Strike while the iron’s hot—she refused to drag out a decision once made.

She’d also convert some assets into emergency funds. Gathering information and raising a child would both require considerable money.

“Raising the child could be covered by Herman’s money, but strangely, Esina wanted to use her own emergency funds for at least a few things. It was both a stepmother’s consideration for an unfamiliar child and, in a way, her consideration for a being who would become the child she herself could never bear.”

‘Truthfully, I’m using this child… to solidify my marriage. It prickles my conscience.’

Moreover, she wanted to contribute—to feel like she and Herman were raising the child together.

Now that she and Herman…

‘…wanted to stay together for a long, long time.’

The only problem was getting outside.

‘I already know where to sell things, where to find the information broker.’

Thanks to her memories of the original story, Esina roughly recalled the informant’s lackeys and the right people to approach for smuggling—details the original villainess Esina had used.

It grated on her nerves. She knew how to do it but couldn’t act. Time kept passing, and the longer the child stayed with its birth mother, the crueler it would be to separate them. That thought unsettled her too.

“This won’t do.”

After a moment of deliberation, Esina rose abruptly.

“Just because they say I can’t leave doesn’t mean I’ll actually stay.”

Rustle— When she yanked open the wardrobe, a flood of clothes spilled out.

Among them was a travel bag brought from her, the Lehire County. Inside, she found a frayed dress and a tattered cloak—so plain they could pass as a commoner’s.

These were clothes from her youth, back when she was too young and wretched to even be part of marriage schemes. Garments she’d worn to slip away from the family that despised her, yearning to be alone.

The cloak, stolen from a maid long ago, would make her look like an ordinary servant if draped over her head.

If I pretend to be a maid and leave, they won’t stop me.

‘I thought I’d never wear these again.’

Life was truly unpredictable.

With that thought, Esina wrapped herself in the old cloak and slipped out of Herman’s mansion.

**`* * *`**

“The contract seems likely to proceed smoothly, Viscount.”

In a private room at a renowned café in the capital, Herman dismissively waved a hand at his secretary’s bow.

Days without proper sleep and relentless work had left his face several times more haggard than usual, exuding a dangerously decadent aura. A waitress delivering coffee stole furtive glances at him, unable to look away.

“…….”

Normally, he might’ve returned a teasing smirk—but today, he couldn’t muster the energy.

The afterimage of Esina’s small back—curled away from him as if recoiling—still lingered in Herman’s mind. Along with the face he’d seen just before.

“Wait… just a moment…”

Eyes brimming with tears, she’d retreated to bed as though she couldn’t bear to touch him again.

Where was all that boldness from when she’d seduced me? And now, over a few harsh words—

‘This is absurd.’

Unless she wasn’t trying to get his attention, it made no sense for the ever-defiant Esina to act this way.

Yet, maddeningly, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. So much so that he’d abandoned his lavish home office to work here, of all places.

If he stayed at the mansion, he’d inevitably run into her—and he had no idea what expression she’d wear, what eyes she’d fix on him. Nor did he know how he should look at her in return.

Truthfully, it wasn’t just that incident. Lately, the way Esina gazed at him…

‘…is nothing like when we first met.’