An Heir's Solitary Youth
After coming to the mansion, something new had been added to Sua’s daily routine: visiting the greenhouse. Bored with having nothing to do, she would slip away each morning, afternoon, and evening to pray among the flowers.
Because of it, Tezman had seriously considered tearing the greenhouse down again, only to be stopped by Cact’s vehement protests.
Today was no different. The moment he sat down to work, Sua promptly left the study and headed straight for the conservatory. Knowing exactly where she had gone, Tezman ordered Cact to stay by her side.
It was his mansion, after all; no one could possibly harm her here. Still, he could only concentrate once he knew someone was watching over her.
She was humming softly, polishing the wooden cross that hung from a branch, when Cact spoke.
“Please consider Lord Tezman. His jealousy grows worse by the day.”
Sua turned to him with an innocent expression. “Why?”
Why, indeed. Cact let out a small sigh, thinking how much more dangerous pure ignorance could be than deliberate malice.
“You spend every day in the greenhouse. Last time, Lord Tezman even muttered that he regretted not building a chapel inside the study instead.”
“It isn’t only because it’s a chapel that I like it.”
What she truly cherished was the heart with which Tezman had created this place for her. Of course, she also loved the little chapel that felt like her own private garden, overflowing with grass and blossoms after the greenhouse’s renovation.
Watching her hands move again, carefully tidying the area around the cross, Cact continued.
“He said you may decorate the greenhouse however you wish. If there is anything you desire, please tell me.”
“Oh, I can really add more?”
“Naturally.”
If she wanted it, Tezman would give her anything.
“Um… Cact.”
Sua hesitated a moment before the words finally left her lips.
“Have you been with Tezman since he was a child?”
“Hm, you could say so. Lord Tezman came to this mansion when he was twelve.”
“Twelve?”
“Yes. I have been his secretary since he was that age.”
Would a twelve-year-old even need a secretary? As the question formed in Sua’s mind, Cact seemed to read her thoughts.
“Lord Tezman has lived alone in this mansion since he was twelve.”
“In this enormous mansion… all by himself?”
The Pavard Family believed in early independence. Matteo had followed the custom, and so had Tezman—though their paths had been entirely different. Matteo entered a prestigious English boarding school, while Tezman accepted one of Michele’s unused estates and struck out on his own.
When Michele suggested boarding school, Tezman had refused outright. Through homeschooling he finished his studies even faster than Matteo. In his remaining time he trained in martial arts, boxing, and marksmanship. He would occasionally spar with capos and soldiers, fighting bare-handed under the pretense of practice.
Recalling those days with Tezman, Cact gave a quiet nod.
“…Still, twelve is far too young.”
Sua thought back to her own twelfth year—the days she had trailed after Sister Agnes like a shadow, desperate for even a scrap of attention. She remembered vaguely thinking that if she became a nun, she could remain by the older woman’s side forever.
“He must have been so lonely…”
She imagined Tezman, alone in this vast mansion, must have felt even more isolated than she had.
“He was. Yet he never showed it. Not once.”
Seeing Sua’s expression darken, Cact smiled gently.
“Don’t worry. He is lonelier now than he was then—because you spend all day out here.”
At his half-joking truth, Sua’s face finally softened.
“Then I should go to him. To comfort him.”
Who else would dare speak of “comforting” Tezman? Only Sua. To Cact, who had served at the man’s side for years, the sight was nothing short of miraculous.
Now that he thought about it, Tezman had grown far gentler since meeting her. The man who once walked with a blade’s edge, ready to kill anyone who displeased him, now paused to think twice. A snake that no one believed could be tamed—yet Sua had done it.
By the time they reached the greenhouse entrance, Sua turned to Cact.
“Let’s go quickly.”
“As you wish.”
The two walked side by side back toward the mansion, conversation flowing easily. Sua asked about Tezman’s childhood, and Cact answered each question in turn.
That was when it happened.
“Cact.”
