Episode 86

The count’s younger brother—the man who would become the countess’s brother-in-law—answered, dredging up memories she had long tried to forget.

“Yes. Only twice. There’s a small manor house up east of the estate. He practically lived in seclusion there. Blood doesn’t lie—their personalities are just as awful as each other.”

Hmm. Ian frowned as he pictured the count’s younger brother. If he were truly a member of a respectable family, he wouldn’t have allowed a former slave woman to become the countess without a proper wedding. Considering how this whole affair had been arranged without ceremony, Ian could only imagine how chaotic the family must be.

The Bratz family, the Merellops—both were the same.

He hoped not all nobles from a century ago were like this.

“If the count dies, wouldn’t the only person to raise questions be his younger brother?”

“That’s right. I’ve heard there are two younger sisters, but they married abroad, so no one’s seen them.”

“If he’s living in seclusion with no contact, there’s no real cause for concern. Even if the count dies, who would suspect the countess?”

At those words, the countess stopped and stared at Ian. Under the bright sunlight, he noticed her black eyes were flecked with green—a mark of a dryad’s child.

“There’s a saying: those who betray the bonds of kinship are forsaken even by the gods.”

Though she had cut down the tree, it was still her mother’s lifeline. No matter how much she tried to save her father, reality didn’t change. The scars on her palm felt like a brand of guilt.

“Do you think my life will be smooth after killing the forest’s guardian? The count’s brother, who had been quiet, might rise up, question everything, suspect me, expose me—and then I’d be sold back to the slave traders. Are these really just the worst fears in my imagination?”

Lady Merellop knew that even if she gained freedom, happiness would elude her. That was why she was stirring up this chaos—to avoid the absolute worst.

“I’m preparing for every possibility. That’s the only way to survive. The curse I brought upon myself by betraying kinship will only end when I die.”

“Well, I’m not so sure about that.”

“…What do you mean?”

“Those who betray kinship don’t even realize they’ve done so. The gods always soothe the wounds of those who relentlessly punish themselves. I don’t know the full story, but Lady, this much I can say for sure—you’re innocent, just like a fairy’s child.”

Ian had been dragged down here by the man who called himself his uncle. In the palace, family members often turned their swords on each other for power; even parents kept their children in check. In a world where even lovers couldn’t turn their backs on each other, it was no surprise.

“Innocent? Me?”

“If that offended you, I apologize. What I mean is, don’t drown yourself in self-pity. Whatever you think, that’s what will be true.”

If you believe you’re cursed, you will be. If you don’t, then you won’t be. That’s why villains can walk around unshaken—they don’t think what they do is wrong.

Lady Rien paused, clearly unaccustomed to this perspective.

“…I am cursed.”

“Yes. Then so be it.”

Ian didn’t deny it. He had never seen her cut down the fairy tree, nor did he know what hardships she had endured.

Strangely, the countess felt as if her life itself was being denied, and she couldn’t bring herself to move.

“My mother always spoke of the fairy’s curse.”

“Ah, I’ve heard of it too.”

Dryads and other nature spirits exist between promises and fulfillment. If you make a vow, you must keep it—and in return, the fairy grants a wish.

“Those who can’t rely on temples or wizards often hear rumors of fairies and head into the mountains, the sea, or the unknown.”

But something about that didn’t sit right… Ian stopped walking and looked back.

“Did you make a promise with your mother? If not, I don’t see why this should be a problem.”

“…If I’m not cursed, then why am I like this?”

“I told you—because you believe you’re cursed.”

Lady Rien felt as if someone had struck her head with a hammer. She was so confused she couldn’t think straight. Ian left her there and headed toward the room where Clark was imprisoned.

“Open the door.”

A soldier nodded shortly at Ian’s command. The lock, tightly secured, dropped open with a clink as the door creaked ajar. Clark had shaken it so much the hinges had come loose.

“Ah, Clark.”

“…Lady Rien.”

They watched each other but didn’t move, as if an invisible line had been drawn between them. Once Lady Merellop confirmed Clark was unharmed, she turned her back.

“Are you leaving just like that?”

“Of course. What business do I have here? Sir Ian bought and sold me, so I just wanted to see that I’m still alive.”

Clark didn’t follow her either. Beric glanced back and forth between them, clearly puzzled. He had expected tears and embraces, but their reaction was too matter-of-fact.

“What are those two up to? They really have some nerve.”

“You’ve been rude for a while now.”

“Must be your fault. My tongue’s frozen. Sorry about that.”

“What the hell…!”

Lady Rien shouted in displeasure, but Beric wasn’t fazed. He already knew she was a former slave and was aware of her plan to kill her husband. When Beric stuck out his tongue teasingly, she closed her eyes as if she’d seen something she shouldn’t.

