Chapter 101
Black ribbons fluttered from every corner of Mereloff Street, a somber tribute to the late count. Though the official word was that he’d been killed by a slave, the mood was less mournful and more uneasy.
“I’ve never heard of a nobleman getting stabbed to death by his own slave. What on earth happened?”
“I heard the count was about to beat the lady of the house, and the slave tried to stop him. That’s when things went south.”
“Wait, hold on. The count beating the lady? Wasn’t he the type to dote on her like she was made of glass? I thought they lived like that, all wrapped up in each other.”
“That’s why no one really knows what goes on behind closed doors in a marriage.”
“But what about the slave? Did he die too?”
“Judging by the lack of any public execution, I’d say he was summarily judged and put down. Crazy bastard. How could he kill his master?”
“Here’s a rumor going around: the lady and that slave were… involved.”
“Ha! That’s a good one.”
“No, seriously! A friend of a friend who works at the estate said so. Otherwise, why would the slave protect the lady?”
“That friend of a friend, huh? Well, even the emperor has friends.”
Groups gathered in threes and fives, always circling back to talk about the dead count, his wife, and the slave Clark. With no official word from the estate, speculation was all they had.
Lady Rien lay motionless in her darkened bedroom, trapped in a day that refused to move. The weight of helplessness and loss pinned her down, making even the smallest movement impossible.
“Madam, shall I bring you some food?”
“No, that won’t be necessary.”
“You skipped dinner last night as well.”
“…Butler, isn’t this strange?”
Sarmon turned his head at her question. She rested her chin on her hand, staring blankly into the void. Strange, indeed. He dared not deny it. After all, she was the one who had taken full control of Mereloff following the death of the three knights and Dive’s imprisonment.
Yet…
“Rather than strange, you don’t look happy.”
At Sarmon’s words, Lady Rien gave a faint smile.
Yes. That was exactly what felt strange. Her husband, who had beaten her day in and day out, was dead—and yet she didn’t feel relief. It was the same hollow feeling she’d had when her own mother had cut her down and fled.
“Has the caravan to send Dive to Toalun been arranged?”
“They say the Cheal caravan is heading there this time. The timing is perfect. They’ve sent a letter saying they’ll depart as soon as Dive is handed over.”
Lady Rien fumbled on the side table, searching for a cigarette. Since the day her husband died, she had developed the habit of smoking at least ten a day.
“What’s the cost?”
“An advance of 100 gold coins, and a starting fee of 100 gold coins.”
“That’s better than I expected. I thought it’d be in the thousands.”
She nodded with satisfaction, exhaled a plume of smoke, then muttered as she lit another.
“Butler, tell the Cheal caravan we’ll entrust them with the task.”
“Yes, madam.”
“Not just one person. Two will go.”
“Two?”
Lady Rien’s silence told Sarmon the identity of the second: Clark. Ian had assigned him as a watcher. She wanted to believe it was the best choice.
‘If the palace investigation comes, we’ll have to avoid it anyway. This is better. And once they reach Toalun, they can quietly take care of Dive and return…’
Return, and live together again?
Lady Rien felt like she was walking down a foggy path. She could see just a step ahead, but the distant destination was completely obscured.
“Dive’s servant will remain at the estate, right?”
“Yes, madam.”
Handling a lone servant left behind was a simple matter. Lady Rien lay back down, inhaling deeply from her cigarette.
“When is Sir Ian leaving for the capital?”
“Next week. And today, he’ll come by to finalize the contract.”
“Today, huh? Time flies.”
“Perhaps you should eat something.”
Though she’d lain in bed until the afternoon sun hung low, Lady Rien was quietly tying up loose ends—preparing the promised payment for Ian, cutting overall expenses for the estate, and so on.
“Is Dive still praying in the annex?”
“Yes. He seems to keep a strict routine.”
Eat, pray, eat, pray.
He seemed to suffer from being confined to the annex, unable to return home. Day and night, he wailed to whatever underground or surface deity might hear him, begging for salvation.
“Ridiculous.”
Draped in a loose robe, Lady Rien left her bedroom. The servants passing in the hall averted their eyes, pretending not to notice the cigarette dangling from her lips as she headed toward the underground prison.
Creak.
Clark bore clear marks of torture from the knights. But the scabs had healed, and his complexion didn’t look bad. He sat dazed until he recognized her and stood. They stared at each other through the bars.
“In a few days.”
Lady Rien broke the silence first.
“Go with Dive to the Kingdom of Hwan. Then, with the Cheal caravan, head to Toalun.”
“Toalun…”
“Do you know where that is?”
“Yes, I do.”
That meant he also knew it was very far away. Lady Rien swallowed the flood of words choking her throat and fell silent.
“In case the palace launches an investigation later, we’ll need proof that Dive arrived safely. So, take him there…”
Lady Rien placed her hand over Clark’s on the bars. It was the first time they’d touched. She sighed and spoke softly.
“Come back.”
