Chapter 13
Chapter 13
Who could it be?
Rose was still packing up the office to close it down, but there was a chance the person at the door might be a potential client. Just one more case would go a long way in helping her afford the move to another city.
She quickly cast a minor illusion spell to make the chaotic office look more presentable.
Just one more. She hardened her resolve, plastered on her business smile, and opened the office door to greet her visitor.
“Yes, I’m Olga Blavatsky. Come in. How can I help you?”
With practiced ease, she changed her hair and eye color, then opened the door to find a young man of average height in a neat suit standing beside a large middle-aged man. She didn’t recognize either of them, but judging by their suits—tailored from expensive fabrics—and their polished shoes, it was clear they had money.
Internally, Rose cheered.
“Ah, let us introduce ourselves first,” the larger man said, handing her a business card. “A pleasure to meet you. I’m Robert Kings, legal advisor to the Dautryche Company.”
The younger man followed with his own card. “I’m Philip Bonard, chief secretary to the Dautryche Company.”
Dautryche Company?
What would that conglomerate want with her?
Was this for real?
Rose’s suspicion didn’t ease itself with this revelation, but she couldn’t show that to potential clients. She smiled warmly and gestured for them to sit on the consultation sofa.
“Is this about hiring a necromantic performance for a company party? Or maybe a psychic seminar?”
Kings looked slightly uncomfortable as he opened his briefcase and pulled out a folder. “Unfortunately, this isn’t about a performance, Miss Blavatsky.”
Rose narrowed her eyes as she accepted the folder.
“A non-paternity acknowledgment form…?”
The words printed on the document were so bizarre, she doubted she was reading them right.
“Ahem, please check the next page as well,” Kings said.
“…A marriage registration form?”
She couldn’t hide her bewilderment as she saw her name, Olga Blavatsky, printed on such outrageous documents.
“What is this? How dare you show such insulting paperwork to a lady—!”
“Ahem, ahem. Please, calm down, Miss Blavatsky. This isn’t meant as an insult,” Kings insisted.
“You’re saying this isn’t an insult?”
Out of nowhere, they were talking about illegitimate children and thrusting a marriage form at a respectable unmarried woman. Clearly, someone was trying to drag her name through the mud.
Who? A rival psychic agency?
As Rose stared daggers at the documents, Philip finally spoke, nervously.
“Pardon me, Miss Blavatsky, but the gentleman you met last night was…”
At that moment, an ominous feeling crawled up from the pit of her stomach and chilled her spine.
“…Mr. James Dautryche, the CEO of the Dautryche Company.”
“…What?”
“Yes. The man you spent the night with was Mr. James Dautryche.”
As an entirely unexpected name came out of Philip’s mouth, Rose’s eyes widened in shock.
She had known Jack Dillon wasn’t his real name. She’d guessed he might be from a wealthy or noble family—a typical playboy. But the head of the kingdom’s most powerful corporation?
“The CEO himself had wanted to come, but…”
Why? Why would such a powerful man want to see her?
“He’s incredibly busy, so we came on his behalf.”
And what he’d wanted to bring her in person was… these documents?
“You seem understandably shocked. Would you like to take a break before we explain the details?” Philip offered gently.
Rose’s mind was spinning.
So that high-ranking man—someone with enough power to shake the kingdom—had wanted to personally drop off a marriage form and a non-paternity agreement? Even if no one had actually thrown the documents at her, it felt that way.
She was a mere civilian. The difference in power between them was enough to make cold sweat trickle down her spine.
And yet… the contents of those documents were…
‘A non-paternity agreement and a marriage registration form?!’
Was this how he operated? Had she seriously misread him?
Was this James Dautryche the kind of clingy, obsessive man who would go this far?
No, that didn’t seem right.
Rose was overwhelmed with confusion.
‘All I did was try to save the world!’
Her sense of injustice surged, but there was no way she could vent it here.
It felt like she could hear the sound of her life spiraling into chaos—not even the gods of this world seemed inclined to reward her sacrifices to keep the world going.
That could be the only explanation for this mess: abandonment by the forces that governed everything.
While she barely managed to maintain her composure thanks to her years of acting as a necromancer, her mind was already in a state of panic.
After a long silence, she finally asked:
“So I’m supposed to either sign this… or sign the marriage form?”
“Yes, that’s correct. You can raise the child as a non-heir of the Dautryche family, or become the legal wife of Mr. Dautryche and raise the child as his heir.”
Rose blinked, struggling to grasp what she was hearing. She reread the clause in the agreement several times.
‘In the event of pregnancy, if the signer waives all claims to the child being a Dautryche heir, the Dautryche family will provide financial support including living and education expenses until the child reaches adulthood. If the signer refuses and insists on claiming the child is of Dautryche blood, the family will cease all support and pursue defamation charges.’
‘Wow. Really leaning on their money and power to play dirty, huh?’
Honestly, what did this have to do with her?
Seeing the look of disbelief on her face, Philip explained with difficulty:
“Our young master—er, the CEO—wishes to take full responsibility for what happened last night.”
He clearly didn’t understand it himself. It showed in his voice.
“Responsibility? Good grief.”
That man—the one she thought would never cling to anyone—was talking about responsibility? She couldn’t even begin to imagine his motivations.
Jack Dillon—no, James Dautryche—wasn’t supposed to be like this. That was the entire reason she’d chosen him as her first.
His absurd suggestion made Rose groan and bury her face in her hands before she finally managed a reply.
“Mr. Bonard, Mr. Kings. I’m not signing this non-paternity agreement. I can’t.”
“Ah… I see.”
‘I see’? What’s that supposed to mean?
That short answer made her blood boil. It was obvious what he wasn’t saying: “Well, of course not. Who would turn down the chance to marry the CEO of Dautryche Company?”
“…A reasonable decision,” Kings added.
Yeah right.
“Then please sign here. Mr. Dautryche has already signed—”
“That doesn’t mean I’m agreeing to the marriage.”
“Oh… so you’re not signing the marriage form?”
Kings’s hand froze midair, still holding out a pen. Philip stared at her, slack-jawed.
“There’s no reason I need to marry Mr. James Dautryche, is there?”
“Uh… well, I…”
Exactly.
Jack Dillon—James Dautryche—was, to put it bluntly, nothing more than a means to an end. He was simply part of Rose’s plan to prevent the world’s destruction.
Sure, she bore responsibility for branding him without consent, but a Mythos marrying a Logos?
There were Mythos like Rose who operated in the Logos world, but that didn’t mean they married into it. Mythos and Logos were like oil and water: fundamentally incompatible.
They could share space, but not lifestyle or ideology.
That’s why the oath of secrecy—Omertà—still bound Mythos to never reveal the existence of magic or magic users to Logos.
Even a toddler Mythos knew this basic rule.
And in a married relationship? How many Mythos could possibly keep that secret from their spouse?
Besides, Rose needed to investigate and nullify this inexplicable brand. How could she possibly do that in secret if they were married?
But even before all of that, there was a more immediate reason to refuse.
“Nothing happened between me and Mr. Dautryche. Not like that. We’re not in that kind of relationship.”
The two men’s eyes wavered in confusion.
“Haah…”
Rose sighed and added a tired explanation.
“What I mean is, there’s no way I could be pregnant.”
He’d said he was taking birth control, and she knew she was in a safe period.
So nothing had happened. As far as Rose was concerned, that was the end of it.
“Ah… I seee.”
“Ahem, yes, ahem.”
The two men began coughing and awkwardly looked away, clearly embarrassed that a young woman had to say such a thing aloud.
“We almost defamed Miss Blavatsky’s honor with these misunderstandings. Will you accept our apologies?”