John Burbom

Eleanor Gwendolyn had never exchanged more than a polite nod with John Burbom during their engagement. It wasn't due to any personal dislike, but because her family's ever-watchful eyes shielded her from unnecessary interactions. The Gwendolyns were protective, their influence stretching like an iron-clad shield around her, ensuring that even her betrothed kept a respectful distance.

It was, after all, an arranged marriage. No one expected romance or intimacy. When the engagement took place quietly with only relatives present, there wasn't a single person in Gwendolyn's household who disapproved.

Why would they suspect anything untoward? The Burboms were loyal vassals. Baron Burbom had served the family with steadfast devotion for years. Betrayal wasn't even a whisper on the wind.

But Eleanor knew better.

Behind John Burbom's unassuming smile and soft-spoken demeanor lurked a hunger, one that could never be satisfied.

At first, of course, he must've been thrilled. A lowly baron's son, engaged to a daughter of the prestigious House Gwendolyn? That kind of social leap was the stuff of whispered envy in noble circles. But the taste of status had a way of souring once it settled.

Greedy, aren't you? Eleanor mused, eyes narrowing as Ralph shuffled his papers, preparing to deliver his report.

Being my fiancé wasn't enough. You wanted more.

John Burbom had quickly realized that Eleanor Gwendolyn, as the youngest child, would never inherit the Marquess title. She was a Gwendolyn in name, but not in power. That wouldn't do for someone as ambitious as John.

So, he set his sights higher.

Cecillia Emmeline.

The name left a bitter taste on Eleanor's tongue. The Duke's only daughter, naive and idealistic, believes in fairytales and true love. But even Cecillia's romantic ideals couldn't withstand John Burbom's calculated charm.

The announcement of the Crown Princess Selection had provided the perfect distraction. With Eleanor Gwendolyn tucked away at the academy and Marquess Gwendolyn occupied with imperial duties, John Burbom made his move.

And no one saw it coming.

No one, except Eleanor, who now reclined against pillows, her crimson eyes gleaming with anticipation as Ralph began to speak.

....

The maids had long since retreated, leaving only Tina stationed dutifully outside the heavy oak door, her head bowed in silent vigilance.

Inside, the gentle light from the warm fireplace flickered over a variety of beautifully shaped and colored displays, most of which were gifts from the south that Alger had recently brought. The light cast interesting shadows on the cream-colored walls.

Eleanor shifted slightly as she leaned back against the headboard, using a soft pillow for support. She pretended to wince while holding her bandaged temple in front of Alger and Ralph.

Alger sat on the side of Eleanor's bed closest to him, his posture relaxed, but his gaze was anything but. With his arms crossed firmly, his piercing blue eyes focused intently on Eleanor, who let out a groan. His quiet intensity revealed his concern without a word. His lips pressed into a thin line, showing his annoyance at the bandage wrapped around her head, a faint frown appearing on his handsome face.

But, as always, Alger Gwendolyn said nothing. His affection was subtle, expressed through small gestures, the slight crease in his brow, the way his fingers tapped lightly on the armrest as if he was holding back from overreacting and causing his sister more pain.

"Cough."

Ralph, ever the meticulous assistant, cleared his throat, drawing Eleanor's attention back to him. His expression was one of professional detachment, but there was a flicker of something else beneath the surface.

"John Burbom," Ralph began, his voice steady and precise, "formerly managed the finances of the Gwendolyn household alongside other noble vassals. However, several months after becoming Lady Eleanor's fiancé, he resigned."

Hearing the first details of Ralph's report, Eleanor listened with growing anticipation and hope.

Please let there be something important that wasn't in the novel! she wished fervently, hanging on to every word of the report.

"With the substantial dowry provided by the Marquess," Ralph continued, flipping to the next neatly organized sheet, "combined with his accumulated earnings, he established a manpower supply center in Selene's lower districts."

Ralph elaborated, "The Manpower supply center provides employment for former knights, those dismissed from noble service or who left voluntarily. These men are available for hire for various tasks, from protection to discreet errands. The business has maintained a clean reputation thus far, as all applicants are vetted for criminal records."

That's why his efforts proved quite successful and attracted widespread demand. The establishment became a hub where many former knights gathered, offering a variety of services. Commoners could affordably hire these knights for a few days to handle personal matters, while wealthy merchants sought their protection for transporting goods. Nobles, wishing to manage discreet affairs without involving their family knights, also turned to these former knights, ensuring their business remained unnoticed.

