HLM 09

Chapter 9

“Um… Who are you?”

At my question, the man’s already large eyes widened even further before he burst into a warm, resonant laugh.

“Hahaha, oh my… my apologies. My introduction is rather late. I am Dieter. Just Dieter.”

His introduction instantly brought a similar situation to mind.

‘What does he mean, “just Dieter”? Who introduces themselves like that?’

Was this some new greeting trend I wasn’t aware of? Was I supposed to reply with, “I am Lindsay. Just Lindsay”?

Caught up in my strange thoughts, I instinctively furrowed my brow. Finding my reaction amusing, he chuckled quietly beside me before composing himself and looking back down at me.

“I can recommend a fountain pen for you.”

“Yes, well… if you insist.”

Unable to entirely drop my guard against this suddenly familiar stranger, my reply came out sounding unintentionally curt.

Perhaps finding my blunt tone even funnier, he let out another soft laugh before turning to the manager and murmuring something.

While the two men conversed, I turned my attention to the adjacent display case, wondering if there were any other options.

That was when I saw it.

“Oh?”

Something incredibly brilliant, shimmering with iridescent colors, caught my eye.

Hearing my soft gasp of awe, Dieter, who had been speaking with the manager, quietly approached my side.

“Sea glass. Isn’t it beautiful? Everyone always says the ocean is blue, but sometimes, when I see shimmering seashells resting beneath crystal-clear water, they look like a soft, translucent green.”

“…Yes. I suppose they do.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the pen’s mesmerizing beauty.

It looked exactly like Martin’s eyes. It possessed the vibrant, expansive clarity of the ocean, swirled with the iridescent brilliance of crushed mother-of-pearl.

As I stared at it, utterly captivated, Dieter offered a subtle smile.

“You must be quite interested in fountain pens.”

“A-ah, no. Truthfully, I just use whatever is handed to me. It’s my friend who loves fountain pens. In fact, the one I’m replacing was originally his. I accidentally broke it…”

“A Meister fountain pen? Goodness, wasn’t your friend furious? The majority of Meister’s pens are limited editions; some are entirely irreplaceable once sold out.”

My face must have drained of all color at his words, because Dieter just offered a casual shrug in response.

I was standing there, panicking internally over what to do, when the manager suddenly called out to me, drawing my attention back.

“Excuse me, Lady Lindsay. Would you require our engraving service for this piece?”

“How long will it take? I’m quite pressed for time…”

“If you prefer a simple stamping method rather than a deep carving, it can be done immediately. However, the drawback is that the engraving will not last as long.”

I pondered for a moment before nodding. Even if it faded eventually, I thought Martin would appreciate having his name on it.

“The stamping method is fine. Please go ahead.”

“And the esteemed name…?”

“Martin. M-A-R-T-I-N.”

Right then—

“Wait a moment, what did you just say?”

With a smooth but surprisingly swift motion, Dieter turned me to face him. Unable to hide his blatant astonishment, he asked again.

“Lady Lindsay. Who did you just say it was for?”

“M-Martin… Just… Martin…”

“That boy is ‘just Martin.’ Which means our Lady Lindsay here…”

The man let out an amused, disbelieving laugh. Then, gazing at me intensely with those emerald-green eyes—eyes that were identical to Martin’s—he carefully inspected my appearance once more, tilting his head slightly.

“Ah, no wonder… It all makes perfect sense now. Black hair and crimson eyes. A child from a family prestigious enough to attend the Imperial-run Saint Garten Academy… Of course you’re the daughter of the Rietberg Marquisate.”

The sudden, interrogative shift in the atmosphere made me furrow my brow in displeasure.

Who is this guy, and why is he suddenly so deeply invested in me and Martin?

Judging by the aura he exuded, he clearly wasn’t an ordinary civilian.

I slowly opened my mouth and spoke clearly.

“Yes, that’s correct. I am Lindsay Rietberg of the Rietberg Marquisate. But who are you to pry into my affairs without even revealing your own family name…!”

“The engraving is complete, Lady Lindsay.”

At that exact moment, I made eye contact with the manager, who was stepping out from the back room holding the finished fountain pen.

