Episode 20
“I hear Ian isn’t feeling well?”
“Yes, my lord. He’s had a stomachache since this morning and has been lying in bed all day.”
Count Bratz frowned as he fastened his cufflinks. He’d sensed something off about the dining room atmosphere since morning. The servants kept glancing oddly at what Ian was—or wasn’t—eating.
The count mistakenly thought the servants were hesitating to report something. In truth, Ian had been skipping meals and was starving.
“And the doctor?”
His tone betrayed more concern about whether this would tarnish the peace treaty than about his son’s health. The steward nodded in relief.
“The examination just finished. The doctor said it’s nothing serious—likely stress-related. He suggested we monitor his condition over the next day or two and prepare some medicine if needed.”
“Is he faking it?”
“Well, he has been pushing himself lately. You know how fragile he is.”
Ian’s body was so delicate it seemed like a gust of wind could blow him away, yet he’d been running around relentlessly. Derga snorted in response.
“I heard there was a commotion at the front gate yesterday.”
“Yes, my lord. Shall I prepare to discipline him?”
“Discipline? No. Just keep the doctor close and take good care of his health. He’s about to cross the border soon—still clinging to foolish attachments. Tsk, tsk.”
Does he not realize that everything entangling me now is a shackle?
This actually works out well. I was starting to get annoyed trying to keep the boy tied down with just his mother. For some reason, Philia has quieted down lately.
She no longer throws tantrums demanding to see Ian, and Ian himself doesn’t ask about her like before.
‘Compared to when he was crying to see his mother at the start, it’s clear his feelings are dulling.’
Besides, Ian has been meeting secretly with Molin two or three times a week. There’s definitely some hidden agenda from the old man, but Broach always stays clean.
At this point, I can’t help but suspect some scheme is unfolding. It’s an instinct—a sharp sense.
“What was his name again? Eric?”
“Beric, my lord.”
“If Ian wants to meet him, let him. Accommodate him as much as possible. He’s an orphan, right?”
He held up the letter the tutor brought last night to verify handwriting. Even a passing dog could tell it was illiterate scrawl. It got neater toward the bottom, but still…
Derga frowned and muttered,
“There’s a saying: losing a lover is like losing your heart; losing a friend is like losing your lungs.”
His feet are tied by his mother’s rope; now it’s time to bind his wrists with the name of friendship. For the next month and a half, even if that brat crosses the border, I must prepare everything so he sacrifices himself for the Bratz family.
“Teach Ian how to breathe. I’m curious how much strength a friend can give.”
That way, when I squeeze the noose later, the pain and fear will come back tenfold. The steward bowed deeply in response to Derga’s orders.
“There won’t be any problems managing the estate, my lord.”
“Of course not.”
“Steward, I trust you completely.”
“I won’t disappoint your trust.”
“I expect great things.”
“Understood. I’ll take my leave.”
Clack.
The steward left. Derga lit the wax stand. As the red wax inside slowly melted, he opened a drawer.
Rrrk.
He reached inside with practiced ease, feeling a round groove. Twisting the diamond ring on his index finger, he slid it inward.
Click.
With a clear sound, a secret compartment opened. It looked ordinary from the outside, but inside it carried an electric current. Anyone poking around carelessly would get electrocuted on the spot.
Like the fake key Derga had given the steward.
‘This steward’s lasted quite a while.’
Long ago, one steward was found dead in Derga’s office. The Bratz family’s trap had finally sprung. They suspected collusion with the Cheonryeo tribe, but the dead don’t speak.
‘This steward’s sharp enough to know what happened.’
Though Derga never openly said it was the seal storage, he subtly let it be known that precious items were kept here. He hadn’t even taken out the broach in front of Ian.
Swish.
Derga poured wax over the letter’s envelope and pressed the Bratz family seal lightly. The image of a tiger representing the family was vividly imprinted.
Ian lay half-reclined in a cozy bed. He’d tried to stay alone in the annex, but surprisingly, the household fussed over him even more. Since the doctor’s visit, the servants had been bringing him all sorts of food, making the morning noisier than usual.
“Hana? Are you outside?”
“Yes, young master.”
Ian checked for Hana’s presence as he put on his jacket.
It was 3 p.m., the time when the servants finished their late lunch and began cleaning the main house. A few remained downstairs, but this was the quietest time.
“Let’s go.”
“Yes, young master.”
With Hana’s help, Ian planned to search the steward’s room. Hana would keep watch and distract anyone approaching.
“But really, you’re going to give me silver coins?”
Of course, since this was risky, he was promised a reward beyond just food. With three nobles from the central government on board, a few silver coins wouldn’t be too much.
