The guard spoke in a detached manner, following his duty.

“His Lordship the Marquis is currently at the royal palace...”

“I already checked. I know he's at home. Now go tell him.”

“Well, that's...”

The guard was flustered.

Marquis Branford wasn't someone you could just show up and meet on a whim. You had to send word in advance, make an appointment, and then wait months for the opportunity to meet him.

Even now, there were dozens of nobles waiting to meet the marquis.

“If you leave your name and reason in the guestbook, someone will get back to you with a scheduled time...”

“I came for something very important, so at least send word inside. If they still tell me to leave, then I’ll go.”

“Well, I mean... Hah.”

The guard sighed, calming his temper as he asked for the reason.

“If you tell me the purpose of your visit, I'll pass it on inside.”

“Tell them it's about Lady Rosaline. She bought my cosmetics a few days ago, and I came to check on her condition and offer any help I can.”

At the mention of the name Rosaline, the guard's face stiffened immediately.

There was a time when the Branford family searched for any and all cosmetic products and medicines to try and heal Rosaline’s skin condition. Desperate opportunists showed up with unproven remedies and sometimes outright scams. Each time, out of hope, Rosaline would try them. None worked.

In fact, her condition only worsened, and there was even a time she nearly died from poison in one of the so-called cures.

Marquis Branford did not forgive those who took advantage of his daughter’s suffering.

To the guard, Ghislain looked like just another fool marching straight to his own death.

The guard cautiously advised him.

“I understand, but... You should give up. You could easily lose your head over this.”

“I’ll be fine. Just pass the message.”

“I’m the one who won’t be fine! If I let someone in without care, I’ll be dead. Just delivering the message could get me killed.”

The guard pleaded, his face full of desperation.

Seeing the guard closing his eyes tightly, trying to hold firm, Ghislain scratched his head.

“Then at least call the butler. Tell him the person who sold the cosmetics to the young lady is here. Even if the marquis can’t meet me, I can surely meet the butler, right?”

“Well...”

“Hurry!”

Ghislain pressed hard.

Marquis Branford was a difficult man to meet, especially if he left home. This could be the only opportunity for a long time.

In the end, the guard, pushed by Ghislain’s insistence, called for the butler.

The butler, wearing the same emotionless expression as when they first met, asked Ghislain bluntly.

“What business do you have?”

“Have you tried the cosmetics? How was it?”

“They were of no use.”

Ghislain nodded, not surprised by the answer.

“That’s what I expected. I did some research, and to treat Lady Rosaline’s condition, it seems like we need something more than just cosmetics.”

“What do you mean by 'something more'?”

“Well... It’s not something I can explain here. I need to speak to the marquis.”

Ghislain crossed his arms, smiling slyly.

“Go tell him I’m here. Tell him this is his daughter’s last chance for a cure. If he refuses, well, that’s his loss. Let’s see who stands to lose more.”

The butler hesitated for a moment, then warned him.

“If this is a lie, you’re putting yourself in great danger. The marquis is not a man who forgives easily, even for nobles.”

Ghislain frowned in frustration.

“Look, you’ve got nothing to lose, right? Just go tell him. Don’t regret it later.”

Though Ghislain’s attitude was hardly noble-like, his confidence was undeniable. The butler felt a little swayed.

Though the cosmetics hadn’t worked for Rosaline, they were highly praised by many other nobles. Maybe, just maybe, he really had a solution.

“For us, perhaps we have little to lose. But you, Baron Fenris, it could be a different story. Regardless, if you insist, I’ll relay your message to His Lordship.”

“Now we’re talking.”

The butler turned and went to inform Marquis Branford.

In his study, surrounded by piles of paperwork, Marquis Branford tilted his head upon hearing the butler's report.

“Baron Fenris? Who is that?”

“The one who sold the cosmetics a few days ago. A young noble backed by Countess Aylesbur.”

“Ah, yes. I remember now. So, he’s here without an appointment?”

“Yes. He claims he can cure the young lady’s illness.”

The marquis narrowed his eyes.

“A bold fellow. Who does he think he is, coming here uninvited?”

Rather than focusing on his claim to help his daughter, the marquis was more displeased by the audacity of the visit.

Did this place seem so accessible to him?

This was nothing less than a challenge to his authority.

“Send him away. And make it clear he’s not to return.”

Despite the marquis’s firm stance, the butler gently attempted to persuade him.

“He seems to be a noble who has just arrived from the countryside, likely unaware of proper protocol. However, given how confident he is, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to hear him out.”

The marquis frowned but didn’t become angry.

A butler who had served him faithfully for so long wouldn't say this without reason.

Sensing the marquis's hesitation, the butler pressed further.

“Lady Rosaline’s condition has worsened lately. Baron Fenris’s cosmetics have earned quite a reputation among the local nobility. Perhaps he has an unconventional method that could help.”

