Are We Still In love?

“Welcome.”

It was just as Diego stepped across the threshold of the drawing room. A slender woman, seated with sunlight streaming in behind her through the window, greeted him with a faint smile.

“I pay my respects to Your Grace, the Duchess.”

Her radiant blonde hair was elegantly pinned up, and her green eyes shimmered like fresh leaves. Though striking, there was something ephemeral about her appearance, as if it might vanish at any moment. She was a peculiar woman.

“Please, have a seat.”

Cecilia gestured to the chair opposite her. Diego, perceptive as ever, took the indicated seat and met her gaze squarely. Considering his status as a commoner, it wouldn’t have been surprising for her to scold him for any perceived insolence, yet Cecilia offered no such reprimand.

“I heard you summoned me.”

Diego spoke quietly. After taking a sip of tea, Cecilia set her teacup gently on the table. Unsurprisingly, the motion was so smooth it didn’t make the slightest clink. There was elegance in her every movement, and even Diego could tell such grace wasn’t easily attained.

“James Morak? Diego Lawson? Which name do you prefer?”

“Whichever is more convenient for you.”

After all, they both already knew the truth—what difference did it make which name she used? Diego replied indifferently, prompting a brief chuckle from Cecilia.

“I simply wish to know why I was summoned.”

“You’re rather impatient, Mr. Lawson.”

With a relaxed expression, Cecilia straightened her posture. Diego instinctively sensed that he wouldn’t get the answer he sought from the calm and composed woman who now looked down at him.

Cecilia Burnett, Duchess Burnett, was a woman well-versed in concealing herself, in never revealing more than necessary.

“If you wish, I can speak plainly. I’ve asked for this somewhat impolite meeting because I wish to propose a transaction.”

Cecilia spoke without pretense. Diego blinked slowly.

“So you expected something along those lines.”

“What is it that you require?”

Diego’s response brought a look of satisfaction to Cecilia’s face.

“I need the information you possess.”

She was honest about her reason for inviting him. Diego let out a quiet sigh.

His merchant guild was large and a natural hub for information. He had recently disguised one of his shops as a pawnshop, using it as a front for information dealing. But he hadn’t expected Cecilia to know that.

“Is that all you know?”

“…….”

“I know your true identity as well.”

Cecilia’s faint smile faded. Her expression turned completely blank, and a subtle chill emanated from her. It was the face of someone in power—a look Diego was all too familiar with.

“If you know that much, it seems you wouldn’t have much need for my informants.”

Diego’s tone was polite but distant, almost evasive, as he studied her with interest. Cecilia Burnett was only twenty years old.

Furthermore, it was likely she had spent the past few years bedridden due to illness. How could she possibly know things even the Emperor didn’t?

“I can’t roam the back alleys myself every time, can I?”

Her answer was both arrogant and brutally honest. It meant the tasks she had in mind for him were secretive—and not entirely clean. It also meant that she was far too important to carry them out herself.

“The reason I summoned you today…”

“…….”

“It’s partly to offer you a task—but more than that, I want to see what Diego Lawson is truly capable of.”

Cecilia blinked slowly. Behind her, Diego saw a lioness sprawled languidly, lazily licking her paws.

“Will it benefit my future?”

Diego asked. Cecilia’s lips curled into a subtle smile.

“I can allow you to use your first name with pride.”

She replied softly.

“One day, I might even grant you the title you’ve long desired.”

There were many opportunities she could offer—and she could easily grant one to Diego Lawson. The knowledge of the future, thanks to her second life, was Cecilia’s one true advantage.

“How about the title held by Count Nova?”

But Cecilia knew of an even greater opportunity—stripping Count Nova of his title and bestowing it upon Diego.

“When?”

“When Count Nova dies. It won’t be more than three years. So tell me—what are you capable of uncovering?”

At her question, Diego let out a brief laugh. Her demeanor, as though she already knew everything he wanted, was amusing—but accurate enough that he couldn’t deny it.

“To be perfectly honest, it would be difficult to breach the Emperor’s bedchamber.”

He answered with complete candor. The palace was surrounded by countless knights and servants, making it a fortress of confusion. There was so much information swirling around that even insiders often couldn’t grasp the truth.

“But anything else… If Your Grace truly promises me a title, I will find a way.”