Clark only smiled in response. He knew what burden his return would place on her. He lightly kissed the back of her hand and stepped back.
It was their last moment.
“Won’t the carriage wheels collapse under this weight?”
Beric muttered, eyeing the neatly stacked boxes. They were filled with chunks of Luron stone, broken down to manageable sizes after Ian had smashed them several times.
“There are only five boxes, but they feel heavier than boulders.”
“We’re planning to have about ten carriages pull them. We can split the load further. How’s the mine cleanup going?”
Ian buttoned his coat, having just taken out his uniform. Today was the day he’d head to Mereloff to wrap up Dive’s affairs and finalize contracts.
“The manager is still handling it. He asked what to do with the powder mixed with dirt.”
“Tell him to store it separately.”
Even the powdered magic stones hadn’t lost their power. If they collected every bit, it would surely come in handy later. Ian glanced at Beric and gave instructions.
“Beric, don’t come with me today. Go to the forest.”
“The forest? Ah, Filia?”
He meant for Beric to visit Filia, Ian’s birth mother. Ian was about to leave soon. He might return someday, but the chances were slim. For Filia, this might be the last time she saw her only child.
“Right. Let her know I’m leaving, and if she wants, she can come with me.”
“Got it. But you’re going to Mereloff alone?”
“Romandro and his men will accompany me. Those staying behind will need to work closely with Lady Rien, so it’s good to build rapport in advance.”
Though the time to leave the estate was near, Ian couldn’t quite grasp it. Letting go completely or holding on firmly—it was impossible to do either.
“Sigh.”
Ian sighed as he looked over the piled paperwork. To keep the estate running smoothly without him, he had to review and process everything before leaving. Beric watched silently, crunching on a Gula seed.
Knock knock.
“Ian, the carriage is ready.”
“Where’s Romandro?”
“He’s waiting downstairs.”
“I’ll be down shortly.”
At Hana’s call, Ian hurried out. Hana was about to leave too, but her eyes met Beric’s.
“Beric, why the long face?”
“You’re going to Mereloff too?”
“Yes. I probably won’t be back until late tonight.”
Hana had recently been crossing over to Mereloff, receiving various training from the butler. Even if she studied reading and writing here, she needed someone to teach her basic etiquette and estate management.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing much. But doesn’t Ian look tired?”
Hana’s eyes widened at the unexpected comment. Indeed, he’d been busy lately. She hadn’t seen him sleep at night for days.
“Yeah, I think so. He keeps leaving food untouched.”
Hana thought it over, then suddenly grabbed her hair in shock. Despite Beric’s bewildered look, she muttered to herself.
“Gah! A butler’s duty and virtue is to care for their master’s health and comfort. How could I have missed that?”
“…Hana, are you okay?”
“How busy can I be compared to Ian?! Me?!”
“Hey, calm down. You’re scaring me.”
“Starting tonight, I’m going to make sure he gets all the good things. Beric, thank you! I’ll work hard until the day I become the perfect butler!”
Hana’s eyes blazed with determination as she pumped her fist. Beric responded with a dazed smile, then watched her dash off like a bullet before collapsing onto the floor.
‘Busy people really do go a little crazy.’
Meanwhile, before heading to the front gate, Hana ran straight to the kitchen to find the head chef.
“Mr. Mander! I’m heading to Merelrop, and starting tomorrow, until Ian goes up there, please make sure to prepare only the most nutritious meals. Absolutely, no exceptions.”
“Hana? All of a sudden? What’s going on?”
“I think Ian’s losing his strength. He looks exhausted. So, pork, duck, beef! You know what I mean? I’m off!”
Crash! Bang!
The kitchen looked like a storm had just torn through it. A maid doing the dishes peeked her head out from inside.
“What did Hana say?”
“She’s going to get some meat from the village. For Ian’s health.”
“What? Ian? Is he sick?”
“Ian’s sick? What’s wrong with him?”
Rumors spread like wildfire. “Ian looks tired” quickly twisted into “Ian is sick,” or worse, “Ian is seriously ill.” A servant who had gone outside to the butcher sealed the deal.
“Lately, Ian’s been overexerting himself, so…”
“What!?”
Clatter, clatter!
Meanwhile, inside the carriage heading toward Merelrop, Ian suddenly felt an unbearable itch in his ear.
‘Is Berrick badmouthing me?’
He rubbed his ear and frowned, and Romandro, sitting across from him, asked with concern,
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just a little uncomfortable.”
“Hmm. Come to think of it, we settled most things by letter, but there’s been no word on the count’s funeral arrangements.”
The overall schedule had been easy to coordinate, but the count’s funeral remained undecided. Ian rested his chin on his hand, staring out the window. In the distance, Merelrop came into view beneath a sky so gray it looked ready to pour snow at any moment.
“They probably want to keep it a secret.”
“Hm? Secret?”
“Just like the lady’s wedding—completely under wraps. That’s why they waited for winter.”
For a funeral no one would come to, and no one could come to.