Chapter 40
While Sabine began to descend the stairs with a look of overwhelming emotion, Charlotte stepped toward the railing. A cloud of nobles gathered behind her.
“Is that an Akhal-Teke?”
“Looking at that golden mane, it must be! You can’t buy a horse like that even with all the money in the world!”
“He must be giving the Young Lady the horse he received as a state gift from Isas.”
Charlotte smiled as she listened to the whispers of admiration from the nobles behind her.
Standing at the railing, surrounded by the nobility like a queen amidst the clouds, she was a sight that Count Jerome could not tear his eyes away from.
At that moment, Sabine, who had practically flown down the stairs, ran toward them while clutching her skirts.
“Father!”
Count Jerome kissed his daughter on the forehead. The girl, who looked exactly like Charlotte, gazed up at the King’s gift as if possessed before tentatively stroking its mane.
“I told you I wanted one of these. I never imagined you would actually give it to me! Oh my goodness…”
Count Jerome smiled at his daughter, then turned his gaze back.
Charlotte was still standing there, smiling.
A woman who was the most beautiful in the world, one who was never satisfied unless everyone was beneath her feet.
The mother of his daughter.
Yet, a woman who never became his wife.
Count Jerome gave his daughter another light kiss on the forehead and whispered, “Happy birthday, Sabine.”
The Count affectionately stroked his daughter’s hair, then took her hand and walked toward the building.
“Let us go inside. I am worried you might catch a cold.”
When they reached the stairs leading to the balcony, the Count sent his daughter up first.
“Go on up. I have a bit of business to attend to on the first floor before I join you.”
“Will you be quick?”
Sabine smiled brightly and ascended the stairs, while the Count walked toward a door set into the side of the staircase.
As he entered the dim hallway, someone emerged soundlessly from the shadows. A presence shrouded in darkness. Every time he saw this figure, a wave of dread washed over him. Then again, it wasn’t as if the man’s other guises were any different.
Suppressing his unease, the Count asked nonchalantly, “How did it go?”
“Just as I told you. It was a massacre.”
The Count clicked his tongue softly.
“Those men were greedy, but they were efficient. I shall have to find a new set of useful tools.”
“Don’t worry. As long as there is money, there are plenty of men willing to work.”
“The entire Beta Mercenary Corps… and truly in a single day?”
“I have told you several times that such a feat is nothing.”
“Did you tie up the loose ends properly?”
“Do not worry. I killed the mercenary leader just before he arrived, and I recovered all the sensitive documents.”
The Count let out a small sigh.
“You have done well.”
“By the way, I took a look at the guests while I was here, and there are far too many people invited solely by the Young Lady. There are unverified singers and actors mixed in; it wouldn’t hurt to be cautious.”
“She said she wanted to invite them for her birthday, so how could I stop her? Do not worry; she is a child who will know to be careful once she enters the palace. That aside, have you discovered anything about the woman said to be traveling to the capital with the Marquis?”
The figure in the darkness remained silent for a moment before speaking.
“Well. Nothing significant yet. If there is anything meaningful, I will share it with you first.”
The Count was also silent for a moment before changing the subject.
“Would you care to stay for a meal?”
The dark figure turned away as if knowing the invitation was merely a formality. Then, just before exiting through the secretly opened door, he added a final word and vanished.
“It seems the Marquis has returned to the capital.”
Left alone in the darkness, Count Jerome took a long, slow breath.
“……”
The distant sounds of laughter and music reached him.
Reminding himself that today was his only daughter’s birthday, he walked back out. As he climbed the solitary staircase, the spires of the Royal Palace became visible beyond the city shrouded in darkness.
The Royal Palace.
Why was it that whenever he looked at the palace, that damned statue standing before it was the first thing he thought of?
When would that statue finally cease to mean anything to him?
Just when.
The veins on the back of the Count’s hand bulged as he clenched his fist tightly.
Around that time, a carriage entered the roundabout in front of the Luxen Royal Palace, guarded by the double-headed eagles.
Oscar, who had been reviewing documents throughout the journey, tossed them aside and leaned his head back against the seat.
In front of the Royal Palace, where the gas lamps were adjusted to be exceptionally bright, the Royal Guard stood like poplar trees, maintaining a strict watch.
The view shifted with the movement of the carriage. Oscar’s gaze traveled upward.
“……”
His father stood there as well.
