When The Count’s Illegitimate Daughter Gets Married

Ian stood in front of Larittes room. He always trembled when he stood here. If you knew there was a lovely girl with silver hair on the other side of this door, your heart would be bound to leap beyond two acres.

Ian became lost in thought before he opened the door. His eyes fell on the familiar warm oil lights, fireplace, and neat wooden furniture. To be a little more greedy, he wanted to find himself being called.

Honey.

Ian laughed at himself at the door, revealing fangs at one corner of his mouth. Of course, he wouldnt be called that! Larittes name for Ian had always been the same. Ian, sometimes you, and then again, Ian, Ian, Ian,.

When he was thinking nonsense, cold air touched his fingers through the cracks in the expensive old wooden doors. Ian frowned. A Swordmasters excellent sense knew that the window of the room beyond was open. Ian entered the room and faced the cold outside air. As expected, the window is open. Laritte was sitting at a desk on the right side of the bed.

Ian asked, Its still quite cold. Why did the maids leave the windows open when it wasnt time to ventilate?

Larittes room was in a good location with a sunny view of the Duchy. That didnt mean that the late winter days when you could only feel the energy of spring, would be warm.

Laritte turned the pen gently in her white hand. Still wrestling with the paper in her hand, she said.

I asked Alice to open it. I had to write a letter, but I cant think of anything. Perhaps the air felt suffocating due to the fireplace and my head was not working, Laritte glared at the letter. Ian was familiar with it.

To Olivia?

Ian gestured at the maid standing beside them. After getting permission, the maid strode to the big window and closed it shut. Ian was worried that Laritte might catch a cold.

How many lines should you write this time? he asked, checking the closed window carefully. It was a strange question. But Laritte replied naturally.

21 lines.

She recalled the first time Laritte received the letter from Olivia. The parchment Olivia found in her small town was neither as soft nor white as the Dukes. Still, ten lines of writing on top of it arrived well at Laritte.

Though the recent letters of how she was doing seemed to pass by, Laritte read the letter for quite a while. She didnt know how it felt to read a letter from her mother who abandoned her daughter. Surprisingly, it wasnt that bad. Although she had no good memories with her mother, it was new to write with her family.

And I actually have a good memory.

It was almost a month ago that Olivia stayed in the mansion because she was worried about Laritte. It was a pretty good memory for Laritte. Laritte didnt know, but it was a good sign that a memorable past came to mind when she recalled someone.

Under any circumstances, Laritte had written and sent back two more lines than Olivia. It was a desultory list of sentences like her, but Olivia was encouraged to send 14 lines of letters. Thus formed a strange rule that required two more sentences than the one received.

Olivia worked at the grocery store on a weekly basis, so she was able to send a letter to Laritte with her weekly salary enclosed. Today, three weeks later, Laritte received a third letter and had to write 21 sentences. So now Laritte was expressionless but bothered.

Olivia told a short story of the past through a letter. When she read it, she felt various emotions and time went by quickly, but it was very difficult to write a reply. Laritte tended to write stories about what happened, but there had been no special incident for a week.

The maids woke her up affectionately, then she ate breakfast in front of dozens of dishes and went to bed while talking to Ian.

Of course, she didnt have 21 sentences to write!

Ian sat at the desk where Laritte sat struggling and leaned on it, giving his opinion.

The ladies are coming in an hour, so why dont you write after the meeting?

Laritte recalled that she was supposed to meet her hobby club buddies.

Oh, thats right. I have a schedule. Laritte gently rose from her seat and threw her arms around Ians shoulder, hugging him. Then Ill have to change into my riding suit now. Today is the time to share my hobby, horse riding. Anyway, see you later.

Wait, Laritte.

Ian called Laritte, but she had already left the room. There was only one reason he came to Larittes room, constantly checking his clothes. It was to give a hug today.

It was almost 60 days since the right to hold hands, so it was his turn to kiss soon. But every time he hugged, he still it was something new and exciting.

D*mn it!

Ian had that good physique and a handsome face. It was reasonable enough to write a ten-page play synopsis. But what good was that face now?

Sighing, he looked at the tapestry on the wall. He had been lost in thought for some time, then he sighed and left the room. There was no time for long reflection. Hes been the busiest and most hectic these days.

***

In fact, Ian Reinhardt hasnt slept a wink all three days. He was said to be much stronger than others, but even he was a little sensitive. Ava, once a nanny and now a maid, walked past the decorations on both sides of the hall and stood in front of Ians office.

May I come in? Ive compiled the inventory.

Ian was sitting among the papers piled giddy above his height. When Ians permission was granted, Ava came in and handed over the paper. It contained the number of dragon-based items left in the Dukes residence. He read the papers quickly and concluded.

Eleven.

Eleven was far from enough. Ian nervously closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair and raising his face to the ceiling. Light penetrated through the closed eyelids, showing a solid red tinge.

Why was it so lacking?

In fact, he thought hed be fine for at least a few years. He had some spare time because he suppressed a dragon recently. It depended on the part of the dragon, but one thing protected Laritte for weeks to days.

However, unlike existing data, items were consumed faster and faster over time. He even got old stuff with Oscars help. However, such things did not last long at Larittes side than the latest production and were crushed cheaply.

If its eleven, at most a few days from now.

Ava observed Ian without going out. She asked, with her clunky hands, moving the papers aside from the desk.

What the hell is wrong with you, Duke?

The knights and the employees could also feel Ians weirdness. They didnt know the reason, but they knew that items made of dragon parts were very important for Ian and Laritte to last long. Ian blinked his keen eyes and looked at the ceiling. He was even annoyed, but Ava was not the one to pour it out. He sighed and answered briefly.

Its nothing. I shouldnt have bothered you. You may leave.

Employees were worried about the search, but it didnt help. They saved things related to the dragon with their own power, but they were useless.

He read a book that Larittes immediate twin maids had found in the capital. It was probably written by one of the dragons, by D. A Review of Human Problems on Understanding Mana.

There was only one kind of man who understood mana. A Swordmaster. Surprisingly, it was written briefly about what he and Laritte were going through, but the answer was still the same.

Break up as far away as possible, or one of them dies.

Ian opened the book again. The book was tamed because it was read again and again.

He read the last part again. There is another way besides those two, but I will not describe it because it is absolutely impossible for humans.

So tell me the other way! I would be the judge of it!

He hit the desk in a fit of annoyance. This caused the tower of documents to collapse and fall to the floor. He also needed to find Seta, but there was no news as to where Seta was traveling. Ians eyes reached the end of the eleven dragon-based objects left in the Dukes residence.

Item-11: A dress made from the dragons antagonism.

This was the relic of Ians mother, which Laritte said she would cherish more than her life.

If Laritte wore it, the dress would lose its mystical ability and become ordinary, decaying, and worn out decades later. He was not going to let Laritte wear it if he lost her after.

Grief deepened within Ian like the frown on his brow.

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