Chapter 252

Melania stepped down from the carriage and stared blankly up at the mansion. It was strange—this had been her home all her life, yet everything felt unfamiliar, as if she were a stranger in someone else’s house.

The trampled grass, bloodstains on the marble floor, toppled and broken ornaments, torn curtains, and the empty entrance hall that greeted her with no one in sight, despite her arrival.

She pushed open the half-ajar door and stepped inside.

Creak.

“Hey! Who’s there? You can’t just barge in like that. Are you from the Haiman family?”

At the end of the hallway, a group of palace guards who had been gathered in small clusters heard the noise and shouted out. They didn’t recognize her. Just as Melania was about to respond, the soldier who had escorted her from the palace followed closely behind.

“This is Lady Melania, the youngest daughter of the Haiman family. Please, carry on with your duties.”

“Oh, I see. Thank you.”

“Where’s Captain Jarrett?”

“He said he’d do one more sweep of the training grounds, just in case.”

Melania bit her lip hard. The guards’ casual dismissal reminded her painfully of her own precarious position.

Without hesitation, she turned and climbed the stairs. Creak, creak—the stairs groaned beneath her feet. Her senses told her everything was in disarray.

Boom! Crash!

“Melania!”

“Brother!”

Her younger brother came running down at the sound. His clothes were disheveled, his hair messy, but it was the despair etched deep in his eyes that was most striking. He pulled her into a tight embrace, his voice trembling with worry.

“Melania, are you okay? What about Father and Mother? And our eldest brother?”

“Brother, let’s go inside first. We can talk there.”

“Please, tell me now. Is everyone alright? What happened at the palace? Tell me!”

Melania glanced around. Upstairs was empty too. She had ordered the servants to stay put, yet no one was there.

She sank down on the stairs with her little brother, brushing her hair back as a weary sigh escaped her lips.

“So, what happened to everyone?”

“Don’t even ask. I finally saw their true colors.”

Half the household staff had left right after Melania left in the carriage. The palace guards’ warnings that they wouldn’t be paid had hit hard.

No matter how long they’d been loyal, they had their own lives—families, lovers, friends—waiting for them outside the mansion.

“Brother, that’s just how it is. When darkness falls, even shadows abandon me. How could those around me be expected to stay? Don’t blame them. I don’t have the strength to waste on blame.”

“The slaves were counted and taken by the palace guards. Somehow, they knew the exact number. The private soldiers were disbanded too. Some fought back and got badly beaten, sent to the hospital. The steward said he’d cover the medical bills for now…”

Her brother rubbed his face roughly with a dry cloth. How had things come to this? How had the Haiman family come to the point where they couldn’t even pay for their own kin’s treatment and had to rely on the steward’s charity?

Melania comforted him quietly. It was heartbreaking, but this was only the beginning. Brother, we’ve already passed the starting line, and at the end of this path lies only death. She swallowed the words she couldn’t bring herself to say.

“Brother, don’t you remember? The Haiman children played marbles with jewels and cut cloth with silk. If we just seize the right moment, paying the household staff won’t be a problem. The end of the Haiman family won’t be so pitiful.”

“Melania, the end? Tell me, what’s really going on inside? What about you? How did you get out?”

She gripped his hands tightly and spoke in a low voice, revealing the fate of the Haiman family teetering on the edge of ruin.

“Father, Mother, and our eldest brother will be executed. It seems irreversible. Lord Ian, the Minister of Magic, has declared he will not back down.”

“Damn it! Damn it!”

He let out a furious roar, stomping his feet. Two guards below peeked up, curious about the commotion.

“But there’s still a chance.”

“A chance? Mother and Father are dead! The family is shattered and destitute! What chance could there possibly be?”

“We—”

Melania held her brother’s shoulder firmly. Her eyes shone brightly, resolute as someone stepping into a raging storm.

“We are the Haiman family. As long as we live, Haiman lives. Haven’t you forgotten? Every great family started with just one person.”

“Me-Melania…”

She couldn’t guarantee her brother’s survival. In fact, she knew the odds of tragedy were far greater.

For a family condemned for treason to have a surviving direct heir was almost a miracle. If she hadn’t met Ian in Bratz, such a miracle would have been unimaginable.

“The Serro family has been nominated to replace Haiman. Lord Ian suggested that if we can prove ourselves more valuable than Serro, some of us might be spared.”

Though Ian’s offer applied only to Melania, she kept this from her brother. She knew his nature well—opportunistic, weak-willed, someone who would choose personal safety over honor.

Unnecessary words would only breed misunderstanding and require explanations they didn’t have time for. Now was not the moment.

“Is that true?”

“Yes. So stay sharp. The other seven noble families must have surviving heirs too. We need to unite and turn the tide.”

A flicker of hope softened her brother’s expression. He fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette.

“Well… uh… there’s no carriage available right now.”

“I have one. And brother, I must ask you to keep this all secret. If the other families learn we still have a chance, it will be harder to maneuver. They might resist cooperating.”

He bit down on his dry cigarette and nodded repeatedly.

Melania gently stroked his cheek, her eyes misting. Oh, brother. When we were kids, we used to hide by the stairs and whisper secrets. Now, we whisper with death hanging over us.

“Melania, if the goal is to keep Serro in check—”

She raised an eyebrow, still caressing his face.

“So, Serro’s current boldness comes from the trust of Lord Ian and His Highness, right? If we let them know that trust has been lost, won’t their confidence fade?”

