Translator: Nox

Chapter 2

“Baron Howard will be arriving tomorrow evening.”

Vanessa stopped carving her duck and looked at her uncle, who sat at the head of the table, in bewilderment. Her uncle, who had been dragged home at dawn by casino guards, still reeked of a mixture of whiskey and vomit.

As if his throat were parched, he gulped down wine like water before letting out a loud belch. It had been exactly three years since they last saw each other, as she had only returned yesterday afternoon after graduating from St. Louis Boarding School, yet her uncle seemed not to have changed in the slightest.

Vanessa quietly lowered her gaze back to her plate.

“Will he be staying long?”

“I expect so. Since the Baroness passed away a few months ago.”

Ah, that poor Dowager. Vanessa had read about the tragedy that befell the unfortunate woman in the newspaper a few days ago. She had been struck by a carriage while crossing the street. The papers reported it as a singular, tragic accident, but the testimonies from those who witnessed it firsthand told a different story.

They said the Baroness had been fleeing in terror, unable to endure the cane her lame husband wielded against her. Those who saw the moment she leaped in front of the carriage whispered that it looked as though the woman were seeking salvation through death. She didn’t know which version was the truth, but either was enough to ruin Baron Howard’s reputation.

“You’ll need new clothes to properly receive the old man,” her uncle said, pulling his plate toward him after draining the last of the wine the servant held. “Use the checkbook. But keep it to a minimum. Do not be wasteful.”

She stared at her uncle, puzzled. While the Baroness’s death was a great pity, why did she need new clothes to welcome the Baron? What did he have to do with her?

Her thoughts, which had been following a logical path, came to a sudden halt with a sharp realization. Vanessa’s pale hands trembled slightly as they gripped her silver cutlery.

“Are you saying… now…”

“Yes. He says he’s looking for a second wife in haste. It’s no small task managing an estate without a mistress, after all.”

Wyatt spoke while scooping up a piece of fatty duck and chewing it loudly. The red meat was torn to shreds without any sense of decorum under his sharp fork and knife.

“Of course, I have no intention of marrying you off immediately. If someone offers better terms than that old man, I’ll give them priority. That means you’ll have to meet as many men as possible, so you’ll be quite busy for the time being.”

Her uncle’s implication was clear. A trade. A marriage trade, and the only commodity on the counter was herself. Her stomach churned, though she had barely eaten a few bites.

Vanessa caught a glimpse of the maids’ uneasy faces and bit her lip. It was unwise to oppose the tyrant of Gloucester Castle—both for her sake and for theirs.

Drawing a steady breath, Vanessa spoke as if nothing were wrong.

“If he’s arriving tomorrow, his visit will overlap with my own guests.”

“Your guests?”

Wyatt looked up as if hearing this for the first time. His face, a mix of suspicion and wariness, demanded an explanation.

“The twins from the Marquis of Winchester’s family, as I mentioned in my last letter.”

Vanessa continued quickly, suppressing her anxiety.

“They plan to go on a Grand Tour after graduation, but they wanted to stay here for about a month to visit friends first. You gave your permission last time… Do you remember?”

A look of hesitation crossed Wyatt’s face, which had seemed ready to refuse a moment ago. It was the magic invoked by the name ‘Winchester.’

“…Fine. Do as you like with that.”

The Earl replied begrudgingly, waving a finger glistening with duck fat in a threatening warning.

“But don’t even dream of neglecting our guest just because of your friends.”

“Of course.”

Satisfied with her compliant answer, Wyatt reached for the next course. After that, no further conversation followed, only the clinking of silverware. Vanessa rose from her seat the moment a young footman brought out the dessert plates. She had stayed long enough not to provoke her uncle’s temper.

“I’ll take my leave first.”

As expected, Wyatt merely nodded without even looking her way. The last thing she saw before leaving the dining room was her uncle pouring whiskey over his custard cream. Vanessa walked calmly until she reached the stairs, then quickened her pace, and by the time she passed through the entrance hall, she began to run.

She had to get to the garden right now. That was the only place in Gloucester Castle where she could compose her emotions without being overheard.

“My Lady.”

Harold the butler blocked Vanessa’s path as she panted for breath. The old man’s wrinkled eyes sharply scanned her pale face.

“Are you finished with your meal already?”

Harold, who had a long scar running from his left eyebrow to his chin, was a butler Wyatt had hired personally seven years ago. He was a man who looked more like a gang enforcer than a seasoned servant. Vanessa shook her head lightly.

“I’ve lost my appetite, Harold. More importantly, are the preparations for my friends complete?”

While the butler observed her slowly, Vanessa kept her hands behind her back and maintained a steady smile. Finding nothing particularly amiss, Harold pursed his lips in dissatisfaction.

