Episode 81
“The culprit is…”
Among those who rushed over at the servants’ screams was one of Romandro’s men—the very one who had killed Colin during the Memelrof trading caravan’s journey to Sheiron.
“Sir Ian, the culprit caused trouble in the Sheiron Mountains.”
“The culprit? Are you sure?”
“I saw it with my own eyes. Even saw him kill Colin.”
Ian looked again at Lady Memelrof. For a moment, she seemed startled by Ian’s keen gaze, but then her voice turned sharp with irritation. Still, her hand never left Clark’s shoulder.
“I told you, I hate everything about Memelrof!”
“So you interfered with the trading caravan?”
“Don’t expect thanks—what kind of nonsense is this?”
“He was the one who charged first. He’s still alive, so stop making a fuss.”
At that, the lady noticed Clark’s faint breath. Slowly, her own breathing steadied as well.
“How did you know Colin was one of ours?”
“There was a mass disappearance at an illegal gambling den. That, combined with news of your attack, Sir Ian. One of their workers went missing and then reappeared—it was only natural to suspect.”
“And the count?”
“What do I know? That old stone-faced man. He didn’t give a single order about investigating the incident. He probably doesn’t even know Colin worked there.”
It was as expected, but even more absurd than anticipated. Count Memelrof had completely ignored Ian’s surprise attack, despite it being his own vassals’ doing.
“Are you two lovers?”
“…No, nothing like that.”
“Hm. Is that so?”
Judging by their tense atmosphere, no one would believe them. Romandro just watched cautiously, curious about what was going on. Ian nodded, signaling he had made up his mind.
“Move him to an empty room.”
“Yes, Sir Ian.”
At Ian’s command, soldiers lifted Clark and supported him. Lady Memelrof looked flustered but dared not resist. If the fainted servant who had accompanied her on the outing was found unconscious, it would surely raise suspicion at the manor.
“I can’t exactly say I knocked him out, can I?”
“…I haven’t said a word.”
“Good. Then, madam, let’s get our stories straight.”
Ian smiled and extended his hand. The lady watched Clark’s retreating figure disappear through the door, then took Ian’s hand and stood. Ian carefully untied the bindings on her wrist.
“You want freedom, and I want tribute. But as long as the count’s brother stands in the way, there’s no guarantee I’ll be compensated later.”
If Lady Memelrof’s schemes were exposed in any way, it would only spell trouble. She could be accused of aiding or abetting the count’s murder.
She understood what Ian was implying.
“…You mean the Gula trade, don’t you?”
Ian smiled in confirmation. He’d sensed it earlier—perhaps from a hard life, her wit and calculation were sharp, almost startlingly so.
“Yes. I want to pull as much profit as possible from there, first.”
“I’ll be the front for it.”
“More than that, I want you to help persuade the count. Honestly, Memelrof has no real solutions right now. The Hawan Kingdom’s roads are blocked, Sheiron’s closed off. They’re practically starving.”
“By the way, speaking of which, was it you, Sir Ian, who dealt with the Hawan Kingdom bandits? If so, I think it was a bit excessive.”
“No. That wasn’t our doing.”
“Then it’s a blessing from the gods. Lucky you.”
The lady rubbed her sore wrist and narrowed her eyes. Then she ordered the servant behind her.
“Bring two dry cloths. Clean ones.”
“Huh? Ah…”
Ian raised his eyebrows, signaling assent. The servant quickly bowed and stepped back. It seemed they intended to prepare the drug powder again.
“So, until the deal is done, I hope you’ll cooperate as much as possible.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ve already waited through several winters. What’s a few more days?”
“Waited through winters?”
“Yes.”
Ian suddenly felt the depth of her hatred. Winter was the season of death—when many perished, and snow and wind made funerals difficult.
It was the perfect time to quietly bury Count Memelrof’s death.
“Take good care of Clark.”
“…Of course. Oh, and when you leave, I’ll give you some Gula. You can say you sold Clark and turned him into Gula.”
It wasn’t ideal, but for now, it was the most plausible plan. There was no need to explain why the servant fainted, and since they’d paid for him and brought him back, Count Memelrof would try to make the most of it.
In the process, he’d come to understand Gula’s true value firsthand.
In market terms, it was like a ‘taste test.’
‘And if things go wrong, Lady Memelrof will be a useful hostage to hold onto.’
Ian thought this through and quickly gave instructions to Haena. The sun was setting fast. Even if they left now, the lady would only reach the manor in the dead of night. Any later, and suspicion might arise.
“Haena, bring the small pouch of Gula to the front gate.”
“Yes, master.”
“Prepare the carriage! The lady is returning.”
“Yes! Prepare the carriage!”
As everyone went outside to ready the carriage, the servant who brought the dry cloths hesitated, reaching for the glass lid. The lady firmly brushed it away.
“I’ll do it.”
Covering her nose and mouth with one hand, she carefully transferred the powder with the other. Since Beric fainted just from the smell, the drug’s potency was easy to imagine.
