As soon as I returned to the mansion, the butler greeted me. I hadn’t told anyone when I would be back, so I was curious how he knew to be waiting.

“The staff took turns waiting for you, my lord. It just so happened that it was my turn when you arrived.”

“There’s no need for such a fuss.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the straightforward and certain approach. Of course, if you don’t know when someone will arrive, you just wait until they do. It was such a simple and obvious method that I had forgotten about it.

Patting the butler on the shoulder, I headed toward my room, and the butler followed, giving a brief report.

“I’ve shown the guests to the rooms they used before.”

“Good. It’s better if they’re in a familiar place.”

“And I’ve shown **Princess Margretta** the facilities of the mansion.”

At those words, I glanced back at the butler. To not just guide someone to a room but to show them the whole mansion’s facilities meant treating that person not as a guest but as a member of the household.

“Isn’t that a little soon?”

“It’s actually been a bit late. If **Princess Margretta** delays the wedding for a few more years after she graduates, it will be fine.”

I nodded at the butler’s firm response.

That would be too much. For **Princess Margretta**, who was already struggling with the desire to drop out, hearing something like “the wedding can wait for a few years” might make her faint. And behind that, the wrath of **Ironblood Duke** would follow.

“And I was going to introduce her to the others as well, but since I couldn’t be sure of the order, I put it on hold.”

That made sense to me. It was clear that **Princess Margretta** would be the first wife, but between **Luise** and **Irina**, it wasn’t certain who should be introduced first.

If we were still caught up in that chaotic idea of a shared marriage, maybe it would’ve been different. But now we must follow the order—first wife, second wife, and so on. So from the butler’s perspective, it was understandable that he wanted to show them in the proper order.

“There’s no second one among them.”

But the butler was mistaken. Neither **Luise** nor **Irina** was the second wife.

“Oh, is that so? That’s unfortunate. I wanted to introduce myself beforehand.”

“I already met him last time. **Marjongong**.”

The butler, who had been following me, stopped in his tracks for a moment.

“…Right. I had forgotten for a second.”

He quickly resumed walking, as if it were nothing, but…

“Ha-ha, it really was a chaotic day.”

“That’s a day no one can forget.”

Anyone who saw **Marjongong** that day would never be able to forget it. 

He had collapsed, his shoes off, just crying silently, with wounds from falling and tearing everywhere. I was just as shocked to see his devastating state.

I had to make sure something like that would never happen again. If something like that were to happen again, rumors about me being an abusive husband might spread.

“By the way, is **Luise** in her room?”

As I thought of that awful future, I turned my attention back to the butler. Having successfully handed over ring No. 2, it was now time for No. 3.

Also, from the way the butler was acting, it seemed like **Luise** was being treated as a lady of the house too, but the more she’s treated that way, the more it would eat away at **Luise**. She’d be happy to be treated like a lady by the servants, but each time she remembered that she hadn’t even gotten an answer from me, it would be bittersweet.

“She’s in the kitchen. The servants were making snacks for her.”

The butler said, his expression subtly softened. It seemed that the idea of the lady of the house making something for the servants made him pleased.

“If you don’t like it, you’ll have to eat it anyway.”

“If there’s anything left for me to eat, I will.”

The butler’s words made me laugh, and he joined in the laughter as well.

While only one person was making the snacks, there were many mouths to feed, especially snack-hungry people like **Yuris** and **Sophia**, so the butler’s share would be quite minimal.

---

As soon as I arrived at **Brother's** mansion, I couldn’t hide my excitement.

Thanks to **Princess Margretta**, the tour of the **Ulken Duke’s** territory had been enjoyable, but the main reason we had gone to **Ulken** was for **Brother** and **Princess Margretta**’s engagement, so I had to be somewhat reserved.

No matter how much I loved wandering around, I didn’t want to make noise at a time when **Princess Margretta’s** future was at stake.

After this unintended period of restraint, arriving at **Brother's** mansion was incredibly comfortable.

“The lady-to-be is a little nervous while serving the future ladies.”

The butler’s words not only brought comfort but also joy.

It was only natural for **Princess Margretta** to be regarded as the mistress. **Brother** and **Princess Margretta’s** relationship was practically common knowledge, even if it hadn’t been officially announced. There was even a ring on **Princess Margretta’s** finger.

In contrast, I didn’t have a ring, nor had I received any answer from **Brother**. In such a situation, being addressed as the lady of the house by **Brother’s** servants made me happy.

...And if **Brother’s** servants were treating me like the lady of the house, it meant that **Brother** had already given them some kind of hint.

‘That’s a possibility.’

Yes, they must know something and are treating me like a lady of the house because of that. There’s no way they’d be calling me that without confirming **Brother’s** intentions first.