“Your friends will be staying in the west wing to avoid crossing paths with the other guests. Two bedrooms have been prepared.”

“Are there more guests coming?”

“The Earl is expecting several more guests. They will be staying in the east wing. The Earl has instructed that you must attend the dinners while the guests are in residence.”

Vanessa hesitated for a moment before forcing a smile.

“…If my uncle said so, I must follow. I understand.”

“Oh, and one more thing.”

Harold stopped Vanessa again as she tried to pass. When she looked at him inquisitively, he shook his head firmly.

“Do not go out to the garden for the time being. The ground is uneven due to the electrical wiring work. New laborers have also come in from outside.”

“New laborers?”

“We plan to renovate the abandoned annex, the hunting grounds, and the gardens one by one.”

Vanessa blinked in surprise. Her uncle spent money lavishly on his own entertainment but would begrudge even a single penny for anything else. He had sold off all the family’s tenant lands; where did he get the money to…?

“We will prioritize the areas the guests will frequent. The east wing drawing room, the hunting grounds, the front courtyard, and the fishing grounds come first, followed by the west wing. The Rose Garden will be last, as it’s on the far outskirts and rarely visited.”

As Harold counted them off on his fingers, he suddenly opened a window and frowned. Faint shouts were growing increasingly distinct. It seemed a fight had broken out among the laborers.

Men were rolling on the ground, kicking up dust and grabbing each other by the collars. As they tumbled and slammed into a wagon piled high with materials, the items stacked on top wobbled precariously as if to collapse.

“Whoa! It’s going down!”

“Catch it, catch it!”

The laborers, who had been chuckling and watching the fight with interest, finally shifted their heavy frames and swarmed toward the wagon. Watching the scene, Harold sighed and shook his head.

“It seems this summer won’t be a quiet one.”

Vanessa silently agreed with the butler’s biting commentary. This summer promised to be exceptionally long and noisy.

---

The faces of the soldiers filling the old station were bright with the excitement of a long-awaited leave. Trains arriving from various regions stopped briefly, sweeping up groups of men before hurrying off to their respective destinations.

Theodore stepped out of the busy flow and took a letter handed to him by a messenger. As he turned the pages, the young officer’s straight brow gradually furrowed. Sergeant River Ross, keenly sensing his superior’s displeasure, asked cautiously.

“Is it bad news?”

“No.”

The answer was casual. Simultaneously, the letter was ruthlessly crumpled in his large hand. River Ross looked up at his superior with a worried expression, looking as if he’d swallowed a frog. If that letter had been just another one of those common love letters that flooded the Admiralty’s mailbox every day, it wouldn’t have been this distressing just to watch him read it.

Most of those love letters were tossed into the trash unopened anyway. And this one didn’t have the Ingram royal seal on the envelope, either.

“The letters a soldier receives are all much the same. Asking if I’m doing well, if I’ve sustained any damage to my body. Things like that.”

“But for that kind of letter, you look quite…”

“Hm?”

“Displeased.”

Theodore gave a short laugh and dropped the crumpled letter into the palms of the messenger, who was waiting politely with both hands out. Along with it went a shiny gold coin.

He could have brushed it off with some other excuse, but his non-commissioned officer always acted directly, as if he didn’t know the meaning of tact. In Theodore’s world, that was a rather admirable quality. A consistent man, stubborn to a fault. He was a character far more trustworthy than someone calculating and frivolous.

“My grandmother is naturally quite greedy. It seems she still hasn’t given up her lingering desires.”

“Was it a letter regarding a marriage prospect…?”

“It’s something I have to brace myself for every leave, like an annual event. Nagging me to get married, get engaged, or at least start dating.”

Even as he spoke the words, he felt a growing sense of weariness. It wasn’t that he disliked meeting women, but the problem was that he had no desire for a serious relationship. He had abandoned any expectation of maintaining a normal romance or a proper marriage at the age of eight.

On the very day his biological mother died while attempting to elope with the family driver.

There was nothing as horrific and hollow as the word ‘love.’ Theodore had realized that truth earlier than most. His parents had married after six years of dating and were each other’s first loves, yet the end was a hatred worse than that of strangers, followed by death.

“It seems the Dowager Duchess of the Battenberg family is determined to push her grandson, who survived the war, into the royal family.”

Theodore felt the lingering trace of his cold sneer as he put a slender cigarette to his lips. He quite favored these cheap cigarettes issued as supplies to soldiers. Theodore suppressed the urge to light it immediately and bit down on the end between his teeth.

It was an exceptionally clear day. Sunlight streamed through the station’s massive windows, and the cry of seagulls could be heard in the distance. After gazing at the dazzling scenery for a moment, Theodore adjusted his white naval cap and asked.

“Sergeant River Ross. What do you plan to do during your summer leave?”