Claire, an ordinary but lovely lady who works in a small bakery.

One day, she picks up a purple necklace that has fallen on the road.

She didn’t even think to find its owner because it looked old at first glance, but Claire says she regrets the day over and over again.

The owner of her necklace was none other than Clive, the young master of Count of Norton and magistrate of Studehill.

“Take that woman’s personal information. It could be theft.”

She was going to die of unfairness because she was accused of being a thief, and she was scared to death of that overly handsome man.

Fortunately, she was cleared of the charge, but Clive, who continued to hover around her for some reason, was still difficult for her.

“Are you going to buy flowers?”

“No, it’s just a look.”

“Should I buy it for you?”

“… Why?”

“You’re pretty.”

Is this how aristocratic speech is supposed to be?

I’ve met an aristocrat in my life, but how do I deal with this very aristocratic man?

Besides, why are you stopping by the bakery all the time?

Whenever she encountered Clive, Claire’s mind filled with question marks.

And she had another question that filled her head.

Who the hell is the culprit in the mu*der in the town?

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