"Good afternoon, Mrs. Diago and Miss Serena," Chille said, closing the book pages and politely inviting the two guests to take a seat.

"Good afternoon, Chille," Mrs. Tiff agreed with satisfaction, admiring the beautifully delicate little countess sitting on the cushioned seat. She held onto her daughter, who was staring blankly behind her, and walked past their guide, Delfina Delettrez Fendi.

"This is your cousin Serena, who is eighteen this year and a year older than you. This should be your first meeting," she said, lightly tugging on her daughter's lace petal sleeves, gesturing repeatedly.

"This is your cousin Chille Lorraine Lande, the Count," she added.

"You...hello, Count," Serena glanced at the exquisite and bright face of the little count, blush creeping onto her cheeks as she gently shook off her mother's hand.

Frowning, Chille carefully observed the actions of the beautiful young lady in front of him with his cunning fox-like eyes, glancing at Delfina Delettrez Fendi, who was standing by with an icy smile. The smile on the little count's lips became even more radiant as he reached out his hand towards her.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Serena."

"Um...likewise, Count," Serena replied, gazing at his bright smile.

Feeling a lump in her throat, Serena suddenly felt a sense of restraint and instinctively recoiled her fingertips. However, Chille gently leaned in and grasped her hand, his skin smooth and ice-cold. The touch of his palm and fingertips was soft and elastic, like kneading a tiny dollop of white cream.

With emerald green eyes glimmering, Serena's heart skipped a beat.

"Just call me Chille, Serena, dear cousin."

"Okay, Chille...I mean, sir," Serena's lips formed sweet words, like a Rosamund rose dew.

Ahem!

With a solemn face, the maid looked at the strange color in Serena's eyes and felt as if a damp cotton ball was stuck in her throat. She couldn't help but cough forcefully to relieve the discomfort.

"Delfina Delettrez Fendi?"

"It's nothing, my lord!" The maid stepped forward to pour tea for everyone, discreetly giving a cold glare at the little count.

And then, as if influenced by Delfina Delettrez Fendi's cough.

Cough, cough, cough... several severe coughs, accompanied by painful hoarseness, abruptly shattered the peaceful atmosphere.

Everyone turned their heads towards the sound and saw Mrs. Diago covering her mouth tightly with a handkerchief, bent over and trembling violently.

"It's alright, it's alright," Mrs. Diago, with tightly-knit brows and a strange flush on her face, put away the handkerchief and looked at her daughter with a concerned gaze. She gently waved her hand.

"Madam, please be careful and take care of your health," Chille calmly advised, as if he hadn't noticed the bright crimson stain on the handkerchief.

"..." Sighing deeply, Mrs. Diago touched her daughter's head, who still seemed confused, with gentle and worried eyes. She was now Serena's only support after her husband's premature death. However, at the same time, their considerable assets were being eyed by others. She lifted her head and looked at the smiling Chille.

He must have already known all the basic information about her.

"Actually, besides discussing the recent trade between our families, I have another purpose," Chille said, sitting up slightly and taking the cobalt blue porcelain cup, lightly sipping the Rosamund rose tea.

"Roseham County, where the Hamovi family is located, is currently suffering from an epidemic, so I hope that Serena can stay at Lorraine Lande Manor for a while," he explained, and Mrs. Tiff took out a stamped and sealed envelope from her bag and handed it to the young count in front of her.Zi la -

The sharp silver knife gently cut open the envelope,

Chille quickly scanned the contents of the letter, a trade contract - the other party had already signed it and stamped it with the family crest adorned with banners and feathers, waiting for him to finalize the contract.

"I'm a little surprised by Lady Tiagof's handwriting on this contract."

Taking the goose feather pen, dipping it in ink, and then the tip of the pen hovering over the paper contract in the next moment,

Chille stroked the ring on his ring finger, a sword and iris, and looked up at the pale-faced beauty,

"I'm afraid this matter isn't so simple."

"..."

Silence.

Taking the cobalt blue porcelain cup in front of her, the dark green and red eyes looked at the slightly rippling tea in the cup, a fragrance of the familiar and cherished Rose of Rosenberg,

Lady Tiagof gently closed her eyes,

"But I hope you don't investigate too much into this matter, Chille. You just need to take care of Serena for me."

Raising her hand, Lady Tiagof stopped her daughter's worried call, and pleaded with the young count,

"Your Excellency, I beg you."

"Madam, it would be difficult for me to handle this matter if you don't explain all the information clearly."

Raising his chin, his eyes cold,

Chille was unmoved by the plea,

Directly pushing away the almost free trade contract in front of him,

"Pie in the sky won't fall, for either you or me."

Duo - duo - duo - Lady Tiagof's fingers kept tapping the table,

Once again, she remained silent.

The room fell quiet in an instant.

And at this moment,

Facing the series of numbers on the contract that made one's breath quicken and heart race,

The young count seemed to have no desire to even take a second glance.

Using the silver fork that had just been lightly touched by Delfina Delettrez Fendi, he cut a small piece of black forest cake, sprinkled with white powdered sugar,

Chille calmly waited for the other party to spill out what they had planned in their stomach.

"In fact -"

Finally, as if making up her mind,

The beautiful lady slowly unfolded her handkerchief, the deep red stains vividly imprinted on the snowy white silk,

"I don't have much time left, Chille. The doctor said my illness is incurable."

Her face, which had not had much color to begin with, seemed even paler now,

Lady Tiagof looked at her shocked daughter next to her, nodded with guilt and sadness, but in an instant, her gaze became somewhat mysteriously cold,

"Yes."

After listening to the emotional card played by the other party, Chille's eyes remained indifferent,

I'm sorry, but I'm not falling for this,

"So you want me to protect your daughter for a while, is that right?"

"Yes, and this contract is my payment."

"Oh?"

The young count leaned against the soft cushion behind him, his slender fingers caressing the black choker that concealed the contract,

At the same time, his gaze fell on the book on the desk that recorded the history of the Harvom family during the Borg Dynasty - "Lord of Blood and Roses",

Narrowing his eyes little by little,

Comes without any effort.