It was the perfect cover. A respectable business that allowed John Burbom to build influence among the lower classes while keeping up appearances with the nobility.

But Eleanor only kept that sentiment to herself.

"But," Ralph's voice dropped, laced with something colder, "his wealth isn't as stable as it appears. The high taxes, combined with operational costs and worker wages, have drained much of his resources. He's been seen making substantial withdrawals from his personal accounts to keep the business afloat."

"We had often wondered why he continued to manage the business himself. Why didn't he simply hand it over to Marquess Gwendolyn for support, given that he was Gwendolyn's son-in-law? Or seek assistance from a noble with greater financial resources to stabilize it before it risked shutting down due to a lack of funds? In the end, it seemed to come down to John Burbom's pride, so we chose to leave the matter alone." Ralph added this information in a nonchalant tone.

Eleanor's crimson eyes faintly sparkled.

So, you're struggling, huh?

That was useful information. Desperation often leads to mistakes.

In the novel, it was never detailed how John Burbom managed to gather information about the Crown Princess Selection, an event overseen directly by the Emperor of Magnolia, making it unlikely for such details to spread freely, let alone reach the ears of a lowly baron's son like him. Yet, somehow, he not only knew about it but also understood exactly what Cecillia Emmeline needed.

The Manpower Center, or whatever it's called, seems like the most suspicious place I need to investigate, Eleanor thought, already grumbling inwardly.

Ralph shifted to the next report. "As for his daily activities, nothing of particular note. He attends banquets, fulfills his duties as your fiancé, at least publicly, and maintains a reputation for honesty and hard work."

Eleanor almost laughed the sound bitter in her throat.

Of course, he does. You're good at wearing masks, aren't you, John?

Ralph flipped to the final report, his expression tightening. "However, there were... rumors."

Oh?

Eleanor's interest piqued.

"A few months ago, whispers began circulating in Selene," Ralph continued. "They claimed John Burbom was frequently seen in the lower district, visiting brothels and squandering his dowry on prostitutes."

Alger's jaw tightened, but he remained silent, his eyes flickering briefly toward Eleanor.

Eleanor, however, merely tilted her head, her calm expression unreadable.

Ralph went on, "Marquess Gwendolyn himself investigated, concerned about potential damage to the family's reputation. Our network confirmed that while John Burbom did visit the lower district and entered brothels, it wasn't for the reasons the rumors suggested."

"He met with brothel owners," Ralph explained, "inquiring about business opportunities in the area tax rates, security concerns, potential clientele. It appears the rumors were deliberately spread by jealous vassals who resented Baron Burbom's rise through the Gwendolyn family."

The room fell into a tense silence as Ralph finished his report, his gaze shifting expectantly to Eleanor, awaiting her praise.

But Eleanor's crimson eyes were cold, unimpressed. She regarded Ralph with a look that spoke volumes, her silence a sharp contrast to his hopeful anticipation.

Is this all you could gather in three years? Her expression seemed to say.

Ralph shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny, his confidence faltering.

Alger, who had been silent throughout, finally spoke, his voice low and measured. "What part of the report do you find lacking, Eleanor?"

Eleanor's gaze flicked to her brother, her heart tugging unexpectedly at the concern in his eyes. She knew pushing further might arouse his suspicion, but she couldn't stop. Not now.

"I just... expected more," Eleanor said quietly, choosing her words with care. "If he's hiding something, we need to dig deeper."

Alger studied her for a long moment before nodding. "I'll have Ralph's team continue the investigation."

Eleanor hesitated, then sighed, realizing that relying solely on them might not yield the results she needed.

They'll never find it.

"I'd like to keep informed," she added, masking her true intentions with a soft smile. "You know, just in case he's hiding something from me as his fiancé."

Alger nodded again, but his blue eyes remained sharp as if he sensed there was more to her interest than she let on.

Eventually, Alger fought the urge to ask Eleanor what was really bothering her and encouraged her to be honest. He kept his silence.

Nonetheless, Eleanor had already made up her mind.

If no one else could see through John Burbom's mask, she'd find the truth herself.

Her wounds had mostly healed. The bandages were just for show now, a convenient excuse to stay under the radar. This time to stepped out from behind her family's protective shadow.

It was time to confront the man who thought he could deceive the world.

Ah, John Burbom...

Eleanor lifted her hand, pretending to stifle a sleepy yawn, but in truth, she was hiding the wide smile spreading across her rosy lips.

You really thought you'd fooled everyone, didn't you? But you forgot one thing.

I'm not Eleanor Gwendolyn.