A short while later, Ruspell and Owen gathered inside the tent.

Unlike Owen, who sat nonchalantly in a chair, Ruspell hesitated.

Looking guilty, he kept avoiding Leonhart’s gaze.

Leonhart spoke.

“Ruspell.”

“…Yeah?”

“Did you do this on purpose?”

“Do what…”

“Helping that woman put together a proposal like this. Explain what you were thinking.”

Owen looked at Ruspell in surprise.

“Professor Ruspell, did you create a proposal for the fallen sister?”

Ruspell, who had guessed the situation from the moment Leonhart called him, answered in a barely audible voice.

“That… the Duchess did it all…”

“What?”

“She came up with it on her own.”

Before the speechless Leonhart could respond, Owen asked,

“But didn’t you agree to help Her Grace?”

“All I did was explain the magic that would go into the proposal…”

“Just the magic? Nothing more?”

“Yeah…”

Tilting his head, Owen read the proposal.

With every page he turned, the admiration on his face deepened.

“The fallen sister came up with all of this by herself? That’s truly remarkable.”

“Right? I was surprised too.”

“Even so, without your explanation of the magic, this proposal could never have been completed.”

“Even if it hadn’t been me, she would’ve found another mage to explain it eventually.”

At first, the proposal had simply been too good to ignore.

He’d known that with just a little guidance, it could become something even better.

What mage could have resisted?

But that wasn’t the real reason.

The moment she burst into tears, his mind went blank.

There was someone besides Adel who would grieve this deeply over the thought of him dying.

It felt as if he had recovered a lost treasure.

When she spoke to him casually, he felt special, and his chest swelled with pride.

He took it upon himself to do things she hadn’t even asked for, racking his brain for every scrap of knowledge he had.

He even cut back on his meals and sleep to work on the proposal.

‘Even though there was absolutely no need to…’

At that point, it had never been about making the proposal better.

Everything he did had simply been for Adrianne’s sake.

But on the second day, the moment he heard those words, something inside him changed.

“Which is exactly why you look like that. Eating vegetables isn’t going to turn you into a cow, so eat a balanced diet. If you want to keep doing the magic research you love, you need the stamina to support it.”

He couldn’t have been more shocked.

He had never imagined he’d hear those words from anyone other than Adel.

“I told you I’m not eating it! If I eat that and turn into a cow, will you take responsibility?”

“…Are you really a mage? Anyone listening would think I’m feeding you poison. This is lettuce, you idiot! I’m not telling you to just eat it plain; I’m telling you to wrap the meat in it!”

“I don’t want to!!”

“You have to eat a balanced diet to build strength! Do you want to collapse during an experiment again?”

The memory remained as vivid as ever.

No matter how many times he recalled it, those moments with Adel always brought a smile to his face.

‘How did she know? That’s not something she could have heard from an expedition member…’

From that moment on, Adrianne reminded him of Adel.

Forcing him to sleep, making sure he ate….

Every action she took as she quietly checked on his condition reminded him of Adel.

Even the way her words were cold and overbearing while her eyes remained endlessly warm.

To Ruspell, Adrianne and Adel had become almost impossible to tell apart.

But he had no proof.

It was nothing more than a feeling.

That’s why he couldn’t tell anyone.

Owen and Leonhart would only assume Ruspell had fallen for her scheme.

As Ruspell stood lost in thought, Owen gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m not trying to criticize you, Professor Ruspell. Please don’t misunderstand.”

“…I hid the paper dolls. Now we can spy on the Duchess whenever we want.”

“Good. You did the right thing.”

Although he hid one in a useless guest room, he hid the other in the study, so it should be fine.

‘Somehow I feel heavy-hearted, like I’ve betrayed my friends…’

As Ruspell silently lowered his head, Leonhart finally spoke.

“Ruspell. You’re saying she really came up with all of this herself.”

“I did come up with a few devices. But I wouldn’t have even thought of them without the Duchess’s proposal. That much is certain.”

Leonhart examined the proposal again with a furrowed brow.

Having attended the Academy with Adrianne, he knew how absurd this was.

She was a woman who had proudly rejected even the assignments given by professors.

Asking who the hell they were to dare give her work.

‘And yet she’d been hiding this level of ability all along…I don’t even know what’s real anymore.’

As he coldly flipped through the proposal, he paused at the last page.

“This is…”

It was a bird’s-eye view of the Grand Plaza.

A greenhouse at its center, roads branching outward in every direction, trees lining the pathways, wooden benches tucked into quiet corners, and charming decorative sculptures placed throughout. Everything blended together beautifully.

But there was another reason he was surprised.

The overall style reminded him uncannily of the sketches Adel used to draw.

Of course, Adel had only scribbled roughly on napkins or the dirt floor, and there were differences if one looked closely.

So this, too, could simply be his imagination.

Just like the feeling he’d had that Adrianne somehow resembled Adel.

‘But…’

The strange intuition he’d felt a few days earlier in Adrianne’s bedroom resurfaced.

That he must keep her close and monitor her.

Thinking about it now, that might actually be the better option.

‘If she’s close by, it’ll be much easier to figure out what she’s really plotting.’

“Both of you will be joining the Grand Plaza project. Owen, you’ll be in charge of safety. Ruspell, you’ll oversee all magical aspects of the construction.”

“I will, Your Highness.”

“Sigh… alright.”

After assigning Ruspell and Owen to the project, Leonhart called for Ashir.

“Did you call for me, Your Highness?”

“I’m going to request an audience with His Majesty. We’re returning to the palace.”

“Do you intend to show the proposal to His Majesty?”

“It seems our Duchess is dying to get a piece of the action, so I should grant her wish.”

“…What do you mean by that, Your Highness?”

Leonhart merely smiled without answering.

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