Episode 78

As Count Mereloff was reviewing some documents, he suddenly heard hurried footsteps approaching. Just as he looked up, the butler burst through the door, his face pale with alarm. The household was strict about protocol—no one ever entered without knocking first…

“What’s going on?”

“Count, it’s terrible. There’s been an incident.”

The butler’s trembling voice made Mereloff set down his pen without realizing it. He had rarely seen the man so unsettled.

“The trade caravan sent word… the wagons were completely burned to ashes.”

“What?!”

Mereloff sprang to his feet, mouth agape in disbelief. How on earth did the wagons catch fire?

“A man named Colin set the wagons ablaze and tried to kill the people. It seems he was after the gold coins the mercenaries were carrying. Unfortunately, some of the party died trying to stop him.”

“How much gold are we talking about?”

Most payments were made through Hyman Bank via bills and promissory notes. The gold the mercenaries carried was just petty cash for the journey, not the payment for the trade.

“To commoners, it might seem like a lot.”

“So, what do you suggest we do?”

“Besides the wagons being destroyed, some were injured from smoke inhalation inside the cave. The messenger said they’re heading toward Sheiron, but it’s unclear how long it will take.”

That wasn’t all.

With the wagons burned to cinders, they’d need to find new supplies to transport the food. Cost aside, it was uncertain if anything could be found this winter—every scrap of wood was being used for firewood these days.

“…Ha. Ha ha. Ha!”

“Colin was always suspicious. If the trade caravan goes to Sheiron, it’ll cost even more. Maybe it’s better to have them turn back?”

They weren’t going to sleep on the ground or survive on water alone. With injured people, they’d need a doctor too.

Mereloff pressed his palm to his forehead, groaning in frustration.

‘This is the worst.’

Yes. Of all the winters he had endured, Mereloff was certain this one was the absolute worst.

“Why the hell did they set the fire?!”

CRASH!

Unable to contain his rage, Count Mereloff grabbed the nearest object and hurled it across the room.

He couldn’t believe that among so many people, no one had stopped it. Were those living under his name really such a ragtag bunch?

Indeed.

The fragile order hidden beneath the surface of peace was now cracking under pressure. The state of the Mereloff estate was nothing short of a disaster.

“Kill Colin’s entire family. Every last one of them.”

“…Yes, Count.”

“Scrape this miserable household clean. No exceptions—men, women, children—hang them all. Kill them all, kill them until there’s nothing left…”

One disaster after another was suffocating him. Forget the burned wagons; now he was worried about what would be on his own dining table. If they couldn’t get food from Sheiron or the Havan Kingdom, there was only one option left.

BANG! CRASH!

“Damn it. What the hell is going on? Do I need to consult an oracle or something? Huh?”

“AAAAHH!”

Mereloff slammed his fist on the table and, out of habit, grabbed the butler by the scruff of his neck. Then, with all his might, he unleashed his fury on the poor man.

The butler’s gaunt frame wobbled under the blows, but he lowered his eyes and remained silent.

“I-I’m sorry, Count. I’m truly sorry.”

“Sigh. Butler, I told you to hire better people!”

“…Please, have mercy!”

The butler bit his lip hard and bowed deeply. If he didn’t calm the Count down soon, an innocent person might pay the price today.

“Leave.”

“B-But Count—”

“Go and kill every last one of Colin’s bloodline!”

Creak.

The butler’s hair was still tangled in the Count’s grip. Reluctantly, he backed out of the study, where the other servants waiting by the door looked up at him with worried faces.

“B-Butler…”

“Everyone, step back. This is going to get messy.”

“What about him? What do we do?”

“Shh. Do you want to ring the death knell?”

The butler’s words painted fear in the servants’ eyes, deepening with moist tears. They hesitated, pretending not to hear the screams coming from inside the study.

Click.

The sharp sound of footsteps echoed clearly, slicing through the icy tension. The butler and servants turned their heads simultaneously. Standing calmly was Count Mereloff’s wife.

“What’s going on here?”

“M-My lady…”

BANG! CRASH!

Instead of answering, she glanced toward the noisy door, then gave the butler a faint sigh.

“Open the door.”

“My lady, n-now is not the time—”

“It’s fine. Open it.”

She brushed aside the servants’ protests lightly. Her gaze was resolute yet serene, leaving the servants unable to guess her intentions—even though they had seen this happen many times before, with servants dying one after another.

“Sniff…”

“Do I have to open it myself?”

One servant couldn’t hold back tears any longer, and Countess Mereloff shot a sharp glance his way.

Finally, the butler placed his hand on the doorknob.

Creak.

The door slowly opened. A servant, drenched in blood, lay face down on the floor. Blood splattered across the wooden furniture. The Countess lifted her head proudly and stepped inside.

“Husband.”

The Count wheezed, turning around at her voice.

Judging by how badly the man had been beaten, sweat dripped from his scalp. The servant desperately rubbed his palms together.

“Stop sending that child away.”

“Sniff… please, have mercy…”

“Come play with me.”

The Countess’s face, usually dry and emotionless, now bloomed with a radiant smile. She tilted her head slightly and locked eyes with the butler standing by the door. Seizing the moment, the servant hurriedly crawled out.

“Close the door.”

Creak.

Light filtered through the slowly closing gap. As always, the butler felt the weight in his heart as he shut the door.