A voice sharp as a knife sliced between them. Both Cact and Sua turned at once. Leroy and Duhan were approaching from behind. Sua spotted Leroy first and greeted him warmly.
“Oh, Leroy. Good morning.”
“A fine morning to you, Sua.”
After exchanging pleasantries with Leroy, Sua turned to greet the man beside him. She did her best to ignore Duhan’s contemptuous stare and offered a polite hello. She had never expected everyone to look upon her kindly.
“Hello.”
Only a frigid glare answered her. Cact shot Duhan a warning look, but the man ignored it. Embarrassed, Sua quickly looked away. Leroy spoke to ease the tension.
“Sua, are you on your way to see Lord Tezman?”
“Ah, yes.”
“Then let us go together. We were heading there ourselves.”
“Alright.”
Though Duhan’s murderous gaze weighed on her, Sua chose to ignore it.
The four of them made their way to the study. Unlike Leroy and Cact, Duhan was visibly reluctant. He despised the very idea of Sua being part of their group.
If he had his way, he would snap that fragile neck without hesitation—but he could not. This was Tezman’s mansion. Swallowing his seething rage, Duhan followed behind them.
Sua opened the study door and stepped inside first. Leroy, Cact, and Duhan entered after her, yet Tezman’s eyes seemed to see only her.
“Sua.”
In a voice so tender that neither Leroy nor Duhan had ever heard it before, he called her name and moved to pull her into his arms. Sua glanced at the men behind her and gently pushed him back.
“Ah, I’m a little sweaty… Let me wash up first!”
“Sua.”
“You look busy. Finish your work and I’ll see you later.”
She slipped into the bedroom and locked the door behind her—a clear signal to stay out. The idea that he could not enter his own bedroom at will was absurd, yet a smile still rose to his lips.
“Lord Tezman.”
At Duhan’s voice, Tezman’s gaze left the bedroom door. Left with no choice, he remained in the study and worked alongside Leroy and Duhan. He returned to his seat. The moment he sat down, his voice dropped, heavy and cold, addressing all three men.
“Report.”
The warmth that had filled his eyes while looking at Sua had frozen solid, as icy as his tone. This was the real Tezman—the one who existed when she was not present.
“I will begin.”
Duhan stepped forward. A lengthy report followed as he detailed the matters he had handled in Hong Kong. When he finished, Leroy and Cact each presented their own updates. Tezman listened in silence, then assigned each man a new task.
Deciding the meeting had reached its natural end, Tezman rose from his chair.
“That will be all.”
His gaze shifted from the three men to the bedroom where Sua waited.
“Leave.”
Cact and Leroy offered respectful bows before departing. Duhan, however, remained. As Tezman moved toward the bedroom, Duhan stopped him.
“Lord Tezman.”
Tezman turned his head in silence, fixing him with a piercing stare. Duhan continued.
“That woman… I mean, the sister.”
“Sua.”
“Pardon?”
“Her name is Sua. Not ‘that woman.’”
The warning in his murmured words made Duhan draw a sharp breath. Hostility had slipped out before he could stop it. He corrected himself at once.
“Yes. Sua.”
“Ah. I don’t like that.”
Duhan stiffened. He wasn’t sure what exactly displeased his master. Had the term “that woman” angered him? If Tezman was truly furious, Duhan’s neck could be snapped by his lord’s own hand.
“Everyone calls her Sua, so…”
Everyone called her Sua? So the issue wasn’t that he had dared refer to Tezman’s woman so dismissively? The realization made his own tension feel ridiculous. Precisely because of that, he had to press the matter.
“Lord Tezman… are you serious?”
“About what?”
Tezman’s calm demeanor made Duhan’s blood boil. Knowing he could not show emotion before his master, Duhan clenched his jaw until it ached. Keeping his face carefully blank, he asked again.
“I am asking whether you intend to marry that wom—… whether you intend to marry Sua.”
Duhan could only pray that Tezman would not give the answer he feared most.