“Don’t worry.”
“It’s not worry—I’m just wondering what I’ll buy with them.”
Hana moved swiftly, scanning both sides of the corridor. No one was around. Ian tiptoed down the stairs, trying to use the less-traveled back staircase.
“Come on, that can’t be true.”
“No way. You got scammed, kid. Haha!”
Voices echoed. The servant quarters door closed, and the footsteps faded. Hana went down first and gave a reassuring nod.
“I’ll keep watch at the lower stairs. If anything happens, I’ll shout. Be careful.”
“Thanks—”
Click.
Ian hesitated as he turned the doorknob. Locked rooms were rare inside the mansion. Even the count’s bedroom was always open, as far as he knew. Guards stood outside, but still.
“Locked?”
“…Won’t open.”
Was the tutor like this too? Ian guessed from the tutor’s hints that he’d failed, but he hadn’t expected to be completely shut out. As Ian debated whether to use magic, Hana motioned for him to step aside.
“Wait a moment.”
She began fiddling with the keyhole using a hairpin. Ian raised an eyebrow skeptically. How could that possibly open the door?
Click.
“Open?”
“It’s open.”
Hana dusted off her hands as if it was nothing. Ian looked astonished. The girl smiled, tucking the hairpin back into her hair.
“I told you, I have lots of siblings.”
“…And?”
“In big families, doors get locked and unlocked all the time. It’s how they express complaints or play pranks. Even a fork can open a simple latch like this.”
“Looks like a talent to me.”
“If that counts as talent, all the kids in the neighborhood would be geniuses. Now, get to work.”
Hana didn’t realize that living near the red-light district had influenced her skills. Picking locks, passing secret messages, swapping drinks—these were unfamiliar acts to commoners.
Creak.
Ian left Hana behind and entered the steward’s room. It was modest: a bed, a desk, and a single wardrobe. So sparse it almost felt shabby.
“Hmm.”
Ian paced the room, looking around.
What could the tutor have wanted from the steward?
He flung open the wardrobe door and found dozens of keyrings hanging on the wall—easily over a hundred keys. It seemed the mansion’s entire key collection was here.
Jingle.
Each key was labeled: “1st floor, left wing, utility room 1,” “utility room 2,” and so on. Ian flipped through until he found the set for the main office.
‘Here it is. Office, assistant’s spare room.’
Then, a strange key caught his eye. It was blunt, like it had a bead on the end. No label, and it felt heavier than the others, made of a different material.
Knock knock.
Suddenly, Hana knocked urgently from outside. Someone was coming up the stairs. Ian quickly opened a box beneath the wardrobe. Inside were miscellaneous documents, IDs, and free-passage permits for the estate.
Knock knock!
The knocking grew more urgent. Ian had no choice but to tidy the wardrobe and leave the room. As the door closed, he locked eyes with a servant ascending the stairs.
“Ian? Hana?”
“What are you doing out? How’s your health?”
Hana rolled her eyes. Ian answered naturally as they walked.
“I was getting restless lying down all day. Just wanted a short walk.”
“No! The doctor said you mustn’t move at all!”
The servants fussed, pushing Ian forward, with Hana following closely behind. They exchanged glances.
‘Did you find what you were looking for?’
‘Not sure yet.’
The only things that stuck in my memory were a strangely shaped key and a free pass to roam the estate. There wasn’t a single book, so if the teacher wanted something, it had to be one of those two.
“If Ian doesn’t get better soon, we’re going to be in trouble.”
“Hana, don’t bother Ian and come out here.”
“Uh, um, sisters! Just a moment—”
Bang!
The servants, after giving their warnings, dragged Hana away. The room fell silent once more. Ian sat by the window, staring at a potted plant, lost in thought.
A blunt key, a pass, and the teacher. I’d have to casually probe next class to figure out what he really wanted.
‘Maybe the key doesn’t even exist.’
When Derga pulled out the brooch, he didn’t do anything unusual—just slipped his hand in. There are magical devices like fingerprint scanners, but nothing Derga would have in this day and age.
Suddenly, a loud noise came from outside the door.
Thud! Thud!
Heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway, heading this way. Ian finally turned his head to look toward the door.
Derga? Maybe he was coming to throw a fit, accusing me of faking illness.
Thud!
The footsteps stopped right outside the door. Then came a barrage of pounding, as if someone was trying to break it down. Ian frowned, tilting his head in confusion.
“…Who is it?”
“Guess that means I’m allowed in, right?”
Before Ian could even register the familiar voice, the door swung wide open. Through the gap, a flash of red hair and eyes appeared.
“Hey there!”
Standing there was Berrick, wearing a triumphant grin from ear to ear.