THCBBI Chapter “Let’s make a deal.”
Izuli’s eyes sparkled as she stepped closer to him.
“I’ll keep your secret and gladly help you. In return, you help me make sure the heir I choose becomes the next marquis.”
This was an opportunity—one she couldn’t afford to miss. For the first time, Ricardo saw life flickering across Izuli’s face, as if her usual gloom and timidity had been nothing but an act.
“That body wasn’t originally yours, so there must be a way to return to your own. I assume you’re looking for that method. And if you’re branded a heretic, you’ll be burned at the stake just the same as I would.”
Ricardo understood why Izuli needed an heir. Melaria wanted to make Leo the heir; if that happened after he returned to his original body, Izuli would live out her days in misery. To escape this, she had to ensure the heir of her choice took over as marquis.
“…Fine. I accept.”
Izuli immediately fetched paper, and they agreed to list out their respective terms one by one. But they hit a snag right away—they couldn’t agree on who would be the primary party in the agreement.
“Naturally, I should be the one in charge.”
“I’m the one in charge.”
With their opinions at an impasse, Izuli thought of something.
“Then let’s just use names. What’s yours?”
She asked casually, though cold sweat beaded on the palm holding the paper.
“My name is…”
Ricardo started to answer on instinct, then stopped and stared at her. She’d been caught trying to find out his true identity, but she spoke confidently:
“Your name.”
“…Kal. Call me Kal.”
“You’re nothing like Kalyon, so I’ll call you Kal from now on. Thankfully, the names are similar—no one will suspect a thing.”
Even though it was clearly not his real name, Izuli didn’t seem disappointed and continued writing the contract.
The terms were simple:
- Izuli will actively assist Kal in returning to his original body.
- Kal will help the person Izuli chooses become the heir.
- Izuli will not reveal this secret to anyone. If she does, Kal may refuse to help her in return.
In truth, since they couldn’t hold tangible collateral over each other, the contract relied entirely on trust—it would only hold if they believed in one another.
Izuli looked at the contract with a subtle expression. Just yesterday, she’d never imagined Kalyon would return or that someone else was possessing his body.
“I’ll keep this for now. Sign it.”
After Ricardo signed and handed it to her, Izuli stared blankly for a moment before signing her name. She then extended her hand to him.
“Pleased to work with you, Kal.”
Looking down at her small, pale hand, Ricardo slowly reached out and shook it.
“Same here.”
“Shall we start planning our next steps?”
Izuli said, looking at his pale face.
“Let’s sit on the sofa.”
His body felt heavy with fatigue, so Ricardo didn’t refuse the offer.
“What a useless body. Was he always this weak?”
Izuli thought back to Kalyon’s physique. Though they’d never been intimate, they’d occasionally shared a bed on hot summer nights when Kalyon would strip off his clothes from the heat—unintentionally exposing his bare body to her several times. He’d had good bone structure by nature but rarely exercised, leaving him pale as tofu with only minimal muscle. It was no wonder he’d gotten sick after being out in the rain for hours.
“Yes. He was rather frail—he’d catch a cold at least once every winter.”
Ricardo looked at her in response to her answer.
“…What is it?”
She asked cautiously, noticing his gaze. He leaned back fully against the cushion and spoke:
“It’s strange. You seem familiar with this body, yet distant at the same time.”
“We weren’t on good terms, but we were married for five years regardless.”
After their marriage, Evelon had dumped all responsibility for Kalyon onto Izuli like a burden. She’d even fired his longtime nanny to save money, leaving Izuli in charge of everything from his meals to the smallest details. It was less like being his wife and more like being his nursemaid. Having lived together for five years, she’d naturally learned about him.
“Let me properly introduce myself. My full name is Izuli Mentria.”
It was the name he’d expected—the Mentria Dukedom was quite famous. They’d been loyal vassals to the former imperial dynasty but betrayed their liege to join the rebellion with the current dynasty. What’s more, it wasn’t the first emperor of the current dynasty who’d dealt with the former emperor—it was the Duke of Mentria.
That had happened 200 years ago, but the Hines Grand Duchy (descendants of the former dynasty) and the Mentria Dukedom remained bitter enemies to this day. Ricardo knew bits and pieces about the Mentria family and had even heard rumors years ago that the duke’s neglected younger daughter had married the “Foolish Lord.”
Though she bore the Mentria name, she’d been mistreated by them. For some reason, he’d never felt any animosity toward her—and now that they’d met like this, he found the situation rather odd.
“Is… something wrong?”
Izuli asked carefully, noticing the subtle change in his expression after she said her name. His reaction wasn’t clearly positive or negative, but she was uneasy—given how old the Mentria family was, they had no shortage of enemies.
“…Nothing. Just a bit unexpected.”
“It’s because of my eye color, isn’t it?”
She knew what he was referring to and relaxed, speaking calmly.
The Mentria Dukedom had a strong lineage of mages—anyone with even a drop of their blood was supposed to have golden eyes. Yet Izuli, a direct descendant, had no trace of yellow in her irises.
“This is why it happened—to me, to my parents.”
Izuli’s father, the younger brother of the current duke, had the same eye color as her and had naturally been suspected of not being a true blood relative. In the end, her grandmother (the late duchess) had committed suicide to prove her innocence, and the late duke had not cast him out as she’d requested—but he’d never treated him like a son either. That treatment had naturally been passed down to Izuli.
“Even though I have no mana, it’s true that I bear the Mentria name.”
Aura and mana were gifts only bestowed on the chosen few. What’s more, the amount one was born with could never be increased no matter how hard they tried—it was purely innate. Exceptionally, those who inherited Mentria blood were born with at least a small amount of mana.
Even Izuli, with her unusual eye color, had undergone multiple mana tests—but the result was always the same.
“I believe you. I can’t sense any mana from you.”
Izuli’s hand tensed slightly.
‘If he can sense mana, that means he can wield aura, right?’
When she’d first met him, she’d felt a killing intent—but he was clearly not a mage. Which meant only one thing: he was a Sword Master who could use aura.
There were very few Sword Masters in the empire.
Having unintentionally learned a huge clue, Izuli pretended to remain calm.
“First, do you know why Kalyon was called the Fool Prince?”
“Because he acts foolishly and is ignorant.”
“That’s right. He spent every day at gambling dens or cockfights—he never once handled family affairs. We were only able to keep the marquisate going under the dowager’s thumb because some of our retainers were competent.”
She’d known some of this from rumors before their marriage, but the reality had been far worse. In truth, Kalyon wasn’t stupid—just extremely ignorant. He could have learned if taught step by step, but Evelon had long since given up on him. Since he was the only heir, she’d let him do as he pleased, skipping his education and sending him out into the world. It was his cousin, the Count of Eden, who’d encouraged him to start frequenting gambling dens.
“The Dowager wants to make a distant relative her heir and raise them herself, while Melaria wants Leo to be the heir.”
“So they’re divided.”
“Yes—it’s a small blessing in our misfortune.”
If that cruel aunt and cousin had been of one mind, things would have been far more difficult.
“But we can’t let our guard down completely. Their first shared goal is to remove you from the position of head of the family.”
