad mood."

His red eyes, now shining with a more intense light, felt unnervingly sharp. Was it just an illusion?

In the silence they had created, the sound of dry swallows was the only thing that could be heard clearly.

As they silently observed the man who ruled the room, trying to figure out how to get out of this situation, they were at a loss.

Clayton, who had been watching them indifferently, put down his cigar and then asked Jackson, who had said the most malicious things about Dahlia.

"By the way, how is the ship that Devon Count's family is making progressing?"

This was a completely different direction from the conversation up to this point. Jackson quickly lifted his head, startled by the sudden question.

"Eh? Ah... Yes! Thanks to Your Grace's investment, everything is going smoothly."

"Really?"

"Yes...!"

Jackson quickly answered, though he began to feel uneasy.

It made sense that he felt uneasy, as bringing up business in this situation was anything but appropriate.

Feeling an ominous premonition, Jackson bit his lip. The Seyer family was as wealthy as the royal family.

Especially Clayton, the current Duke, was renowned for his sharp eye and expertise in investments.

There were even jokes circulating that any business receiving Clayton's investment was bound to succeed spectacularly.

Moreover, Clayton was famous for not interfering in the businesses he invested in.

Compared to other investors who often meddled, Clayton was the ideal investor — large amounts of money without interference.

Jackson's family's shipbuilding company, having received Clayton's investment, was progressing smoothly without any major problems.

The shipbuilding was almost complete, with only the finishing touches left.

Until now, he had never been curious about the progress of the business, but suddenly asking about its development made Jackson nervous, and he bit his lip.

"Then why..."

"Oh, that."

Clayton answered without changing his expression.

"I just wanted to think about when it would cause the most impact to recover the investment."

Jackson's face twisted at Clayton's response. The idea of recovering the investment was like a thunderclap — utterly unexpected.

The others, aside from Jackson, inhaled sharply, their bodies stiffening in fear that the repercussions might fall on them too.

"Y-Your Grace...! What do you mean...!"

While Jackson's voice was nearly a desperate cry, Clayton remained calm, like a tranquil sea.

"I'll send someone to your Count tomorrow. You'll hear the details through your father."

Clayton, who had been enjoying the spectacle of Jackson's changing expressions like watching a play, stood up.

As Clayton's back, now devoid of any recognition, disappeared, Jackson hurriedly chased after him.

"Your Grace! Please think again...! Your Grace!"

But Clayton didn't respond, and Jackson bit his lip in frustration.

The issue wasn't the recovery of the investment.

If rumors spread that the Duke of Seyer suddenly pulled his investment, existing investors might pull out, and it would become difficult to attract new investors.

This would eventually lead to the family's bankruptcy.

If this information reached his father, Devon Count, he might not only lose his position as heir but could also be exiled from the family altogether.

"If the investment is recovered at this point, Your Grace, you will suffer significant losses as well!"

In order to stop the Duke of Seyer from recovering his investment, Jackson took a risky chance.

It wasn't the best move, but it was his only option.

Clayton paused in his tracks at Jackson's desperate attempt.

Thinking that his threat had worked, Jackson pulled the corners of his mouth up in a victorious grin.

"In two months, all the shipbuilding work will be completed. If you withdraw your money now, you'll lose all the money you've invested. Are you really okay with that? You're a rational person, aren't you, Your Grace?"

Clayton tilted his head as he faced Jackson, who was speaking out of turn.

"Did you see me as a rational person?"

The corners of his mouth twisted.

"You have no judgment of character."

* * *

Clayton's steps as he left Cavern House were heavy.

He wasn't walking too fast or too slow, but each step down the stairs felt heavy.

The coachman, spotting Clayton descending the stairs late, hurriedly opened the door for him.

"Your Grace, is there some urgent matter...?"

He didn't visit often, but when he did, he usually stayed for at least two hours, so the coachman was quite surprised.

However, Clayton ignored the coachman's voice and entered the carriage.

"To the mansion."

"Ah, yes...!"

It was strange that they were leaving as soon as they arrived, more than an hour later, but the coachman, noticing the Duke's displeasure, quietly urged the horses forward.

As the sound of the hooves and the rattle of the carriage filled the air, Clayton leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

"Is there a rule that only the Duke can hold on to things? Who knows, maybe the Duchess is holding something in both her hands too."

But as soon as he closed his eyes, an unpleasant memory rushed in, making him gnash his teeth.

"Damn it."

For some reason, today, the past kept coming back to him. He had come here hoping to clear his head, but instead, it felt like he'd been slapped with boiling water.

"I shouldn't have let it slide."

It seemed like he had forgotten that he had just wiped Jackson, the young count's name, off the family register.

He considered turning the carriage around again, but then clicked his tongue and let it go. Instead, he carefully pondered what they had said.

"Are they saying Dahlia has another man?"

He knew exactly what they meant by "flowers."

Having "flowers" in both hands meant that she was holding another man, other than him, in her grasp.

"Ridiculous nonsense."

There was no way a timid woman, who always worried about others' opinions, could do something so bold.

From the beginning, her character was not the type to commit an affair.

Thinking it over again, Clayton realized how absurd their words had been and let out a dry chuckle.

Perhaps the old bad memories had resurfaced, making him tired and overly sensitive.

At times like this, he should stay quiet in the room and clear his mind. Clayton thought this as he looked at the curtain that blocked the light in the carriage.

The sun was setting slowly, and he decided to clear his mind by looking at the outside scenery for the first time in a while, pulling back the heavy curtain.

They were passing through the busy streets, nearing a plaza crowded with people before heading towards the outskirts.

A familiar person caught his eye. He fixed his gaze outside the window and gave an order.

"Stop."

At the sound of Clayton's voice, signaling with a knock on the carriage wall, the carriage slowly slowed down.

When the carriage came to a complete stop on a deserted road, Clayton narrowed his brows as he identified the person he had seen.

"Why is Dahlia here...?"

It made sense, as Dahlia, who should have been at the mansion, was entering an old bookstore alone.

And she was holding the same kitten he had seen earlier.

Why was she carrying the cat into that place? Where were the maid and guards she should have been with?

Was it because everything seemed suspicious? Clayton got out of the carriage, feeling a strange unease, and decided to follow her.

No, he was about to, until an unexpected person appeared before him.

"...Rose Hertz?"

She was wearing a black robe, but it couldn't fool his eyes.

Her red hair peeking out from under the robe and her face looking around cautiously made it clear: it was Rose Hertz.