The marquis asked with a blank expression.

“Do you think it’s worth it?”

It wasn’t as though the marquis had done nothing to try and help his daughter.

But despite all his influence, no remedy had worked for Rosaline.

As her father, he felt sorry for her, but he wasn’t overly concerned.

In the end, she would live as a noblewoman. Even if her condition remained, it wouldn't impact her ability to fulfill her role in life.

“Wouldn't it be more peaceful for the household if she were cured? If it’s a lie, you can punish him afterward.”

The marquis smirked.

“If I behead him, Meriel will be upset.”

“My lady will understand. If he fails, it will be because he lied to you.”

The marquis had never forgiven anyone who deceived him or challenged his authority.

Not even Meriel’s backing could save this baron if that were the case.

“No exceptions.”

“Bring him in. I’ll decide whether to send him away after speaking with him. And gather more information on Baron Fenris.”

“Yes, sir.”

A short while later, the gates of the Branford estate swung open.

The guard, who had been watching Ghislain, looked surprised.

It was rare for the marquis to allow anyone in who came unannounced.

Ghislain, nodding as though this was the obvious outcome, confidently stepped inside.

Marquis Branford sat in the main hall, staring at Ghislain with an emotionless gaze.

He spoke with a sarcastic tone.

“So, the man at the center of all the recent buzz has come to see me in person. You say you can help my daughter?”

Ghislain, not one to bother with unnecessary formalities, replied boldly.

“Yes. I believe I can help your daughter.”

“You’re quite confident. But why should I trust you with my daughter?”

“Didn’t the butler tell you? I’ve cured ‘The Eternal Punishment’ before. I’m not like the others who’ve come to you.”

The marquis slowly picked up a document and began to read it.

“Yes, I’ve heard rumors about a priest in Rayfold claiming such a thing. But there’s no proof it was you.”

‘As expected of the Branford Marquis. Keeping track of even the most remote areas.’

The marquis continued.

“A Northern rogue, a backwater Swordmaster, a liar, a fool’s friend, a bundle of inferiority, a madman... Would you trust someone with those kinds of nicknames?”

Ghislain, careful not to reveal his irritation, kept his head down to avoid showing any facial expression.

‘He’s got quite the detailed record.’

Regardless of his reputation, Ghislain was still the heir to a noble house. Naturally, the marquis had gathered information on him, even if it wasn't all flattering.

After a brief moment, Ghislain raised his head, his expression composed once again.

“I heard even the priests couldn’t cure your daughter. Divine power isn’t all-powerful, after all.”

“You speak quite carelessly about things that would shock the church.”

The marquis leaned back in his chair, an intrigued look crossing his face.

“You’ve never even met my daughter. How do you know what her symptoms are or how to help?”

“The rumors are already well-known. Let me try. It won’t take long.”

The marquis chuckled softly, resting his chin on one hand.

“Are you fearless, or just so new to the capital that you don’t realize how things work? Well, from the way you talk, I assume you’re prepared to risk your life?”

“Do you have to risk your life just to help someone?”

“Why? Are you not confident?”

The marquis's lips twisted into a cold smile.

“I know Count Ferdiem has a hard time up north. I’ll forgive you this once, out of respect for your father. Don’t cross the line any further and leave. This isn’t your domain.”

Count Ferdiem, though poor, was a noble loyal to the crown and known for his honor.

There had been talks among royalist nobles about increasing support for Ferdiem, but the conflict with Duke Delphine had stalled those efforts.

‘Once is fine.’

Marquis Branford had decided to forgive Ghislain’s rudeness this time, considering it repayment for his father’s loyalty.

But Ghislain ignored the marquis’s offer and countered.

“Do you not want to cure your daughter?”

The marquis answered indifferently.

“It would be nice, but it’s not necessary. Her life isn’t in danger.”

“I doubt she feels the same way. I can cure her, and I’ll prove it.”

Ghislain’s stubbornness left Belinda and Claude, standing by his side, pale with worry.

The marquis glanced at Ghislain’s uneasy subordinates and chuckled softly.

Despite his servants' clear anxiety, Ghislain showed no intention of backing down from his claim.

The marquis was impressed by his courage, if nothing else.

“Well, if you insist, go ahead and try. If you succeed, I’ll reward you. Butler.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ensure that Baron Fenris has all the support he needs for his treatment. Once the matter is resolved, I’ll decide what to do with him.”

“Understood.”

“You’re dismissed.”

The marquis waved his hand, his face filled with disinterest.

Already, thoughts of his daughter and Ghislain had been pushed to the back of his mind.

As he rose to continue contemplating his plans for dealing with Duke Delphine, Ghislain spoke confidently.

“I don’t need any simple reward.”

“What?”

The marquis, ready to leave, turned back to Ghislain.

“I said, I don’t need an ordinary reward. Instead, grant me one thing that I want.”