Callisto felt even more apologetic seeing the confused look in Renox’s eyes after the unexpected news.
“There were some outside circumstances, so Lady Istasha Rowen can no longer continue her duties. A new teacher will be arriving soon,” Callisto explained with an awkward smile. He wasn’t sure how he would’ve answered if Renox had asked for details—just imagining it was uncomfortable.
“Yes, I don’t mind,” Renox replied calmly.
“Are you really okay with it?”
“Yes. Employees can always be replaced.”
Renox’s poised response made Callisto feel more awkward. Despite having grown up in the slums, the child wasn’t ordinary at all.
“And soon, your swordsmanship teacher will arrive.”
Callisto recalled the letter he had just received—from Aaron Helverto. It said he would be visiting the estate within a few days.
Though Clemence hadn’t mentioned anything, Callisto was certain: this was her doing.
“Still, I never expected Aaron Helverto to come.”
When he received the letter, Callisto had been quietly stunned.
Aaron Helverto was a famous student at the academy. Always ranked first in the swordsmanship department, he’d even become the youngest Sword Saint at age fifteen—the highest level a swordsman could attain.
Strangely enough, unlike other Sword Saints, he had no disciples or attendants.
He claimed teaching others was too troublesome.
“Senior Aaron! Please let me learn from you!”
“I’d give up my family business and even change my surname just to work under you!”
Despite the desperate pleas of passionate swordsmanship students, Aaron always gave the same reply:
“If you can beat me in a duel, I’ll accept you.”
Coming from the youngest Sword Saint, that was practically a polite way of saying “never.”
There was no one in the academy who could beat him.
And yet, he had agreed to be Renox’s teacher—at Clemence’s request.
Callisto was equally impressed and amazed by her ability to rope in someone like the famously stoic Aaron Helverto.
“…A swordsmanship teacher?” Renox asked, looking up at Callisto with a hint of surprise. He had long wanted to learn swordsmanship properly, and it felt like his inner thoughts had been read.
“But I never said anything about that…”
The fact that opportunities kept falling into his lap confused and flustered him. Still, part of him was happy.
Only for a moment, though—his face quickly returned to its usual expressionless look.
“Don’t be happy about things like this.”
Renox reminded himself. Anything given by others could be taken away by them just as easily.
“If you don’t want to, it’s okay to say so. Ah, or if there’s something else you’d prefer to learn, you can tell me,” Callisto offered, not realizing Renox’s inner turmoil.
“…No, I want to learn it.”
“I see. That’s good,” Callisto replied, though Renox’s face didn’t show a trace of joy.
“He must be the type who doesn’t show emotions.”
Understanding this, Callisto nodded and was about to leave the room—then suddenly stopped as a thought occurred to him.
“Ren, Lady Istasha Rowen… she didn’t say anything hurtful to you, did she?”
“No, she didn’t.”
Renox shook his head. Callisto let out a sigh of relief.
“That’s good to hear. She didn’t mention anything about other noble children either, right?”
“…No.”
Callisto carefully studied Renox’s face.
He was particularly concerned about whether the name “Jacqueline” had reached the boy’s ears. Clemence had always been extremely cautious about that.
“She never said anything like that.”
Renox quickly picked up on the implication and reassured him.
“…Alright, then you’re free to spend the rest of your time however you like. You can take a nap, or do something you’ve always wanted to. You’re still a child—studying all the time isn’t good for you.”
Every time Callisto looked at Renox, he felt a pang of sorrow.
To lose both parents at such a young age… It reminded him of Duke Euclid, who had saved his own father’s life, and made him feel even more sympathy for the boy.
“Yes, Young Marquis.”
After Callisto left, Renox sat back down at his desk and opened a book—but his thoughts were elsewhere.
“She didn’t mention anything about other noble children, right?”
That question… was the first time Renox had ever lied.
In truth, Istasha Rowen had repeatedly badmouthed Melin Jacqueline during their lessons.
“Even the way she talks is stupid… She was the complete opposite of you.”
Renox remembered how she mocked Melin, saying she had never seen such a hopeless child before. Looking back, he thought having a new tutor might actually be a good thing.
Still, he hadn’t told Callisto.
He had learned from experience that talking about the past—or others’ flaws—was rarely beneficial.
“Melin Jacqueline.”
Her name didn’t sound bad when spoken aloud. He recalled something Istasha had said while giggling.
“Still, she was pretty enough. Especially those violet eyes—looked just like violets. With a face like that, she could probably land a decent second marriage. She’s not smart, so that kind of life would suit her.”
Most of it had been cruel gossip about how stupid Melin was.
Renox usually didn’t care for gossip, and had let her words go in one ear and out the other.
“But she didn’t look anything like her sister, did she? Her sister has red hair and golden eyes. How can sisters look so different? Even their personalities are opposites. The older one did seem smart, though… Too aggressive for a girl, maybe?”
Red hair and golden eyes.
That description made Renox unconsciously recall the woman who had once walked out of the parlor with the young marquis a few months ago.
“Rose.”
She had claimed to be his proxy sponsor—speaking down to him with authority, yet protecting him from the boys who bullied him. She was strange… but the only one like her.
She had worn a mask, concealing her face. But he remembered two things clearly.
“She had red hair and golden eyes too.”
Especially those dazzling eyes—overflowing with confidence. Like a burning sun.
The moment he met her, he instinctively realized:
She’s someone completely different from me.
“…She hasn’t come around lately.”
She had always drawn attention with her suspicious appearance, hidden behind a mask.
Still, until a few months ago, she had often shown up at the Skylar estate.
“If she’s that dull, she should just go back to where she came from. Maybe that place suits her better.”
At first, that remark had angered him. But when he thought about it again, her eyes seemed to be asking sincerely:
“Do you really think so too?”
It was a far cry from the condescending thoughts of nobles who believed they were “helping” others. There was no contempt, no pity—just an honest question.
That’s what made him feel a strange sense of determination now.
He wanted to show her—
That he wasn’t dull. That he was someone of worth, too.
But she hadn’t appeared since a certain point.
It was as if she had completely cut ties with this place.
When had that started? He absentmindedly began to calculate the time.
Then he realized something unusual.
“…It was after I signed the sponsorship contract.”
She hadn’t come since then.
Considering she was just a proxy sponsor, it made sense. Her job was done.
“Because you’re handsome.”
That’s what she’d said when he asked why she was sponsoring him.
Of course, he’d immediately sensed it was just a hastily made-up excuse…
Still…
She had said his looks were a kind of charm that attracted people.
But she hadn’t come to see him again.
If I’m so charming, shouldn’t she have come at least once more?
…It was just empty words, after all.
Renox furrowed his brow and rested his chin on his hand.
For some reason, he felt bitter.
