Translator: Nox
42.Damnable Patek
November 11, 2023
Edgar's yacht, the Catalina, safely arrived at Lemonde Port.
It was 6:00 AM on the 16th.
They waited for the train in the waiting room of Lemonde Station, having sandwiches and coffee for breakfast.
The train, which arrived at exactly 7:00 AM, reached Leiden Central Station at 4:00 PM.
Everything was smooth sailing.
"Take care of your business and come to the hotel."
Gerald said to Anne, opening the Carriage door.
"Thank you. Thank you so much."
Anne bowed deeply twice in gratitude and hurriedly boarded the Carriage.
Although there was plenty of time, Anne was anxious. The Carriage began to roll towards the Patek headquarters.
Edgar watched the Carriage carrying the maid disappear before ordering his departure.
What could possibly go wrong? Unless something unexpected happened, the maid who had stolen Yohan's birthday present would return.
It was a simple task.
No matter how simple something might seem on the surface, there were always variables lurking.
"Excuse me, just a moment. Why are we going back?"
About ten minutes after the Carriage had started moving, Anne, who had been lost in admiring the city scenery outside the window, cried out in surprise.
Gerald had told her that the Patek headquarters was straight down the main road. But suddenly, the Carriage had turned.
"This area is under control. They're working on the tram tracks. Are you a tourist? Where are you from?"
Instead of answering, the flustered Anne asked a question.
"How much longer will it take if we go this way?"
"It's only a ten-minute detour, so don't worry too much."
At the coachman's explanation, Anne took out her pocket watch. 4:20 PM. Still okay.
Calming herself, Anne turned her head back to the window. But she had to call the coachman again.
"...Wh-What's going on?"
The Carriage gradually slowed down and eventually came to a complete stop.
"Oh, for crying out loud."
The coachman clicked his tongue and spat. He was muttering, as if talking to someone.
The small window to the coachman's seat burst open.
"Her Majesty the Queen is passing by this road, so they're controlling traffic. Would you like to wait, or get out and run?"
The coachman, who had heard the situation from Gerald, asked with a troubled expression.
Anne opened the lid of the pocket watch she was holding tightly in her hand. 4:45 PM.
"What would you do?"
"Me? I'd run like the wind."
Anne burst out of the Carriage and started running.
The crowds who had come out to see Her Majesty the Queen were like a swarm of bees.
The bag bumping against the pedestrians holding Rondos flags in their hands was cumbersome.
Anne clutched the bag with the worn handle tightly to her chest and ran, looking only ahead.
Then she bumped into someone's shoulder. Her body, running at full speed, lost its balance and fell backward.
"Oh my, are you alright?"
Tears welled up in her eyes. Anne's vision blurred as she blinked, and the other person offered her a hand.
Dazed, Anne took the hand and slowly stood up. She slowly raised her head.
That someone cried out.
"Oh, Anne? Is that you, Anne?"
It was a maid from Greathill. Anne's eyes widened.
It was the very girl who had incited the maids under Diane Brooke and treated the young lady cruelly.
But what was even more devastating was the dark navy blue envelope in the maid's hand.
The splendid lettering, engraved in gold in the center of the paper bag, sparkled in the fading sunlight.
Patek.
At that moment, Anne felt like her heart had stopped.
***
Edgar was sitting on a single-seater velvet sofa, reviewing documents related to the International Bank with Gerald.
On the side table next to the sofa was whiskey with ice.
Edgar put down the documents he had been skimming through, stretched out as if yawning, and leaned back against the backrest, reaching out to pick up the glass.
He slowly scanned the interior of the room, taking a sip of the cold liquor.
The room at the Leopold Hotel, where he stayed ostentatiously whenever he visited Leiden, was as uncluttered as Yohan's personality.
Unlike the antique Lancelot Hotel, it was modern to the point of being cold.
"That painting. Not bad."
At Edgar's words, Gerald, who had been buried in the report, turned his head. Gerald, seeing the large frame hanging on the white wall at the foot of the bed, clicked his tongue.
It was a painting with colorful paints splattered haphazardly, without any form or consistent method, only with flamboyant colors.
No, could you even call something like that a painting in the first place? Gerald shook his head and said.
"Our Poppy is better at walking around with paint on her paws. Shall I show you sometime?"
Edgar chuckled. Poppy was the dog that Gerald cherished next to his wife.
Edgar's gaze, which had been directed at the painting, swept halfway across the wall and reached the large wall clock.
