Episode 89

“Unbelievable. I was so close all this time and never noticed.”

Ian chuckled to himself as he examined the ring. He hadn’t had any reason to pay close attention to his wife’s fingers or her jewelry before.

Earlier, the hand she’d signaled with was the other one, and by now, the number of trinkets laid out on the table had grown to half a dozen or more, aside from the mysterious ring.

“Is something wrong?” his wife asked, puzzled.

“Do you know what kind of gem is set in this ring?”

She looked at him with a questioning gaze, silently asking why he suddenly cared. But since she didn’t know the answer either, the question quickly turned to Count Mereloff.

“No, I don’t. The count gave it to me as a gift…”

The more Ian inspected it, the more certain he became. He was even wearing a necklace under his coat that was the same kind as the one hidden beneath the Silask flowerpot—a yellow gemstone, sunlit and finely cut.

“Count?”

“Hmm, I can’t quite recall, but I think I received it as a gift from the guild leader in the capital. It must have been the spring of our first year of marriage…”

The count tapped his temple, trying to remember the name, but only a frustrated groan escaped his lips.

“Ugh. But yes, it was definitely from the guild. I remember there was an alchemist there.”

“An alchemist?”

“Yes. When I asked him to make gold, he came up with all sorts of strange things… I can’t tell if it was a failure or intentional. But apparently, these kinds of things are popular in foreign lands beyond the Hwan Kingdom, so I kept it.”

Ian was momentarily speechless at the unexpected revelation.

An alchemist—something he had never even guessed before. Those who sought to turn metal into gold by exploring the truths of nature rather than magic. Some saw them as frauds, madmen, or even heretics trying to imitate sorcerers.

“It’s surprising that the guild has an alchemist.”

“Not so much abroad. An alchemist is basically a living precious metal factory. I’ve never met a master alchemist myself, but even these half-finished pieces look impressive. It’s common for the guild to contract with them. Didn’t you know?”

“How would I?”

“Fair enough. They probably wouldn’t be found in Bratz’s red-light district anyway.”

Count Mereloff blurted out the insult without realizing it, then flinched in surprise. Weren’t they in a situation where he was asking for a delay on the payment and even offering collateral?

His tongue had slipped badly.

“Ahem.”

Clearing his throat, the count glanced at Ian, who was still absorbed in examining the ring.

‘So, it really was the work of an alchemist. But why was it hidden in Ian’s flowerpot?’

The pieces were starting to fit together.

According to Filia, Ian had brought the flowerpot back after running an errand for the guild. It had to be the same guild the count was talking about.

“I see. Thank you for telling me.”

“The ring…”

Their eyes met—Ian’s and his wife’s. Ian felt like buying it outright, while she wouldn’t mind receiving it as a gift. If only Count Mereloff weren’t watching them.

“Is this enough as collateral?”

“Of course, madam. If you send the check by sunset tomorrow, we will hand over the valuables. I hope our mutual trust remains unshaken.”

“Hmph. I don’t know what to make of Mereloff.”

“If I offended you, I meant no harm.”

Knock knock.

“Count, all the bundles have been moved.”

At that moment, Mereloff’s servant called out weakly from outside. A full hundred bundles. Now they just had to make five or six trips by carriage to move them all.

“Very well. Let’s go. Madam, please return to the mansion first. I will finish here with Sir Ian.”

“Understood.”

As she gathered her coat, she gave Ian a slight nod. Though unintentional, it was a subtle exchange between those who shared a secret—brief and almost imperceptible.

“Sir Ian, thank you for today. You made an excellent choice for the future of Mereloff and this estate.”

“Not at all. It was a satisfying deal for me as well.”

On the surface, it was a perfectly normal farewell, but the count felt a prickling unease. Was it because of the brief silence over the ring earlier? As the count followed his wife out, he shot Ian a sharp look.

Bang!

“What’s with that look?”

As soon as the door closed, Beric grumbled irritably. Ian just smiled wryly and shrugged. He pulled out a small pouch and gathered the wife’s jewelry inside.

“By the way, those aren’t real gems, are they?”

“What’s a gem but something shiny with popular value?”

“What if the count doesn’t send the check tomorrow?”

“You worry too much. If he does, we’ll be grateful.”

Ian smiled and handed the pouch to Beric, meaning for him to keep it safe.

“We’ve drawn up the contract. If he doesn’t fulfill it, we can file a formal complaint with the palace. Most border counts hate getting involved with the palace, so to avoid that, they’ll pay up.”

And if he refuses? The case would go to trial, and they’d get the principal plus compensation. It would be like selling the gulla for more than 3,500 gold coins.

“Also, as soon as Count Mereloff and his party leave the estate, spread the word that gulla sales are permitted here. For now, only roasted gulla.”

“Only roasted?”

“Yes.”

Timing and order were crucial.

“If we start selling fresh gulla now, no one will buy the roasted kind—they’ll just buy fresh and cook it themselves. Plus, in a month, they’ll be self-sufficient and won’t need fresh gulla at all.”

But if they sell roasted gulla first, those who want to eat it will have no choice but to keep buying it.

