Chapter 158

“Um, Young Master Lloyd?”

It was an especially sluggish evening.

He’d spent the whole day at the construction site, sweating profusely.
He’d personally supervised the work with his tools strapped to his belt, standing under the blazing sun as if trying to photosynthesize with the workers.
He wanted nothing more than to wash up and collapse into bed.

But the maid, either unaware or unconcerned with that desire, approached him as soon as he returned to the mansion.

“Young Master Lloyd, the Count asked that you come to his office when you get home.”

“The office?”

“Yes, sir.”

The maid smiled brightly.

“He seemed to be in a very good mood. Said there’s something joyful he wants to share with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, sir.”

Something joyful? What could that be?

Lloyd shrugged.

‘Don’t tell me he won the lottery or something. Of course not. Maybe there’s good news from the capital?’

Maybe the Queen had announced another round of financial support.
Or perhaps they were finally building a direct highway from the capital to their estate.
That kind of “bonus news” would be wonderful.

With such hopeful thoughts, Lloyd followed the maid down the hall.

She knocked on the office door, and the Count’s warm voice answered from within.

“Come in.”

His tone sounded noticeably brighter than usual.

Something really must have happened.

Lloyd felt his heart skip with mild excitement.

“Thanks for the escort, Emily.”

Perhaps she hadn’t expected him to remember her name—her face turned crimson as he stepped inside the office.

The Count and Countess were seated on the guest sofas.

“Welcome, son. You’ve worked hard again today, haven’t you?”

“Well, a little.”

He sat opposite them.

The Countess poured tea with elegant motion.

“It must’ve been more than a little. Working outside all day in this heat must be exhausting. Here, drink this first.”

The cool tea slid down his throat, soothing his dry mouth. Lloyd glanced at the smiling couple.

“So, what’s this about? Something good happen?”

Both were beaming.

The Count’s grin stretched from ear to ear, unable to contain his joy.
The Countess maintained her composure, but even her refined demeanor couldn’t mask the faint delight radiating from her expression.

‘They’re really happy about something.’

Lloyd’s curiosity grew.

The Count couple weren’t frivolous people. They expressed emotions—joy or sorrow—gracefully and moderately.
In all the two years Lloyd had lived with them, he had rarely seen them this pleased.
The last time must have been when they’d finally cleared the family’s massive debt.

‘So it must be something on that level.’

What on earth could it be?

Just as curiosity was about to burst, the Count finally spoke.

“Ah, look at me, rambling before the main point. Here, take this first.”

He placed a thick bundle of envelopes on the table.

Even at a glance, there were at least fifty.

“What’s this?”

“See for yourself.”

“……”

Over fifty letters, all in different colors and sizes of envelopes.

The one thing they all had in common: every single one was lavishly decorated.

‘What the…?’

Judging by the ornate wax seals and paper quality, they were all from noble houses.

Lloyd frowned, picking up the top envelope.

He carefully broke the wax seal.

Inside was a letter written on elegant stationery, embossed with a family crest and made from the finest paper.

He unfolded it and began to read.

—To the Honorable Count of Frontera,

May your esteemed house be ever blessed with honor and prosperity.

We have long admired the rising fame and prestige of your noble lineage. Recently, we learned that your eldest son has yet to find a life partner. Coincidentally, our second daughter remains unwed as well. Thus, I wish to open a discussion regarding a possible union between our two families.

Once again, we pray for the continued success of House Frontera and look forward to strengthening the ties between our families.

—From the South, Count Cordona.

“……”

Lloyd blinked.

Had something gotten in his eye at the worksite?

Or had he suddenly developed dyslexia?

‘It definitely said “life partner” and “second daughter.”’

To put it bluntly—it was a marriage proposal.

A suggestion to form an alliance through marriage.

“What do you think?” asked the Count.

He leaned across the table eagerly, eyes sparkling, lips curved in a proud grin.

Lloyd offered a hesitant smile. “Don’t tell me the rest of these envelopes say the same thing?”

“See for yourself.”

“……”

“These are official marriage proposals from noble families. They were gathered and sent to the Noble Assembly in the capital, then forwarded here together. I did organize them a bit, though.”

“Organized?”

“In order of prestige and lineage.”

“You stacked the envelopes by ranking?”

“Exactly!”

“……”

“I thought it would make it easier for you to choose. Hm? Do I seem overly excited?”

“No, not exactly.”

“Not exactly?”

…Just a little overwhelming.

‘Haah.’

And, honestly, completely unexpected.

Trying to maintain his composure, Lloyd skimmed through a few more letters.

The Count of Ferrano from the North.
The Count of Esperia from the West.
The wealthy Viscount of Sicily from the Southwest.
There were also proposals from smaller nobles—viscounts, barons, and gentry families.

In short, nearly every notable house in the kingdom had sent a marriage proposal.

‘What the hell is this?’

He’d never been this popular in his life.

Fifty-nine noble families had sent him proposals.

Even if he counted all the girls he’d ever had a crush on, been close to, or admired from afar—including celebrities—it wouldn’t total fifty-nine.

“So, any family that catches your interest?”

“……”

The Count’s expression grew even more expectant.

Lloyd quietly emptied his teacup before answering.

He took a breath.

Stay calm. Don’t get swept away.

After a few sips, his thoughts cleared, and he began to see the situation plainly.

‘The reason for this flood of proposals is obvious. Our house is rising fast.’

Not just rising—soaring.