“That’s a good idea, but it can’t be done that way.”

“Why not?”

“That’s something Lord Ian could do himself. He could invite other families for tea, discuss the situation, propose future plans, and naturally shift their trust. But he’s not doing that. He wants to use us.”

What Ian wanted—or what he was willing to do—was to drag the nobles into a mudslinging fight. Her brother crushed his cigarette, frowning.

“Do you think he’ll use us and then discard us?”

“Of course.”

Melania smiled faintly, as if amused by his naïveté.

“But whether he throws us into the furnace or onto the street is entirely up to him. Our goal is simply to survive long enough to be discarded. Understand? To do that, we have to prove our worth and satisfy him.”

“How… how do we do that?”

“Change your clothes and get ready. I’ll change into something easier to move in as well.”

Gathering up the heavy folds of her dress with one hand, Melania stood and took determined steps toward her bedroom.

There was no time to waste. Before the trial began, before everything was sealed, they had to make progress. Her brother watched her retreating figure, steeling himself as he crushed his cigarette.

---

Ian and Jin sat side by side on the office sofa, reading. Ian’s desk belonged to Romandro, so he was sorting through the paperwork he’d missed while resting.

Thanks to that, Ian was able to enjoy a brief tea break with Jin, flipping through the pages.

Rustle.

“Your Highness, please read this.”

“Ka-rderoni.”

“Excellent pronunciation.”

“Is that so? Hehe.”

Jin smiled brightly at Ian’s praise. Across from them, Beric, who was munching on goulash, decided to give it a try.

“What is it? I want to try too.”

“…Repeat after me. Ka-rderoni.”

“Kaaaarteroni!”

“Not bad.”

“What does it mean?”

“It’s a foreign phrase. It means, ‘I will no longer eat meat.’”

Ian’s words made Beric cover his mouth in shock. Was it a joke? His expression didn’t change, so it was hard to tell.

Beric’s eyes darted around in confusion, and Jin blinked sharply beside him—a clear signal that it was all in jest.

“Ian! Don’t joke about food like that! I nearly had a heart attack!”

“Beric, I got the receipt yesterday. Are you sure you’re not joking about food? The amount you ate was unbelievable. For now, stick to pork.”

“Ha, damn it. Shouldn’t have butted in. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.”

With that, he grabbed a big handful of dried grapes and stuffed them into his mouth. Watching from behind, Romandro scratched his chin with his pen and turned to Ian.

“By the way, Ian.”

“Yes? Is there a problem with the approval?”

“No, not that. But after the ceremony to appoint Jin’s heir, what are we going to do with Berrick and Xiaoshi?”

Berrick was a magic swordsman but a commoner, and Xiaoshi was a slave. If Jin and Ian continued to be together, it was obvious they’d stay by Jin’s side as well. Having members of the royal family—especially the next emperor’s closest circle—be low-ranking commoners without titles wouldn’t look good. Ian leaned back on the sofa and nodded.

“I’ve been thinking about that. How about assigning Berrick to the Imperial Palace Guard?”

“Me? You want me to go somewhere?”

“Not you going anywhere, just the title.”

The Imperial Palace Guard was filled with magic swordsmen. So if Berrick wanted to stay in the palace, it made sense to officially place him there. When Berrick jumped up in protest, Ian motioned for him to calm down.

“Just the title? Is that allowed?”

“Do it.”

“What about training?”

“I’ll tell Jaret. Officially, he’ll be with them, but we’ll call him over when needed. Magic swordsmen are rare, so they won’t refuse. From now on, you earn your keep.”

“Ah, I’m starving here.”

The plan was to extend their influence into the Imperial Palace Guard through Berrick. Honestly, since he was such a wild card, it might not help much. But it was better to have his name on the roster than to leave him idle.

“And Xiaoshi?”

“Xiaoshi…”

Ian glanced toward Xiaoshi standing by the door. He was looking at Ian with a calm expression.

“Xiaoshi, what do you want? You’re not a magic swordsman, so the Imperial Defense Department would suit you. Do you want to join them?”

“I don’t really care either way.”

“Then how about buying your freedom from me?”

“…Excuse me?”

“Do you know how much slaves go for these days, Romandro?”

“Well, I’d have to check, but usually the owner sets the price.”

If a slave saved enough money to buy their freedom, they could restore their status. But since the owner set the price and slaves couldn’t realistically accumulate wealth, it was nearly impossible.

“If you don’t have the money, I’ll lend it to you. You can repay it by working here after you regain your status.”

In practice, things wouldn’t change much. But a slave couldn’t be the closest person to a prince. Xiaoshi understood the implication and nodded.

“If you do that, I will gratefully accept.”

“It’s a loan. No need to thank me.”

“No, thank you.”

He was probably the only one among his ancestors to have escaped slavery. Xiaoshi thought of his mother, dying behind bars, and strangely felt a sting in his nose. He couldn’t understand the source of that feeling.

Knock, knock.

At that moment, a sound came from outside.

“Come in.”

“Ian, there’s a message from the judiciary. The trial date for the seven families has been finalized.”

“When is it?”

“In ten days. And…”

“And?”

“Sir Serro is here outside.”

Serro?

The gazes of Ian, Romandro, Jin, and Xiaoshi—all four men—met in the air. Berrick just yawned widely and scratched his ear.