Sensing the heavy, unusual tension in the air, the manager’s eyes widened drastically as he looked back and forth between me and Dieter.

“Um… perhaps I should have brought this out a little later.”

“Not at all.”

Acting as if the pen belonged to him, Dieter smoothly plucked it from the manager’s hands and looked down at me.

“How about we move to a different location, Lady Lindsay?”

Seeing his sly, confident smirk, I deepened my scowl but ultimately followed him out.

‘What exactly is this situation?’

I kept shooting sideways glances at Dieter, who was sitting across from me in complete silence, an infuriatingly serene smile resting on his lips.

“Please, drink.”

He smoothly slid a steaming cup of black tea across the table toward me. Do you really think I can drink this right now?

When I offered him a tight, strained smile in return, the corners of Dieter’s mouth lifted exactly one millimeter higher in amusement.

‘The time…’

Pretending to casually look around, I scoured the private café room for a clock.

“It is two o’clock. I must admit, this is the first time someone has desperately searched for a clock while sitting across from me.”

I startled visibly at his words, causing Dieter to chuckle softly, shrug, and take a sip of his tea. Setting his teacup down with quiet, practiced elegance, he finally spoke.

“You’re curious, aren’t you? As to why I asked you to join me for tea.”

“…I am still only sixteen years old.”

Dieter burst into genuine, unrestrained laughter at my deadpan remark. It was a blessing we were in a private room; otherwise, every patron in the café would have been staring at us.

“Lady Lindsay, I assure you, I am not a scoundrel. You needn’t worry. I have absolutely zero intention of laying a finger on you.”

“Then why on earth…”

As my voice trailed off, Dieter offered a relaxed shrug and began his explanation.

“First and foremost, I am a friend of Martin’s. I’m sure you are incredibly curious as to exactly who I am, but I cannot reveal that to you just yet.”

Dieter fixed me with a profound, unreadable gaze. Feeling distinctly as if I were being evaluated and suspected, my mood soured further.

Unbothered by my obvious displeasure, Dieter continued.

“Martin and I regularly exchange letters to check in on each other. This week, we exchanged a total of two letters. And upon reading his recent letter, I felt something was… amiss.”

He took another slow sip of tea, his eyes never leaving mine. I inadvertently shuddered under his gaze. Those eyes, which had seemed so warm and gentle just moments ago, were now glinting with a cold, sharp intensity.

“To begin with, the letter stated that Martin had made a friend. As you likely know, Martin is…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, but I knew exactly what he was implying.

It was something I would never dare say directly to Martin, but for some reason, sitting across from this man, I felt compelled to say it out loud. I opened my mouth cautiously.

“Whatever you’re implying, none of that is an issue when it comes to Martin and me being friends.”

Perhaps surprised by my sudden interjection, Dieter’s eyebrow twitched. Intrigued by what I was going to say, he set down his teacup and casually crossed his legs.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean exactly what I said. Whatever struggles Martin faces, they have absolutely no bearing on our friendship. I like Martin. He is incredibly kind, and he is the purest, sweetest friend I have ever met.”

Thinking back on the past week I had spent with Martin, I continued firmly.

“Martin is overly harsh on himself, yet he is infinitely generous to his friends. I know it isn’t my place to aggressively insert myself into his affairs, but I fully intend to help him become more forgiving of himself.”

Meeting Dieter’s intense gaze head-on, I continued, my voice trembling slightly as I recalled the sincere emotions I had poured into my letter last night.

“I feel the exact same way you do. I deeply cherish Martin. And I want to be a true friend to him.”

When I finished speaking, Dieter stared at me in profound silence. A heavy stillness fell over the room, stretching one minute into what felt like an hour.

He seemed to be carefully weighing my words. Not wanting to interrupt his train of thought, I waited patiently.

“…It appears I have made a grave mistake regarding you, Lady Lindsay. I had heard he was struggling at the academy without a single friend to rely on, so I was deeply concerned. The sudden news that he had made a friend… it was simply very unfamiliar to me.”

Unlike his earlier, imposing demeanor, Dieter offered a polite bow and a sincere apology. Then, with a warm, gentle smile, he extended a hand toward me.

“I have taken up far too much of your precious time. Allow me to escort you back to your carriage.”