Their estate had survived the catastrophic Monster Domino that ravaged the eastern provinces.
Now, it was the heart of the entire eastern reconstruction effort.
The Queen herself had announced direct royal support.
Their title had been elevated to a County.
And Lloyd himself had thwarted an assassination attempt on Her Majesty.

They were now firmly positioned as one of the most favored families in the kingdom.

‘For the next two or three decades, we’ll be the most promising house in the realm. A rising star. A solid long-term investment. They’re all trying to secure an alliance early—before our value peaks.’

That made sense.

And since he understood the reason—

It was clear what needed to be done.

“I hate to dampen the mood, but I think we’ll have to decline all of these proposals.”

“……What?”

The Count froze mid-smile, his face stiffening.

“I don’t think now’s the right time for marriage.”

“Why not?”

Confusion and disappointment flickered in the Count’s eyes.

Lloyd could imagine how thrilled his father must have been—seeing so many powerful families eager to tie themselves to House Frontera.

But he spoke gently, choosing his words carefully.

“To explain it simply, it’s just bad timing. We should focus on rebuilding the estate. Besides, there’s little to gain from marriage right now.”

“Little to gain? Meaning?”

“I mean we’re already well-supported by the crown. Any ‘resources’ from marriage wouldn’t come for free anyway. And there’s another reason this timing is poor.”

“Go on.”

The Count straightened in his seat.

Lloyd spoke firmly.

“Accepting any of these proposals right now would just mean letting others use us.”

“Use us…?”

“I think you know why they’re all sending these, Father. It’s not out of love or admiration. It’s because our family is currently in the Queen’s favor.”

“True enough.”

“That’s exactly why. We’re still rising in value. The peak is far ahead. If we wait, our worth will only increase.”

Like a plot of land right before urban development.

Or a stock about to skyrocket.

House Frontera’s golden age hadn’t even started yet.

So if they jumped at the first sweet offer now, they’d regret it later.

“This is why I think marriage now would be premature. Give it a few years, and we’ll start receiving proposals from far greater houses.”

“Hmm, so you’re saying we don’t need to rush into a marriage with houses trying to secure us early.”

“Yes, exactly. Time is on our side.”

“Well, I don’t think time is on your side.”

“…Pardon?”

“You’re already an old bachelor.”

“……Cough.”

A clean hit to the gut.

The Count didn’t stop there.

“You’re twenty-seven, aren’t you? What noble heir stays single that long?”

“Well, that’s—”

“I’d like to see my grandchild before I die, you know.”

“……”

And there it was—the Grandchild Attack.

He wasn’t wrong.

Twenty-seven.

Back on Earth, that would’ve been young.

But in the continent of Lorasia, that was undeniably bachelor age.

‘Still, I can’t back down now.’

Lloyd steeled himself.

Honestly, he had no desire to get dragged into some arranged marriage with a noblewoman he’d never met and didn’t love.

He wanted something simple—an ordinary woman, an ordinary romance, an ordinary marriage.

So not now.
Someday later—when he met someone he truly liked.
That’s when he’d bring up marriage himself.

He explained calmly, that all these letters were from opportunists hoping to profit from their current success.
If their family ever stumbled, those same people would turn away without hesitation.

The Count listened silently, torn between pride and disappointment.

But it was the Countess who ended the debate.

“My dear, let’s go with Lloyd’s decision this time.”

“Honey?”

“He clearly doesn’t want this. We can’t force him into marriage, can we?”

“……”

“He’s always been reliable. Let’s trust him.”

“Phew…”

In the end, the Count surrendered.

Looking a bit deflated, he sighed.

“So that’s truly your decision?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Very well. What do you suggest I do, then?”

“Simple. Just send polite refusals.”

You had to draw the line firmly in such matters.

Lloyd spoke decisively.

He felt a little bad for disappointing his father—but it couldn’t be helped.

♣

“Haah… I suppose it can’t be helped.”

That night, near midnight.

Count Frontera was still in his office, pacing back and forth.

Each sigh he let out was heavier than the last.

He couldn’t shake off his disappointment.

‘Does that boy even want to get married?’

He used to worry because his son was too reckless.

Now he worried because he’d become too diligent.

‘Working hard is good. But I’d still like him to settle down soon…’

What parent wouldn’t feel uneasy watching their child grow older and stay single?

Especially after receiving fifty-nine marriage proposals from noble houses!

And to reject them all—

The higher his hopes had risen with each letter, the deeper his disappointment sank.

‘Still… I should respect his wishes.’

That was what a good father would do.

So he sat at his desk, took out fresh stationery, and picked up his pen.

“Haah…”

He poured all his regret into it.

His pen moved reluctantly.

—To the Honorable Count of Cordona,

May your house be ever blessed with honor and fortune.

Your kind proposal has filled me with immense gratitude. I deeply feel the warmth and trust that have grown between our two families. It has reminded me that sometimes an unexpected handshake can be a true blessing.

That is why I write with such sorrow and regret.

It pains me greatly that our houses cannot be joined through this wonderful opportunity. My heart aches to pen these words. I am weighed down by disappointment and sighs as if the sky itself has fallen upon me…

Please do not misunderstand my reply. Though I must express regret regarding your most generous offer, know that my heart remains filled with gratitude and admiration… and so on… and yet… truly… sincerely… blah blah blah…

Thus, with the night deepening, his “refusal” letters—full of ambiguous longing—were completed.

The next morning—

Twenty carrier pigeons took flight toward the capital, each carrying three letters of politely regretful rejection.