With that thought, the slight anxiety I had quickly faded. After all, being invited to **Brother's** mansion, along with **Princess Margretta**, and even **Irina**, was a good sign.

The butler’s actions calmed my heart. I wanted to repay those who had helped me calm down, even if just a little.

“Excuse me, butler.”

“Yes, feel free to speak.”

I cautiously asked the smiling butler.

“May I use the kitchen?”

It was a modest offering. I was still just a young noblewoman with neither a title nor a fief to inherit, so I didn’t have much to give.

But even so, it would be better to prepare something, even if it’s just a small token, rather than give nothing at all.

---

Fortunately, I was allowed to use the kitchen. Well, rather than asking permission, I was told I could use it freely, so it didn’t really feel like an approval.

The kitchen was large. I had seen it a few times last summer, but every time I saw it, I was still impressed by its size. How did **Brother** acquire such a mansion?

“If you need any tools or ingredients, please let me know anytime.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you.”

“Please don’t be so formal. I feel awkward being treated with such respect by someone like you.”

I awkwardly smiled at the jovial head chef.

‘Head chef?’

I had seen him before, but he always felt like a new experience. With that huge build, calling him the head chef seemed odd. I mean, I couldn’t judge by appearance alone, but he certainly didn’t seem to be the typical kitchen type.

He was a muscular giant with tanned skin, a height of nearly 2 meters, and a perfectly clean-shaven head. His hygiene obsession was evident in how he shaved everything off, including his beard. He looked more like a mercenary from a novel than a kitchen worker.

‘Wow...’

And every time the head chef moved, his arm muscles seemed to flex as though alive.

What exactly was a head chef in this mansion? Did he have to hunt down ingredients if he needed meat? **Brother**’s standards were clearly high.

“I guess I look a bit intimidating, huh?”

“Oh, no, not at all.”

I quickly shook my head at the chef’s question, smiling awkwardly.

It wasn’t a lie. He wasn’t just a bit intimidating, he was *very* intimidating.

“Haha, thank you, though. I do know my own appearance. The young ones always cry when they first see me.”

I immediately thought of two young maids with brown hair, always sticking together like they were one.

The mansion’s staff also seemed to adore those two girls. They were diligent and friendly, and even though they were just maids, they were well-liked.

Even those girls had cried in front of the head chef... I see...

“Thanks to that, I had to bribe them with cake.”

The head chef said it with joy, but I winced. The image of a hulking man offering cake to little girls flashed in my mind.

No, no, don’t think like that. He only looks intimidating on the outside, but he’s a normal person on the inside. I’m being rude with these assumptions.

“…The butler said you were going to call the guards, though.”

“Hahaha…”

I just smiled at the somewhat deflated-looking head chef. It seemed like everyone had the same thoughts I did.

Still, the conversation helped ease my tension about the head chef. Now I knew he was just an intimidating-looking person on the outside.

---

“It seems like we’ve chatted too long. Anyway, I’ve made so many things, and the staff here are quite used to desserts. There’s no one here who dislikes sweets, so feel free to make whatever you like.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Haha, no need to thank me. We should be the ones grateful since you’re making something for us.”

The head chef said this and then turned to his work—

“Oh, I almost forgot to mention.”

He came back to me and whispered softly.

“The master eats anything, but he won’t touch cookies.”

“…What?”

I stared blankly at the head chef, not understanding what he meant.

What was he talking about? **Brother** always ate cookies, and many other things too...?

The head chef looked at me with a smile, as if trying to explain something important.

"Master doesn't eat cookies... It's something I had to learn the hard way."

"...What?"

I repeated in confusion, trying to process what he was saying. Why would Brother not eat cookies? I recalled how he used to enjoy all kinds of sweets.

The head chef chuckled, clearly amused by my confusion.

"It’s true. Since the academy days, his taste has changed... He eats all sorts of things, but never cookies."

"That’s... strange."

I couldn't hide my surprise. How could Brother suddenly not like cookies? It didn’t make sense.

The head chef paused, perhaps noticing my confusion, then gave a soft, almost apologetic smile.

"I apologize for the misunderstanding. I was simply trying to be considerate, but it seems I’ve confused you."

At that, I relaxed a little. It wasn’t that I had done something wrong—it was just a mix-up about Brother’s current tastes.

"Well, I guess I should’ve clarified that earlier. But now I know."

"Yes, of course. Please don’t let it trouble you."

I waved off the concern, relieved that it was just a small mistake. Still, it left me wondering about Brother’s change in taste.

After the brief exchange with the head chef, I finally turned my attention back to the task at hand. I was in the kitchen, now feeling more at ease. The vast kitchen felt like a world of its own, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the space and the tools.

"Should I start preparing something?" I asked myself quietly, glancing at the array of ingredients neatly laid out.