“But if she dies quickly, it’ll raise a lot of suspicion.”
“I told you, one dose won’t kill her. When mixed with the liquid, it neutralizes so she won’t just collapse like the culprit did.”
Instead, she’d experience a dreamlike state, unable to distinguish reality from illusion. Like being possessed by a nightmare, the side effect slowly drained her strength through sleep. Of course, that was the point for the lady.
Click.
She closed the compact neatly and tucked it into her pocket. Then, as if done with business, she strode down the hall. Ian followed, seeing her off.
“We probably won’t see Clark for a long time. Are you sure you don’t want to say goodbye?”
“She’ll manage. And… we’re not that close.”
Ian just nodded.
“My people will escort you to the manor. Please be careful.”
“Let’s hope for good news, Sir Ian.”
She kissed the back of his hand lightly before closing the carriage door. Ian’s thoughts drifted to the bruise blooming around her ankle. If she returned like this, would Lady Memelrof be safe tonight?
“Lady.”
“I’m fine. For now.”
Ian tried to say more, but she shook her head. He’d thought she bore no resemblance to her mother, but every time she endured her husband’s beatings, she unwittingly felt the blood of the dryads within her.
“…For now, I can bear it.”
“Let’s go.”
Hiiiiiing!
Screech.
The lady glanced back through the small window, exchanging final farewells with Ian. Romandro rubbed his face with a handkerchief as he watched the carriage leave the manor.
“What on earth is going on…?”
“Instead of ignoring the compact we saw today, the lady agreed to support the Gula trade.”
“That compact—is it poison? What about Beric!?”
“They say one dose won’t kill him. He’s probably having a good dream.”
“Eh? Really? He was cursing and yelling earlier.”
“If it’s Beric, I think he knows what a good dream means.”
Ian smiled and entered the manor. From upstairs came heavy thudding noises. At this hour, there was only one person who’d make such a ruckus.
“Open up! What are you trying to do?!”
Bang! Crash!
Clark’s desperate cries leaked through the door. It sounded like the door might break at any moment, and the servants backed away nervously. Eventually, the warriors of the Cheonryeo tribe stepped forward reluctantly.
“Should we knock him out again?”
“It’s so noisy in the middle of the night, seriously.”
“Enough. I’ll talk to him.”
Ian raised a hand to stop them and approached the door. Taking advantage of the brief silence, he tried to explain the situation to Clark.
“Your name is Clark, right?”
“…Sir Ian?”
Rattle!
But Clark’s frantic wails came first. Grabbing the doorknob and shaking it, he was almost crying as he begged. The last thing he remembered was the lady bound and helpless—it was no wonder.
“Sir Ian, please, please spare her. Lady Rien did all this for us. Without her, more than a dozen of us would already be dead at the master’s hands…”
Every time the count beat the servants mercilessly, the lady willingly took their place. Everyone in the manor knew this. Though not warm by nature, everyone was grateful to her.
If it had been otherwise, this affection would have reached the count’s ears long ago. The lady would have been torn limb from limb by now.
“Is that how my wife behaved?”
“Yes, yes… I swear to God. So please, I beg you, open the door just so I can see her face and know she’s safe…”
“Your wife left the mansion just moments ago and has returned home.”
“…Is that true?”
“Yes. Since your life is the bargaining chip in this tangled web of interests, just stay calm and wait quietly. Any disturbance will only bring trouble upon your wife.”
From inside, only the sound of quiet sobbing could be heard. Ian didn’t expect an answer; he simply ordered the servants to guard the door carefully.
The atmosphere in the Mereloff mansion was tense. The lady, who rarely left the house, had not returned even after sunset.
Though the count never mentioned his wife aloud, the silent, deadly tension in the air was palpable.
“Ah, there!”
A faint light flickered in the distance through the darkness. The silhouette of a carriage drawn by two horses appeared. The servants hurried outside to greet the lady, who soon stepped down looking somewhat weary.
“Why are you so late?”
“And Clark? Is he all right?”
“Have you eaten?”
“Ma’am, the master….”
The servants were clearly worried and about to voice their concerns, but the master’s sudden appearance silenced them instantly.
“Lien.”
“I’m sorry. I’m very late.”
“I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“There’s a lot to explain.”
“Right now! Tell me.”
The count’s shout tore through the air, causing the servants to shrink back. But the lady smiled calmly and shook her pocket, as if to say, “Look at this.”
“I sold Clark and brought back Gula. Sir Ian refused to lower the price, so I was busy haggling.”
The count, who had been boiling with anger, paused for a moment.
Lady Mereloff’s visit had been a strategic move to set the stage for the Gula deal, not the actual transaction. Yet here she was, returning with Gula in hand.
“Honey?”
Lady Mereloff smiled brightly. She knew exactly what the first step of Ian’s plan—the bait—was.
“Shall we try a little taste? There’s much to discuss, and this will make it easier.”