Find the One Who Abandoned Me - Chapter 77

Otis glanced at Jack, who was fast asleep on the bench with a blanket draped over him, and couldn’t hide his look of distaste. Was it the family that was this relaxed—or just Calliope herself as the master?

As he shook his head with a sigh, Calliope chuckled.

“He’s like a bear in hibernation except now he does it year-round.”

“I see. I’d rather not hear more. This way, please.”

“Coming~.”

Otis gave Calliope a brief tour of the areas accessible to guests: the library, the flower gardens, the glass greenhouse, and the grand hall. Calliope followed along, nodding now and then and smiling when their eyes met. Every time she smiled, Otis felt an odd discomfort in his chest and found himself looking away.

At one point, his gaze dropped to her hands. They were smooth, without any trace of injury. Of course, the Marquess’ household must’ve called in a proper healer.

As Calliope admired the drapery in the hall, Otis cautiously asked,
“Is your hand… alright now?”

“Oh,”

She raised her hand and gave a little wave, as if offering a polite gesture.

“Perfectly fine. The Anastas house isn’t exactly poor, you know.”

“I didn’t think it was.”

“You’re worried, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am.”

“How kind of you. But Lord Glayderth, I actually feel lucky the damage was so minor. Looking back, it really was a dangerous situation—even if I didn’t realize it in the moment.”

“It was.”

“So don’t feel sorry. Just be thankful, and be glad it turned out this way.”

“That almost sounded like you’re asking me to convince my father to reward you properly.”

“Oh no, I’ve been caught.”

Otis stared at her again. That ever-calculating smile. She always managed to tease him, never making a single move that left her at a loss. And yet—when he’d been in danger, it was she who’d come running and stood between him and death, tearing her palm open in the process.

Calliope, unaware of his thoughts—or perhaps simply indifferent—spun lightly and began walking again.

“Well then, shall we head back to the garden? I should wake Jack before he sinks into a coma.”

“Yes….”

Otis pressed a hand to his chest. It felt tight again. Maybe he hadn’t fully recovered. Being around her was making his heart beat strangely fast. Perhaps he should see the healer again today.

After waking Jack, the three of them passed the time in the library until dinner was announced. When they entered the dining hall, the long table was lined with an impressive spread—grilled poultry of every kind, just as Calliope had mentioned she liked.

“Wow.”

Calliope, unfazed by the display, sat with a proud look that said, this is the bare minimum I expected. Otis shook his head while Duke Glenn burst into laughter.

“No matter how many times I see it, your nerves are truly something else.”

“Well, if I didn’t have nerves of steel, the Anastas house would’ve crumbled a long time ago.”

“Fair point.”

“By the way, where is the Duchess this evening?”

“She had an engagement she couldn’t miss, and left with some regret. She’s very grateful to you. I believe she plans to send a gift later.”

“Please let her know I’ll receive it with thanks.”

“You’re not even going to pretend to be modest, are you?”

“Should I?”

“No, no. Taking it as given is charming in its own way.”

“I hope you get a daughter-in-law just like that someday.”

Calliope meant it as a warning—to stop teasing her—but Glenn only grinned slyly and propped one elbow on the table, gazing directly at her.

“I plan to.”

Calliope responded with a dramatic grimace, clearly unimpressed, while Otis remained seated quietly, offering no comment. Oddly enough, he didn’t feel like pushing back. Assuming his son would just ignore the flirting, Glenn lightly tapped his glass to signal the start of the meal.

“I wanted it to feel like a proper banquet. A party just for you.”

“Father, you’re making it look like you’re trying to seduce Lady Anastas.”

“My son, are you insane? Don’t let your mother hear that.”

“So, please refrain from saying strange things throughout dinner,” Otis said firmly.

“I agree with the young lord,” Calliope added without hesitation.

The three of them began their meal. As Calliope tasted the array of dishes, a small smile appeared on her lips. The chefs of House Anastas were certainly skilled, but the reputation of House Glayderth’s kitchen was no exaggeration—every bite melted delicately in her mouth. She’d heard the Duchess was a renowned gourmet, and now she understood why.

Otis occasionally glanced at Calliope, only managing to focus on his meal when she smiled. Glenn, catching on to his son’s reaction, kept eating as if nothing had happened, but let out a quiet “Oh-ho,” clearly amused.

After the meal was well underway, Glenn finally spoke.

“Now, we should talk about your reward.”

“I’ve been waiting for this,” Calliope replied, dabbing her lips with a napkin and setting down her utensils. She was more than full at this point.

“As far as I can tell, you don’t need anything at the moment. Am I right?”