And a month later, when Count Mereloff begins distributing gulla, selling it at a slightly lower price will bring another profit.

“Besides, even with the contract, the count will surely cause a fuss, so we need a pretext to cover ourselves.”

They had agreed not to interfere with economic activities, but if they flooded the market right after the deal, who knew how the count would react? It was bound to be exhausting.

“Roasted gulla doesn’t affect the count’s profits immediately, and later on…”

“Later on?”

Beric asked curiously, but Ian just smiled and shook his head—no intention of sharing.

“That’s enough.”

“Hey! Tell me!”

“Go help out. The sooner you leave, the better. Oh, and tell the estate residents that 10% of the roasted gulla sales will be taxed.”

“Okay, 10%. One out of every ten. I know that much now!”

How much that would bring in was uncertain. Additional revenue would depend on the residents’ sales skills. As Beric headed for the door, he paused.

“What about that Clark guy?”

“Leave him be. He has connections with the madam, so he’ll be useful somehow.”

“Don’t make him work?”

Beric’s tone showed he disliked Clark lazing around all day. Clark probably felt like he was in prison.

“Well, if you want to use him, go ahead. Just don’t let him get hurt.”

“Awesome!”

Crash bang!

What on earth were they up to?

Once Ian gave the go-ahead, Beric dashed out happily. Drawing the curtains, Ian saw the gulla sorting was nearly done.

---

“Ian!”

“Yes, Hana? Quite a commotion today as well.”

“The steward from Mereloff has come personally. He says he’s brought the payment for the gulla.”

“Ah, very well.”

With Ian’s permission, the steward entered the study. His graceful manner and steady gaze seemed even more refined than the count’s.

Creak.

“Welcome.”

“I am here to see Viscount Ian. This is the payment for the gulla that was not settled yesterday. Aside from the 1,000 gold coins prepaid, here is a check guaranteeing 2,500 coins. Please verify.”

The steward placed an envelope on a silver tray at the edge of the desk. Ian examined the check, noting the Haiman Bank’s seal, then the count’s stamp and handwritten signature.

“No issues.”

“Thank goodness.”

“I will have the valuables your wife entrusted brought here. Hana, tell Beric to fetch them.”

“Yes, Ian.”

“Please have a seat and wait. Is there something urgent?”

“No, thank you. I will take my leave then.”

The steward sat down, somewhat flustered. It was rude to get straight to business before accepting tea, but the situation was awkward.

Previously, the steward had sent a request for gulla trade under his own name. Naturally, Ian hadn’t replied, but on reflection, that was essentially revealing Mereloff’s situation to outsiders—almost like conceding the upper hand in the deal.

If the count found out…

“You’re Saman, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct. You remember.”

The steward shook off his thoughts and answered.

“Well, I’ve read your letter several times.”

Damn. He’d been caught. The steward felt his heart drop but kept a neutral expression.

“Judging by your name, you’re not a family steward. Where are you from? How long have you been working here?”

The butler responded with silence, carefully gauging Ian’s intentions. He couldn’t understand why Ian would ask such a thing.

“It’s nothing special, really. We just need a butler ourselves.”

“I intend to spend the rest of my days here in Merelrof.”

“Yeah, sure, bury your bones here if you want. But I was hoping for some training.”

“Excuse me? Training?”

The butler wondered if this was some kind of scouting attempt. After all, a butler was a key figure in any noble household, and it wasn’t uncommon for nobles to try to recruit them.

“Of course, I’d need the count’s permission first, but I wanted to let you know where we stand.”

“…I’ll discuss it with him.”

“Good. You’re a diligent and sharp fellow; teaching you would be rewarding. Naturally, the pay would be generous. If you want, I can even send back that clerk you had before. He’s got plenty of experience working in your household, so he might be of help.”

The answer was obvious before it was even asked.

The count would firmly refuse. But this wasn’t about asking the count’s permission—it was a message for the lady. After making a move, if they wanted Clark back, they’d have to lend a butler first.

“Understood. I’ll relay your message as is.”

Knock, knock.

“Ian, Beric has brought the pouch.”

“Oh, right. Hana, come over here.”

“Huh?”

Hana placed the pouch on the table, and Ian smiled as he introduced her to the butler.

“This is Hana.”

“Oh, hello.”

“…I see. Understood.”

So Hana was to be the next butler of this estate.

Unaware of the full story, Hana awkwardly fidgeted with her fingers and greeted him. The butler checked the valuables inside the pouch, then stood up.

“Well then, I’ll take my leave.”

“Thank you for your efforts.”

“Oh, I’ll see you out!”

Squeak!

Ian watched through the window as the butler left the estate. Then he chuckled softly, glancing at the 2,500 gold coin check resting on the tray.

Tap, tap, tap!

Meanwhile, the butler, Sarmon, couldn’t speed up the carriage and began moving slowly. The streets were crowded. He muttered, looking out the window.

“It’s cold, and yet everyone’s out here… what on earth are they up to?”

Curious, the butler frowned, trying to make sense of what he had just seen.