# Chapter 27
At the composed voice, the image of that pale body tangled with Kirhin flashed through my mind, flushing my face with heat. While I hesitated, Laurel pushed the door open and stepped into the room.
I silently watched her as she swept her eyes across the room. Catching sight of the wide-open window, Laurel quickly walked over.
When I asked plainly, she shut the window and turned back to me with a beaming smile.
It did not sound like a simple greeting. Undaunted by my silence, Laurel noticed the book resting on the bed and stepped over to pick it up.
Her eyes shifted from flipping through the pages back to me. A curious glint seemed to shimmer in her brown irises.
Perhaps contempt showed on my face. For an instant, Laurel cast her eyes down as if stung. Gently caressing the book’s cover, she let out a bitter laugh.
At my cynical retort, Laurel let out a dry scoff and slumped onto the mattress, making the bed bob up and down beneath her weight.
My expression gave her all the answer she needed. Smirking as if she understood, Laurel spread her arms wide and threw herself flat across the bed. A quiet, measured voice drifted out.
“…”
Her eyes drifted down from the ceiling to look at me, her angular features curving into a slack, tired curve.
“So don’t look at me with such disgust. When you look at me like that, it makes me want to die.”
Faced with the quiet melancholy settling in her gaze, I was at a loss for words. After a moment of hesitation, Laurel drew a short breath and lightly sat up from the bed. Her long face was framed by the calm smile I knew so well.
A small, rough hand came to rest gently on my shoulder. Laurel added softly,
Even after Laurel closed the door and left, I could not move for a long time. Tears had suddenly burst forth, without any clear reason.
Sobbing without knowing why I wept, I sank to the floor right where I stood. Deep into the night, the tears would not cease.A banquet was underway at Balshuin Castle. The current Count Balshuin had three daughters, and today was the second birthday of the youngest.
The count was not a man of extravagant tastes, but an assembly of dozens of noble families could hardly be anything less than splendid. Furthermore, Balshuin Castle was the largest fortress in the realm after the royal palace, radiating a terrifyingly imposing air simply by its presence.
Flush with drink, men and women alike raised their goblets. Every gaze was fixed on the man seated on the highest chair.
Dark, reddish-brown skin and deep gray hair were the hallmarks of House Balshuin. Stories that their lineage traced back to barbaric warriors persisted because of their immense stature and ferocious strength. Though barely thirty, he looked more powerful and grim than any man in the realm.
When Beitram Balshuin, the current count, was a boy, he had gotten lost on a hunt deep in the forest and found himself face-to-face with a bear alone.
Hearing the beast’s roars, people envisioned a gruesome scene and frantically searched for the boy, the sole heir of the count’s house. Yet what met their eyes defied all their grim assumptions.
In the midst of the verdant woods, drenched from head to toe in warm blood, Beitram was tearing the bear’s belly open with an expressionless face.
His father had shown little surprise at the news that Beitram was found safe.
He had merely uttered those callous words.
Beitram inherited every drop of his father’s cold cruelty, martial prowess, and business acumen. If anything, he surpassed him.
He never tolerated anyone who got in the way of House Balshuin’s ambitions. Whatever excuse he had to drum up, he ruthlessly crushed them. The foremost casualty had been House Orr.
When the Kingdom of Edmus was founded by uniting the fractured continent, four great houses had performed distinguished services. Two merely clung to the glory of the past to survive, while the other two grew ever more prosperous. Those two were House Orr and House Balshuin.
The most lucrative business in Edmus was the import trade in furs and spices, and the merchant company handling that trade belonged to House Orr. Unsatisfied with merely controlling trade routes with Fremont, Beitram resolved to seize that immense fortune.
He began by marrying Cecily, daughter of Duke Orr. The royal family had pressured the ducal house, unwilling to see the power of both houses unite, but Beitram abducted Cecily and took her by force. After spreading rumors of the deed across the kingdom, he boldly stepped forward and declared:
Duke Orr was displeased with Beitram, but the deed was already done. Once the rumor that she had spent the night with Beitram spread, Cecily would never find a proper match unless she married him.
On top of that, however he had charmed her, Cecily was genuinely infatuated with Beitram. Unable to break the will of a daughter determined to marry him, Duke Orr submitted a formal petition to the throne, and the royal family had no pretext to refuse.
Yet in the end, no alliance of the two houses ever came to be. From the moment the wedding ended, House Orr began walking a path of ruin as though stricken by a curse.
The year after the wedding, Duke Orr, advanced in years, lost his life to an ambush by bandits on his way back from inspecting his estate—a death no one questioned at the time.
Whispers began only when the grief-stricken eldest son, who had inherited the title, succumbed to an unknown illness and died three years later.
Cecily never knew that her eldest brother had quarreled with her husband over the fur and spice concessions; moreover, she was pregnant with their third child at the time and completely overwhelmed. Beitram had carefully arranged things so she would remain isolated from the world’s affairs, occupied solely with bearing and raising children.
Assuming that his seeking out her body as if he could barely wait until she gave birth, only to get her pregnant again, was mere affection, she was the very picture of a naive, sheltered lady, and Beitram knew this well.
And so he consoled her as she held their children in weak, weary arms from successive pregnancies, weeping over the misfortunes befalling her house.
Yet the tragedies did not stop there. The second brother, preparing to inherit the title while putting the house in order, was found dead in the forest one day while out on a stroll.
There were no visible wounds; he looked as peaceful as someone who had simply drifted off to sleep. However, the servant who first discovered the body testified that there had been foam around his lips, and rumors of poison began to stir.
Suspicion naturally fell upon Beitram. Around that time, he had frequently been spotted meeting with fur merchants. Everyone knew House Balshuin coveted House Orr’s trade.
Perhaps the eldest son’s death had been poison, too.
Beitram intends to wipe out all the heirs of House Orr and seize the business rights.
How tragic that the blind daughter, oblivious to her family’s misery, is toyed with in the embrace of her enemy.
Yet not a soul could formally raise the issue. The servant who had spread the rumors of poison was brutally murdered shortly after, and his house—along with his wife and young children—was burned to ashes.