“That’s quite the insight. I see your Grace’s reputation for perception is well earned.”

“No need for flattery. Your business ventures don’t seem to need my help, and your social standing—well, you’re doing fine on your own.”

“True enough.”

Calliope rested her elbows on the table, laced her fingers together, and propped her chin on top.

“So then, what sort of reward will you offer me, Your Grace?”

Her red eyes gleamed—not sharp like stars, but soft like moonlight. A calm, cool gaze that reminded Glenn of a predator in repose. He chuckled quietly, thinking to himself that she was far too valuable to end up in someone else’s household.

“Once—just once—in the future, whatever you ask of me, I’ll do it. No questions asked.”

To many, that would be an extraordinary gift: a favor owed by House Glayderth, without conditions. But Calliope didn’t look satisfied.

“Three times.”

Glenn’s brow twitched.

“One.”

“Three.”

“One.”

“You’re really putting your son’s life on the line for a single favor?”

“…Two.”

“Deal.”

Calliope sat up straight and leaned comfortably against the chair. Truthfully, saving the only heir of House Glayderth for a mere one favor would’ve been laughable.

Sure, if she had asked for “a country,” Glenn probably could have bought her one. But Calliope had no need for a kingdom. What she needed was flexibility—and so, how many times she could call on him was what truly mattered.

“Well then,” Glenn said with a sigh, “I can’t argue with that logic.”

“But I’m right, aren’t I?”

“You are. I still think you’d make a great daughter-in-law, though.”

“I told you, I’m already engaged.”

“I know. You adore him. And for an engagement of political convenience, it certainly doesn’t feel like one.”

“There are circumstances, sure. But I love him, and he loves me. This engagement won’t be broken, so let’s stop dreaming the impossible. The end.”

Calliope rose from her seat. Dinner was over, the obligations fulfilled—there was no reason to linger. Glenn didn’t mind the abruptness; in fact, he found it rather endearing.

“Otis, go see her off.”

“Yes, Father.”

He was already halfway to his feet. Glenn, watching the two of them go, felt oddly pleased. As if… this wish of his wasn’t quite so one-sided anymore.

As they walked through the corridor, Calliope said,

“You should keep your father in check.”

“That’s quite the indirect way of asking me to tell him to stop bringing up our engagement.”

“You don’t find it annoying? Political marriage or not, those kinds of rumors don’t benefit you.”

“You have a point…”

When they reached the mansion’s front entrance, Calliope offered her hand as she prepared to board the carriage waiting for her. Otis stared at her hand for a moment, then took it gently. She let him help her up, but he didn’t release her hand right away.

“Lord Glayderth?”

“…You’re the kind of person who baffles and frustrates others—but I’m truly grateful this time.”

Calliope looked at him. There was a small smile at the corners of her eyes.

“No need for more thank you’s. I’ve already gotten what I came for.”

“Officially, sure—but I haven’t personally given you anything.”

“Got something more to offer? I’ll take it.”

At her light-hearted reply, Otis gave a soft, amused laugh. Then, without warning, he raised her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“One day, when you find yourself in trouble, I’ll return the favor.”

With that, he let go and closed the carriage door.

Calliope stood still for a moment, tilting her head slightly before settling into her seat and giving the signal to depart. It wasn’t a particularly significant moment for her.

And just like that, this month’s drama finally came to a close or so she thought.

Because the biggest event of all was still ahead: planning her own birthday party.

Kirke had already insisted that Calliope shouldn’t bother with it herself and offered to handle the whole thing. But knowing how busy Kirke already was, Calliope politely refused.

“It’s something I’ve always wanted to try. Please don’t worry about it.”

“You’re always capable, but lately you’re taking on so much.”

“And that’s coming from the Marchioness herself?”

When Calliope raised her eyebrows in mock innocence, Kirke couldn’t help but fall silent.

In truth, preparing the guest list, setting the budget, and organizing everything was more play than work to Calliope. It gave her an excuse to send letters to people and places she’d always been curious about.

Though she wasn’t a frequent figure at social events, being the daughter of a powerful Marquess, the fiancée of the youngest sword master to be, and beautiful and competent in her own right, her name was at an all-time high in society. It was unlikely anyone would turn her down.

If anything, people were already sending gifts early, hoping to be invited.

Indeed, as soon as the invitation process began, nobles trying to cozy up to House Anastas began sending presents one by one. Whether they were invited or not, Calliope collected every gift without hesitation and tucked them away into her personal vault.

“Let’s make this party big, very big.”

“…I wasn’t planning on making it that big.”

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