Taking her husband’s hand gently, Countess Mereloff offered softly,

“Husband, why don’t we ask Bratz for help?”

But the old man’s ragged breaths, flickering with madness, showed no sign of calming. She whispered quietly again.

“If it’s too difficult for you to go in person, I can go. We’re about the same age, and it might be better for both of us if I go instead.”

“You? You’ll go?”

“Yes. Leave it to me.”

Mereloff growled as he grabbed a lock of his wife’s hair, letting it slip through his fingers. She remained calm, as always.

“You’re not trying to run away, are you?”

“Of course not. How could I?”

At her composed words, the Count shook her hair roughly. Her gaze was fixed beyond him, on the bright full moon shining white in the sky.

---

Four days later, Countess Mereloff arrived at Bratz. Ian, who had been informed in advance, waited at the mansion’s front gate. As the carriage door opened, the elegantly dressed lady smiled and extended her hand.

“Welcome, Countess Mereloff. We’re honored to have you.”

“Ian—or should I say, now Marquis Ian? I almost slipped up calling you Ian just now.”

“Was your journey not too tiring?”

“Oh, please. Are we really that far apart?”

The Countess subtly hinted that they were neighbors. Ian smiled without a word and led her to the parlor.

“To be honest, I was a bit surprised to hear you were coming.”

“When I heard about your ennoblement, I felt bad that neither you nor the Count had received proper congratulations.”

The Countess removed her thick coat and handed it to a servant. Her nose was red from the cold inside the carriage.

“No need to mention it. I understand how busy you must be with your duties.”

“Thank you, Lord Ian. The Count wanted to come as well, but as you said, he simply couldn’t find the time.”

“You even sent a gift.”

Ian casually brought up the dripper.

“I’m not sure if such a precious item should have been given to me.”

Had she known the dripper’s value when she gave it? Or was it a prank that had backfired spectacularly?

Ian watched the Countess’s expression carefully, but she only smiled mysteriously.

“Was it a bit too much? I suggested something else, but the Count insisted it would be very useful to you. What do I know? Since he said so…”

‘No matter her origins, she’s definitely nobility now.’

What a frustrating way to speak.

The Count’s insistence meant it was valuable, but if Ian didn’t like it, it was her fault for lacking taste.

“Not at all. I like it very much. It’s truly remarkable.”

Not just for appearances—he genuinely appreciated it. Judging by its pristine condition, it seemed newly developed. Where else could one find such a thing?

The Countess smiled and nodded.

“I’m glad to hear that. The Count will be pleased, too. I’ve prepared other gifts as well, so you can look forward to those.”

“It’s an honor, my lady.”

“But, Lord Ian, the reason I came today was…”

Countess Mereloff trailed off. Ian naturally expected the conversation to turn to the gulla trade. But what she said next was something he never could have anticipated.

“I’d like to see Lady Mary’s room. Didn’t I mention before? There’s something I lent to her that I never got back.”

“Oh.”

Ian hesitated, surprised. The countess’s eyes sparkled with a silent plea—please, let me. And at the same time, it seemed she hoped Ian hadn’t tidied up Mary’s room. After all, it was the room of a sinful stepmother; normally, it would have been completely overhauled…

“Do as you please. Since it’s something you’re looking for, I won’t stand in your way. I’ve been too busy to touch that room much. If Lady Mary still has it, it should be just as it was.”

Ian’s words hinted at suspicion over the odd behavior of the two ladies, but more accurately, it was that he simply hadn’t paid much attention.

With Ian’s permission granted, Lady Mereloff sprang to her feet and began barking orders at the servant.

“Then we should get to it right away.”

“I’ll show you the way.”

“Will Sir Ian be coming along?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll help look as well—just tell me what it is you’re searching for.”

At Ian’s words, Lady Mereloff’s expression stiffened slightly. It was so subtle that Ian wondered if he’d imagined it, but he watched her face more closely. Her posture was impeccably elegant, her back straight as she walked.

“This way, Countess.”

The servant politely led Lady Mereloff and Ian down the hall to the farthest room just below the study. The door, firmly shut, creaked open, releasing that unmistakable scent of an old manor.

“They said they cleaned it, but since no one’s been using the room, the smell of the wood is strong. I’ll open the windows to air it out.”

With a soft rattle, a chill breeze drifted in through the window, but Lady Mereloff barely seemed to notice. She carefully surveyed the room, then began rifling through drawers and the wardrobe. Ian stood a few steps back, watching her.

“Madam, if you tell me what you’re looking for, I can have the servants assist.”

“No, it’s better if no one else touches it.”

With a swift rustle, the countess’s hands swept through the clothes. Fine, ornate fabrics shifted quickly, pushed aside on their hangers, but it seemed she found nothing.

“Sir Ian.”

“Yes, madam?”

“Excuse me, could you step outside for a moment? I want to search the inner cabinet more thoroughly. I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

She pointed to a chest where undergarments were kept. Ian gave a subtle nod to the servant to keep watch, then quietly left the room. Lady Mereloff waited until the door was fully closed before resuming her search.

“Um, Countess… is there anything I can do to help?”

“Open every drawer. I’ll find it myself.”

Suddenly, the countess stopped and muttered something under her breath. The servant flinched at the cold, fierce expression reflected in the dressing table mirror.

Lost in deep thought, she then resumed tearing through the drawers with a frantic intensity.