Diego Lawson—or rather, the man simply known as “Diego”—was someone driven mad by his lack of status. Born a noble’s illegitimate child and abandoned as an infant in the brambles, his inferiority complex ran deep.

“If you desire it,”

Cecilia promised. Only then did Diego smile with genuine satisfaction.

“What do you want of me?”

What he desired was intuitive and simple. And so long as someone could fulfill that desire, he was willing to offer his unwavering loyalty.

“I want to know about Count Nova.”

Cecilia met his gaze directly and answered clearly.

“What he’s thinking, what he’s done—and what his children are doing around him.”

In her previous life, the evidence Count Nova used for his accusations had been recorded long before Eden married Cecilia. That meant he had already been preparing to betray Curtis.

Even now, at this very moment, the evidence of that betrayal was likely being documented, piece by piece. Not knowing was one thing—but having known and still watching it unfold again? She wouldn’t allow that.

“How much time do you need? A month?”

At her question, Diego gave a relaxed smile.

“Let’s treat this as a simple test.”

“A test?”

“To see how far I can go—or what I’m capable of. Let this serve as a trial run, Your Grace.”

He wore a confident expression.

“I’ll contact you within two weeks.”

“…….”

“And if the information meets your expectations, I’d like a written promise.”

In his past life, Diego had indeed received a countship, though it came from his marriage to Illina.

Still, had he not been clever—or lacked the opportunistic instinct to seize the right chance—it would have been impossible.

“That works to my benefit.”

Cecilia lifted her teacup again. Their conversation had been brief enough that the tea remained warm.

“You may go now. I’ll await your message.”

“I’ll return soon.”

As Cecilia took a fragrant sip of tea, Diego offered a graceful bow and exited. Once he had completely left, Cecilia remained alone in the drawing room.

“……”

Truthfully, she didn’t feel entirely pleased. The thought that she was now absorbing someone whom Illina had used with her own skills in the previous life—it wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

“It can’t be helped.”

But there was no helping it. If the goal of this life was to give back what she had received, then now wasn’t the time to fuss over details. Determining what was honorable or not was something best left to naive knights.

Cecilia took a deep breath and thought to herself.

She couldn’t allow herself to waver. Like Eden in her past life—the man who softly whispered that he wished for her death.

Eden’s carriage approached the townhouse. Though it was drawing closer, it still showed no signs of stopping.

The townhouse, comparable in size to a small estate, made that inevitable. After all, the Emperor had demolished four separate townhouses to construct this one residence for Eden—it was only natural.

“……?”

It also meant that spotting outsiders was particularly easy. Apart from servants and authorized guests, no one else came and went.

Eden, who had just drawn back the curtain from the carriage window, narrowed his eyes at a figure slipping out through the main gate of the residence. Given how carefully he vetted his staff, it wasn’t a face he recognized.

“A guest of Her Grace, perhaps.”

He murmured softly. If the man wasn’t someone Eden knew, then it was likely he was there for Cecilia, his wife.

But the man looked like a commoner, dressed in shabby clothes…

“Your Grace, we’ve arrived.”

Cecilia was known for being reserved, particularly around men. Despite her beauty and delicate figure stirring the hearts of many, she had never been involved in any notable scandals for this very reason.

As Eden absentmindedly retraced the man’s appearance, the coachman’s voice snapped him out of it.

“Thank you for your service.”

Just as Eden stepped down from the carriage and acknowledged the coachman’s effort—

“Your Grace.”

Perhaps having heard of Eden’s arrival, Cecilia appeared beyond the open front doors of the townhouse. Slightly breathless from hurrying, she was all smiles, overwhelmed with joy at seeing him.

“How did you know I was coming out?”

“I asked Madame Monte to let me know.”

Cecilia replied shyly. Eden responded with a light smile, reciprocating his wife’s affection. He then dismissed the lingering thoughts of the unknown man from his mind. The man wasn’t worth dwelling on.

If there was some reason behind the visit, they could meet again. Cecilia, who claimed to love only him, wouldn’t be seeing another man for personal reasons.

“Shall we have dinner together?”

When Eden said he’d “make an effort,” he meant exactly that—a conscious, physical effort. Thus, he didn’t feel particularly guilty about his current indifference.

Honestly, nothing seemed that important just yet.

“I’d love to.”

Cecilia replied brightly to his invitation, her smile glowing. Her thoughts, her heart, and those who crossed her path—all still seemed of little consequence to Eden for now.