Episode 79

“Ian.”

Stepping out into the central garden, Ian turned his head at Romandro’s call.

“I heard the Countess of Mereloff has arrived? Where is she? I suppose the Count felt it a bit awkward to come out himself and sent her instead, ha ha ha! Quite the character.”

“I thought the same, but the Countess is currently in Lady Mary’s room.”

“Hm? Lady Mary Bratz, you say? Why there? I heard they’re close friends. Maybe she’s come late to offer her condolences?”

“Perhaps. I hope it’s something like that. But apparently, she’s looking for something she lent to Lady Mary.”

“Something? What exactly?”

“I don’t know. I asked, but she wouldn’t say.”

Romandro frowned at Ian’s words. What could two noblewomen possibly be exchanging? The Countess of Mereloff’s odd behavior, which they expected to be brief, dragged on well past lunchtime.

creak

“…”

The Countess of Mereloff emerged from Mary’s room with a strange expression—partly satisfied, partly not.

Ian noticed the pale-faced servant following her and guessed that the search had been unsuccessful.

“Madam?”

“Oh, Sir Ian, it took longer than I expected.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“No. It seems to have been lost in the commotion. It’s not in the room.”

She brushed her hair back with a faint smile. To an outsider, she might have seemed radiant and charming. But from the way she avoided the topic earlier and now, it was clear she had no intention of revealing what she was searching for.

No need to press her then.

“Shall we go to the parlor?”

“I was just about to have some tea, so that sounds perfect.”

“Countess Mereloff, good day.”

“Oh! Hello. How have you been? I believe your name is Romandro?”

“That’s right, madam.”

The Countess greeted Romandro warmly, blowing a kiss to his hand, then chattered as she made her way back down to the parlor. Watching from the bottom of the stairs, Beric muttered under his breath.

“Smells like another one of those unusual lunatics.”

“…Beric.”

“I’m just saying. What’s with her?”

“Have a look around the room and tidy up afterward.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

Beric answered half-heartedly and entered Mary’s room.

By the time Ian arrived at the parlor, Romandro and the Countess were already pouring tea.

“Sir Ian, I apologize for the trouble earlier.”

“Not at all, madam. Please don’t worry.”

“And I mentioned earlier that I have another gift for you?”

“Yes, you did.”

Ian took a seat opposite the Countess and replied.

“I heard you need to make a donation to the central fund.”

“Oh? How did you know?”

“Word travels fast. But the amount seems quite large, so we thought we might assist you.”

“You mean the Count of Mereloff?”

“Yes. We can’t cover everything you want, but we could probably lend you about 5,000 gold coins.”

“Lend?”

“Yes, interest-free, but in exchange, we’d like some Gula seeds. What do you think?”

Ian smiled gently.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Cough!”

Romandro suddenly choked on his tea. To be so bluntly rejected like that! Yet the Countess just shrugged as if it didn’t bother her.

“Is that so?”

“First, I appreciate the Count and yourself taking such care. But the donation only holds meaning if we pay it ourselves, and we have the means to do so.”

“You have the means? Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. So I must decline your offer. Besides, when you consider the interest on 5,000 gold coins versus the value of Gula seeds, the latter is far more valuable. Gula seeds never die; planting a dozen or so will multiply them many times over, solving winter hunger.”

“But Gula used to be worthless.”

“That was before. You can always earn more gold coins, but a human life lost is gone forever.”

She spoke with a clear understanding of Mereloff’s situation—money in the pocket but nowhere to spend it. The Countess sipped her tea and smiled softly.

“If you want to buy Gula, I will gladly accommodate that. It’s cleaner and more respectable for both sides. After all, isn’t money the easiest way to solve things?”

“…How much would you ask per sack?”

“Fifty gold coins.”

“Fifty gold coins?”

Romandro, listening across the table, coughed and spilled some tea. Didn’t she say ten gold coins per sack before?

But Ian was clear: ten was the minimum.

“Good heavens. Selling such weeds for fifty gold coins a sack?”

“Would you like to see the size?”

Ian called a servant over without hesitation. The servant fumbled with an empty sack, showing its size—small, reaching just to the calf.

The Countess raised her eyebrows, still marveling quietly.

“Wow.”

As if it weren’t her concern.

“Are you mocking me?”

“Not at all, madam. You’re here on behalf of the Count, aren’t you? Insulting you would be insulting him. That’s unthinkable.”

Ian was certain now—the Countess had little real interest in the Gula trade. Her sole purpose seemed to be retrieving the item she had lent Lady Mary.

“A sack holds about thirty to forty Gula seeds. If you plant them all, within a month you’ll have hundreds, and after another month, thousands or even tens of thousands.”

This assumed none were eaten and all were planted. Given that winter was already approaching, that was unlikely.

“In two months, you’d have more than enough to feed everyone in the Mereloff domain. I trust you understand that a domain’s foundation lies in its population.”

“Hmm. I see.”

“Prices are shaped by many factors. We, like Count Mereloff, prioritize our people. By the way, how much did you sell grain for?”

Romandro jumped in eagerly.