Come rain or snow, holding a long sword.
Oscar stared blankly at his father’s expressionless face before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.
Simon, sitting opposite him, reflexively looked at Oscar when he smelled the smoke, then turned his gaze out the window. He saw the back of the late Marquis’s statue. When he shifted his eyes back to Oscar, the man was leaning his elbow on the open window frame. The night breeze ruffled hair that was as dark as the night itself.
Beyond the acrid scent of tobacco, it felt as though the smell of blood lingered.
The metallic tang of blood never truly left him.
Then again, when had it ever? Oscar’s nights were always like this. Then, for a fleeting moment, he thought of the owner of a scent that reminded him of lush greenery. A woman whose tracks and actions were suspicious beyond measure, yet who had occupied a corner of his mind for the past few days. Perhaps the momentum he’d spent searching for the key had simply transferred to her. Occasionally, he even found himself dwelling on that scent.
The woman had asked when he was coming, and he was currently heading toward the mansion he had likely fashioned out of death itself.
At this hour, would she be asleep?
Or would she be hesitating to greet him, just as she had at the hotel?
Sentiments that were uncharacteristically inefficient for him swirled in his mind.
He clicked his tongue in self-mockery and let his idle thoughts drift away with the acrid smoke.
Simon quietly looked away. He considered looking at more documents, but by then, the carriage had nearly reached the mansion. As he closed the file, the sound of iron gates opening echoed from a distance. It seemed the Wolves were opening the gates in advance for their returning master.
The carriage passed quickly through the gates.
The forest surrounding the mansion welcomed its master back with the sound of rustling leaves. A wind that had grown cooler in the shadows of the trees brushed against them.
Oscar stared at the forest with indifferent eyes. He took a deep drag of what remained of his cigarette, exhaled slowly, and then the carriage crossed the boundary of the woods. In the distance, he saw the mansion’s Wolves waiting for him. As the carriage reached the entrance of the Main Building, those lined up in a row bowed their heads respectfully.
Oscar discarded the cigarette butt in the ashtray and stepped out of the carriage.
“Your Excellency, you have returned.”
Barbara bowed deeply.
Oscar passed by the bowing Barbara without a word. She waited for him to pass, then straightened her back and followed him. However, after only a few steps, her master stopped.
The Wolves, as if by prearrangement, raised their heads all at once; their numbers were far greater than usual. Oscar slowly scanned the gathered group.
“Are you perhaps looking for Abel?”
Oscar shifted his eyes to look at Barbara. As his gaze landed on her, several of the Wolves let out the breath they had been holding.
“He went out with the Young Lady this morning and has not yet returned. Since there has been no special word from the backup team, there is likely nothing to worry about.”
Oscar shoved his hands into his pockets and asked, “What time is it?”
“It is 21:58.”
“I heard she usually comes home by six and goes to bed before ten.”
Saying it out loud made it sound amusing.
At their master’s smirk, the tension among the agents, who had been warily watching him, melted away as if it had never existed. Someone plucked up the courage to speak.
“Actually, we were just talking about that. He used to show up at six looking half-dead, but for some reason, there’s been no word even at this hour.”
Oscar looked back at the speaker, but the smirk still hung on his lips.
“I mean, isn’t it obvious?”
“They might be having a grand old time in bed right now.”
As he made a crude gesture, the Wolves erupted into boisterous laughter. Simon furrowed his brow in disgust, while Barbara remained expressionless. Oscar, letting out a thin, sharp laugh, began walking into the mansion.
“I told her I’d stop calling her a gold digger if she succeeded. I wonder if she actually will.”
The agents laughed even harder at his murmur, and Oscar walked with a leisurely stride into the home he hadn’t seen in a while.
The house, which felt like an embodiment of a lavish death, was filled with a year-round chill.
“Since you said nothing after my last report, I left the Young Lady’s room as it was,” Barbara began reporting on things she hadn’t even been asked about as she followed him.
“There has been nothing particularly suspicious about her behavior within the mansion so far. She does not go where she is told not to. When I told her not to open the door leading from the library to Your Excellency’s bedroom, she didn’t even touch the handle.”
The image of the timid woman appeared vividly in his mind once more. He could easily imagine her not even glancing at the handle, let alone touching it. Although, for someone so timid, it seemed something was about to happen in the room across from his bedroom very soon.
