Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent

Margrave Ricca Barren agreed to take Kyle and Silvy back to her estate now that she had formally hired them.

After giving them a graceful nod, she excused herself, saying she would return within the hour to fetch them.

Kyle gave a quiet nod in return and watched her leave the inn, her steps refined and dignified—even if she still seemed a little unsteady, as though her body hadn't yet caught up to her regained freedom.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Kyle casually signaled the innkeeper and footed the bill for her breakfast without a second thought.

'Well, let's hope that this investment pays off. I have a feeling that the Margrave will be a lot more useful to me than I expect her to be.'

Silvy, however, was not so quick to let it slide. She grabbed Kyle's arm and leaned in, whispering with narrowed eyes.

"You don't actually believe her, right? That she's the Margrave? She's way too suspicious."

Kyle smiled lightly and shook his head.

"Of course she's suspicious. That's exactly why I agreed to her offer."

Silvy blinked.

"You did?"

"I want to investigate her. But for that, I need to be closer to her. Keep an eye on her in her own environment. Her sudden appearance, her mana signature vanishing overnight… It's all too convenient."

Kyle explained, glancing out the window.

Silvy slowly nodded, her expression becoming serious with realization.

"So that's why you agreed to work with her… You should've just told me that from the start. And here I thought you were interested in her."

Then, her frown melted into a smug little smile.

Kyle glanced at her sideways.

"You jumped to that conclusion all on your own."

Silvy turned away, clearly choosing to ignore that comment.

Time passed slowly after that.

The hour dragged on, the inn's common room growing quieter as morning turned to midday.

Kyle sat with his arms crossed, deep in thought, while Silvy tapped her foot impatiently.

Eventually, she asked.

"How long are we going to wait?"

Kyle glanced at the clock.

"Ten more minutes. If she doesn't show up by then, we'll go looking for her."

Silvy sighed but nodded.

"Let's hope she doesn't run off again. I still don't trust her."

As if on cue, just before the ten-minute mark passed, the sound of wheels rolling against cobblestone echoed outside the inn.

Kyle looked up as the door swung open.

Ricca had returned.

But this time, she was dressed in far more formal attire.

A deep emerald gown flowed behind her, embroidered with the crest of the local territory. Her posture was straighter, her chin slightly raised.

She looked every bit the noblewoman she claimed to be. Behind her stood a modest but polished carriage, a pair of horses hitched and waiting.

"My apologies. It took longer than expected to prepare the carriage. I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."

Ricca said gracefully.

Kyle stood up, offering a polite nod, but before he could move toward the carriage, Ricca extended her hand toward him, a gesture of invitation—and perhaps, subtle authority.

Before Kyle could take it, Silvy swiftly stepped forward with a sunny smile that didn't reach her eyes and grabbed Ricca's hand first.

"Thank you, Margrave. How very kind of you."

She said sweetly, hoisting herself up into the carriage.

Ricca's expression twitched for a fraction of a second. Her smile faltered as Silvy settled into the seat, all but claiming her space beside Kyle with practiced grace.

Kyle couldn't help but suppress a small chuckle as he followed them in, taking the seat across from both women.

Queen landed lightly beside the window, folding its wings neatly as it watched everything in silence.

Ricca smoothed her skirt and cleared her throat.

"Shall we go?"

"Lead the way, Margrave.,"

Kyle said, settling back and keeping his tone perfectly polite. But his thoughts remained sharp.

The carriage ride was, without a doubt, one of the longest Kyle had ever endured.

Ricca and Silvy sat on either side of him, their faces painted with smiles that didn't reach their eyes.

What began as a polite exchange of words quickly turned into a barely veiled battle of ego. Each sentence was dipped in honey and edged with steel.

"I must say, you're quite lucky to have such a... attentive fiancée, Sir Kyle.""

Ricca commented with a composed smile.

Silvy, equally poised, returned the smile.

"He is lucky, isn't he? Though I do sometimes worry about all the attention he receives from strange women who appear in his bed out of nowhere."

Ricca's smile twitched slightly.

"A very valid concern. But noble duties can be unpredictable. I do hope you'll come to understand that in time."

Kyle sat in the middle of this verbal warfare, spine stiff and heart filled with regret.

As the air thickened with hostility disguised as courtesy, Queen let out a small, irritated caw and took off through the carriage window, flying into the open sky above them.

"Traitor."

Kyle muttered under his breath as he watched it disappear from view.

He leaned back and stared out of the window, desperate to ignore the emotional battlefield beside him.

Kyle could feel eyes boring into his back—one pair full of suspicion, the other of smug satisfaction.

He sighed quietly, cursing his weakness for getting caught up in situations like this, especially those born from the pride of strong-willed women.

Eventually, the carriage rolled to a smooth stop in front of the Margrave's mansion.

The estate was large and well-maintained, an elegant blend of modest nobility and rural command.

The carriage door opened, and Ricca gestured for her guests to exit first.

Kyle made a move to step out and offer his hand to the Margrave, as noble etiquette dictated.

But before he could reach out, Silvy beat him to it. She smiled brightly and extended her own hand instead.

"It's fine. I'll help her down in place of my fiancé."

She said, her tone light and pointed.

Ricca froze.

A light shade of red bloomed across her cheeks as she awkwardly accepted the hand. The tension between the two women crackled like fire.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to create any discomfort. Might I ask how long the two of you have been engaged? And what ceremony you used to make it official?"

Ricca said, regaining her composure.

Silvy blinked.

"Ceremony?"

Then, completely unbothered, she added.

"There wasn't one. Kyle is my fiancé because we slept in the same bed. We slept together, so he's responsible for me now."

Kyle, halfway down the carriage steps, stopped mid-step and covered his face with one hand.

This again.

He didn't say a word.

Ricca looked at him, noting his pained silence.

Then she looked at Silvy again—the young elf's sincere expression, her complete lack of guile, and her proud declaration. It clicked.

She let out a breath and smiled knowingly.

"I see. You're quite... devoted. I imagine there's a bit of a misunderstanding at play here."

She turned toward Silvy and gave her a motherly smile.

"Why don't you come with me for a bit? There are things you might find useful to learn."

The Margrave handed Silvy a few books to read and Silvy took them with a hesitant expression on her face.