“Beric, show some respect to the lady.”

“Are you kidding? Do you know how much I’ve suffered?”

“You should’ve rested better.”

“That’s different. I had a bit of a mental shock.”

While Ian and Beric bickered, Lady Rien slipped away into another parlor, avoiding them.

“Um, Sir Ian, what about the door?”

The soldier glanced awkwardly at the open door. Clark seemed to have lost the will to come out after seeing the countess’s attitude. Ian had no interest in meddling in someone else’s love life.

“Close it again and keep watch.”

“Yes, Sir Ian.”

“Clark. The Count Merellop is at the manor. When I return, I’ll decide your fate. It’s best you don’t cause any trouble.”

“……”

The door creaked shut, but Clark gave no reply. After confirming Lady Rien was sitting dazed on the parlor sofa, Ian ordered Hayna to guard the door.

“She looks out of it. Is she alright?”

“Probably has a lot on her mind. Bring some refreshments and keep a close eye on her. I need to go help Romandro.”

Romandro looked utterly drained from dealing with Count Merellop alone. When Ian returned, it was as if the withered leaves around him had come back to life. At his feet lay a bundle of torn papers.

“Excuse me. How far did you get?”

“Perfect timing. This is the last page. The revised parts are in dark brown ink—please check.”

Ian read the still-wet documents and apologized to the count, who looked exhausted from revising the contract.

“Count Merellop, I’m sorry, but since we don’t have an official seal yet, we’ll have to substitute with signatures.”

“Very well. I just finished revising that part. Where’s the lady?”

“She’s resting in another parlor, having some refreshments.”

Without a word, the count stood and headed outside. When he was out of sight, Romandro slid down from the sofa with a sigh.

“Such a stubborn old man.”

“Was it tough?”

“Don’t even ask. I’ve never met anyone like him.”

“Thank you for your hard work.”

“But at least I defended the price well. I expected a big cut. I asked them to package the gulas differently, and I gave permission for that myself.”

Ian smiled at Romandro’s satisfied assessment. Finally, the moment to sell 100 gulas for 3,500 gold coins was within reach.

‘Still, why is he taking so long?’

After a while, Count Merellop returned, straightening his disheveled sleeve. No one else noticed, but Ian caught a strand of a woman’s hair caught on one of his buttons. Apparently, he couldn’t resist raising a hand in someone else’s manor.

Such grace, indeed…

“Hmm. Alright. Have you checked everything?”

Ian handed over the pen to finalize the contract.

“Yes. No issues. Then I shall sign, Count.”

“Very well. The gulas will be taken today.”

“Have you brought the gold coins?”

“I can give you 1,000 coins now, and the rest will be transferred through Haiman Bank. I’ll just run to the bank while the gulas are being sorted.”

The count checked his watch and muttered. 1,000 gold coins—it seemed he had calculated perfectly, assuming ten coins per bundle.

Without hesitation, Ian signed, and the count followed suit, pulling out his seal from his pocket to complete the deal.

“Thank you, Count. Today’s transaction will be a meaningful moment for both estates.”

“Hmm. Yes. Let’s begin sorting the gulas.”

“Outside, gather the workers. We’ll be packing 100 bundles.”

“Bring the sacks! The sturdy, stretchable kind! And get the boxes from the carriage!”

As soon as the contract was signed, the servants of the mansion bustled about in a frenzy. Following the count’s orders, they began unloading crate after crate from the carriages. Three strong men struggled to carry a load of a thousand gold coins, divided among four wagons.

“Whoa!”

When they opened the boxes, a dazzling golden light spilled out, causing the servants to freeze in place. Then, flustered, they glanced over at Ian.

“I’ve never seen so many golden nuggets like this, aside from corn kernels. Wow…”

“W-what should we do with all this?”

Ian checked his watch and gave instructions. The count seemed preoccupied, dragging his own men through the Gula warehouse in a frenzy.

“Load the crates back onto the carriages. We’re heading straight to the bank. Everyone else, help Count Mereloff’s men move a hundred bundles of Gula.”

“A hundred bundles?!”

“Did I hear that right?”

“They’ll be taking as much as they want from the stock, so there’s no need to worry about the effort.”

The locals from the Mereloff estate would handle selecting the best and appropriately sized bundles. The servants only needed to supervise and guide the process.

“The bank, you say…?”

“Is there another bank in Bariel? The Haiman Bank.”

At Ian’s firm command, the servants loaded the crates back onto the wagons. Soon, they left the chaotic mansion behind and headed out through the front gates.