Devourer's Legacy: I Regressed With The Primordial Crest-Chapter 54: Talk with fiancée (2)

Renard was guided to a lavish reception room. As he walked, he looked around with clear appreciation for the opulent surroundings.

’Wow, the Grace family is definitely wealthy! I’m glad I came here. Looks like I’ll be able to secure substantial funding for my investments.’

Gia’s Castle was beautifully adorned with expensive materials—completely unlike the rough and rugged fortress of Taira, where every last coin was poured into strengthening the walls against the Great Green Forest.

Renard was told to wait in the room alone as the knights who had guided him departed.

’She’s late. Considering what I said, I thought she would come running to question me, but it seems like she’s thinking carefully about this.’

He was served tea, so he stopped complaining about the wait. Even so, Eleanor took her own sweet time to appear.

After he finished his tea, he continued waiting, eventually growing bored. But thankfully, the door to the reception room opened and a woman entered.

Bright red hair cascaded gracefully over her shoulders. Her slightly lowered eyes and raised chin gave off an impression of aristocratic coldness.

This was Renard’s fiancée, Eleanor Grace!

She was three years older than him, but it was normal among the nobles to marry older women, so there really wasn’t a problem with their age difference.

A small creature was perched on her shoulder—what appeared to be a black cat, the kind often considered a bad omen by superstitious people. But it wasn’t actually a cat at all. It was a spirit!

And much like its contractor, the spirit excluded an air of elegance and pride with every step Eleanor took.

"It’s been a while, Eleanor. Did you miss me? Oh, and how are you... what was your spirit’s name again?" he said, looking at the cat-like spirit while greeting Eleanor.

But Eleanor only raised an eyebrow, not bothering to reply.

’Who does he think he is? Calling me by my first name? Missing him? This fool must have lost his mind!’

When Eleanor first heard that Renard had arrived, she had scoffed and told the guards to send him away. There was no need to meet someone who had come unannounced, especially someone as disappointing as Renard.

She had absolutely no intention of seeing him. However, after hearing the message Renard had sent, she had no choice but to let him into the castle.

’What exactly does he know?’

The fact that Eleanor was building a merchant guild was a tightly guarded secret. This wasn’t a matter of starting a simple trading company—it was far more significant than that.

Unaware of her thoughts, Renard flashed a bright smile and continued speaking.

"Here, I picked up a gift on my way!" He handed over the bouquet of flowers he had brought.

Eleanor looked at Renard from head to toe, noting how he was covered in dust. ’Did he really bring this as a gift to me?’

In all her life, she had never received a present so worthless. No one had ever dared to offer her something so cheap. Although she wasn’t the type to care about the monetary value of gifts, the fact that Renard had presented such a thing was unbearable.

"Nyaang!" Even the spirit, whose name Renard still didn’t remember, let out a displeased sound as if to express its shared disappointment.

Despite her thoughts, Eleanor walked gracefully and took the bouquet from Renard’s hand.

"Thank you. It’s a lovely bouquet. However, flowers like these wilt so quickly—there’s no need for me to keep them, is there?"

She then tossed the bouquet into a corner of the reception room.

It was an act designed to humiliate the giver. For members of House Grim, who valued their honor above all else, such behavior would be considered unacceptable under normal circumstances.

She had done so openly to provoke Renard into an emotional response, hoping to make him act rashly.

However, instead of getting angry, Renard merely shrugged and leaned back on the sofa without a care in the world.

"Well, I don’t have much money on me, so that’s all I could afford! But hey, it’s the thought that counts! The thought!"

With an unwavering expression, Renard played innocent, and Eleanor blinked as if she had seen a ghost.

’Has he gone completely mad?’

Then a cold smirk appeared on her face.

"Even if you are poor, that’s not something to be proud of, is it? Don’t you feel ashamed? If you want to express your feelings, the gift’s value matters too. You can’t express sincerity with garbage."

Eleanor spat out harsh words, aiming to provoke him again. It was behavior unimaginable for her, given her usually reserved nature and the fact that she never bothered engaging with someone like this.

But she needed to shake him up to gauge what he knew and how much he knew about her secrets.

"Being poor isn’t something to be ashamed of. There’s a quote I heard once: ’Being born poor is not a sin, but dying poor is.’ I don’t plan to die anytime soon, and I’ll be filthy rich by that time, so don’t worry."

He said, "There’s no shame in having empty pockets. In fact, the ones who should be ashamed are those who are dishonest. Don’t you think so?"

His words carried a deeper meaning, and Eleanor’s face stiffened.

Renard’s tone and behavior suggested he was boldly declaring that he knew something significant.

’He’s different from before. He’s never shown such confidence—what happened to him?’

She had heard that he had faced numerous assassination attempts. People did say that individuals changed when faced with death, but could the transformation be this drastic?

Until recently, he had practically been trying to woo her in every way whenever he stood before her, but she couldn’t sense any such feelings from him now. Instead, it seemed like he didn’t even care about her opinion.

The sudden change made her more wary of him.

"Fine. What’s the reason you wanted to meet? I’d appreciate it if you got straight to the point."

"I like how direct you are. I need some money. I’m in a bit of a tough spot right now."

Renard winked and made a circle with his fingers in a gesture indicating money.

Eleanor’s face briefly froze at the unexpected request.

Who in the world would ask for money so boldly and shamelessly!

"Ha! Is that why you came to see me? Asking your fiancée for money—do you have no pride, my lord?"

Renard smiled awkwardly and waved his hand dismissively.

"No, no, you misunderstood. I’m not asking to borrow money."

"Then what?"

Renard leaned in slightly, bringing his face closer to Eleanor’s, and whispered conspiratorially.

"I’m asking you to just give it to me. Between us, you could do at least that much, right?"

"..."

Eleanor stared at him in complete silence, her mind reeling from the sheer audacity of his request.

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