“Essential staples like wheat and corn were excluded, but other ingredients were more than double the usual price. The potatoes were especially notable—half a gold coin per barrel.”

He meant to say, “You did this to yourselves.” When you asked for help, you claimed hardship and charged high prices, and now you’re getting the same treatment in return.

The Countess twisted her hair and stared blankly out the window. Then, as if recalling something, she murmured quietly.

“Actually, the one opening his purse is the Count, so my opinion probably doesn’t matter much. Fifty gold coins is a lot to pay just to survive. We might have to give up some land.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

Meanwhile, inside Lady Mary’s room.

While Ian, the Countess, and Romandro were negotiating this delicate deal, Beric was casually inspecting the room. He sensed someone’s presence and turned around.

creak

“Beric? What are you doing here?”

It was Hana. She wiped her wet hands on her apron and tilted her head.

“Oh, the Countess came earlier and rummaged through the room. She told me to check it over and lock the door afterward.”

“Rummaged? Why?”

“No idea. Seems Lady Mary lent something and hasn’t returned it. Ian thinks it’s here, but I can’t find it anywhere.”

That explained Mary’s behavior when she fled—she must have tried to stop them from searching the room.

“Don’t even know what it is?”

“Crazy, right?”

“Hmm. Definitely not an easy situation.”

Hana crossed her arms and quickly scanned the room. Then, bowing down, she shoved a broom under the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for hidden spots. Rooms don’t have that many places to hide things—under the bed, inside or behind wardrobes and cabinets…”

“We already checked all that.”

“If not there, then the floor or ceiling.”

“The floor and ceiling?”

Hana tapped the floor with the broom, listening for hollow sounds.

thump! thump thump!

“Yeah, sometimes wooden floors can be pried up. The ceiling’s too high to reach by hand… Ah!”

She suddenly looked up, eyes fixed on the chandelier. Its wooden beams stretched out like branches from the center, draped here and there.

“Wait a moment. A chair won’t be enough.”

“A ladder?”

“Yes, yes.”

“I’ll go get it. You keep tapping the floor.”

Beric was about to rush out but hesitated, clearly impressed by Hana’s skill.

“By the way, what exactly are you? You pick locks well, have great dexterity, and are an expert at hiding and finding things.”

“Everyone in my neighborhood can do this much.”

“Doesn’t seem like it…”

A skill born of their environment, perhaps. Hana’s home was relatively better off, but she’d heard of houses where the ceilings collapsed from hiding so many valuables.

Hana gestured for him to hurry, and though Beric shook his head, he obeyed.

“Hold tight.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if I climbed up?”

“Beric, you can’t even find clothes in a drawer. Hold steady so I don’t fall.”

creak

Haena climbed the ladder and reached her hand inside the chandelier. She could feel the warmth of the lightbulb at her fingertips, and with it, some sticky dust clung to her hand.

“Just a little to the left… Ah!”

“Why? Why, why? Did you find it?”

“Uh…”

Haena pulled out a round object from her hand. It was a compact with a glossy black finish. This had to be the item Mrs. Merry and Mrs. Mereloff had been exchanging…

“Why would they hide cosmetics here?”

“Right? It’s nothing special.”

“Shall we open it?”

As Haena handed over the compact and climbed down the ladder, Berrick couldn’t resist and popped the lid open first. Inside was a fine powder.

“Really nothing special… huh?”

“Why? What is it?”

“This… smell…”

Haena looked puzzled, but Berrick buried his nose in the powder and sniffed repeatedly, unable to answer. Something about the scent was off.

After a few sniffs, Berrick’s eyes suddenly rolled back, and he collapsed forward.

Thud!

“Ah! Berrick!”

At the same time, the powder spilled all over the floor. Haena shook Berrick’s body, but he was stiffening, showing no sign of waking up.

“Ugh…”

“Ian! Ian!”

Haena stumbled backward and hurried to the parlor, flinging the door open without knocking. Romandro, Ian, and Mrs. Mereloff all turned to her with startled expressions.

“Ian! Something terrible has happened!”

“What’s all this commotion, Haena?”

“Berrick found that item—the black round compact—but the moment he smelled the powder, he collapsed.”

“What on earth is that…”

Unlike Ian, who was at a loss, Mrs. Mereloff instinctively dashed out. Haena was pushed aside and fell back, and Ian, shocked, followed after her.

“Madam? Madam!”

Her desperate footsteps echoed as she clutched her dress. Ian quickly caught up and grabbed her arm.

“Madam, please calm down for a moment…”

“Let go of me!”

“No, wait—”

A brief struggle ensued. The madam slipped on the stairs and slid down, with Ian tumbling after her. Romandro and Haena called out to Ian as they rushed after them.

“Sir Ian! Are you alright?”

“Mr. Ian! Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Madam, are you hurt anywhere?”

“Ah…”

Mrs. Mereloff was so frantic she was already climbing back up the stairs, clutching the railing. As her skirt lifted slightly, Ian caught sight of her ankle—skin that was an unnatural shade of purple.

Ian flinched for a moment, then realized it was a bruise.