He narrowed his eyes at the reflected light from the glass cover, which was bathed in the light of the setting sun.
5:45 PM. It was past the time the maid should have returned.
Since it was her first time back in her hometown in a long time, she might have met a friend. Thinking that way, it was within a perfectly understandable range.
Thinking that, he put the glass back down and lowered his gaze to the documents, when the room door opened urgently without a knock.
It was Olivia's maid.
The maid was on the verge of tears.
"Why didn't you just explain the situation and ask for it back?"
After hearing the whole story, Gerald asked with an expression of disbelief.
"She's not the type to do that. She'd make things even bigger. She'd probably even report it to the newspaper. She said they give quite a bit of money."
Even with a tearful face, she felt resentment when she spoke about the maid.
"Then. Isn't it all over?"
"N-No. Maybe not yet."
At Gerald's words, the maid shook her head vehemently in denial.
'...Wh-What's that?'
'Ah. This. My mistress's watch that I had repaired. And this seems to be my mistress's birthday present. I heard there was something to be delivered to Greathill, so I picked it up while I was there.'
Anne recalled her conversation with the maid, Matilda.
"She didn't know who sent the gift. So maybe not yet..."
The maid's voice, trailing off at the end, began to tremble.
Edgar nodded lightly.
"Wh-What should we do now? My lady will be humiliated again... It's all my fault. I should have told you back then... Because of me."
Eventually, the maid's shoulders heaved.
"Should I sneak in and get it back? ...It's something my lady ordered. Is that also considered theft?"
Tears dripped onto the back of the maid's hands, which were clasped tightly together.
Edgar's gaze, which had left the maid, reached the painting that was said to be popular these days. He felt a little annoyed.
In a little while, Olivia was going to be the shameless woman who brazenly sent a gift with a card whispering love on her ex-husband's birthday, even though she was engaged.
Damnable Patek.
Of course, it was something she had ordered before the divorce, but that didn't matter to the gossips.
Such truth was not a very important fact to society or the media.
It would be a big blow to Edgar, who had created the image of the first woman to break the forbidden sanctuary.
Edgar slowly turned his head. The sun was setting beyond the large window.
A deep purplish-blue twilight was spreading over the splendid cityscape.
Edgar closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them, his gaze sliding to the wall clock.
6:15 PM. It was the time the banquet would have just started.
Edgar, who had been sitting motionless, slowly rose to his feet.
"Gerald."
"Yes, young master."
Edgar said, approaching the liquor-filled wagon.
"Prepare the Carriage."
"Where to. Surely... Young master? You're not, are you?"
Edgar raised the corners of his lips without a word. Gerald gasped in horror.
"You're really not going there, are you?"
"Who knows."
Edgar, who had stopped in front of the wagon, smiled sweetly and stared at the displayed bottles of liquor. He absolutely hated troublesome things.
"It's been a while. I suddenly feel like seeing her."
It was a very soft tone. So much so that one might mistake him for talking about a longed-for lover.
"No way. Young master!"
Leaving the serious-faced Gerald behind, Edgar reached into his pants pocket with his right hand, picked up a bottle of Champagne, and said nonchalantly.
"Surely. She wouldn't hit me, would she."
Edgar smiled crookedly, looking down at the sleek, gleaming silver label.
"This goes in a box. And it would be nice if you tied a pretty ribbon."
It was a gift that he had carefully chosen, considering he was crashing a birthday party.
A little later, the Carriage carrying the dressed-up Edgar departed.
He's crazy. He's gone crazy. What is he doing going there...?
Gerald, with a dumbfounded face, followed the tail of the Carriage heading to Greathill with his eyes.
***
The grand garden of Greathill was lit up with brilliant lights. It had been a year since Duke Leopold's birthday banquet last year.
Guests began to arrive one after another from early evening.
The servants stacked the gift boxes they received from the guests' attendants in front of the fireplace.
The head butler, after checking the gifts piled up in a triangular shape, headed to the banquet hall.
He inspected the tables set for the 12-course meal and issued orders to correct any missing items, and those orders were passed down to the lower floors.
The kitchen, where all orders were concentrated, was busier than ever.
At this time when even one person was missed, Matilda's return from her errand was delayed.
"That damn bitch. She always manages to slip away at times like this."
The maids cursed and sweated profusely, while Matilda was in front of the Leopold Hotel.
She had been following Anne. Just in case that stupid Duchess had come with her.
Anne had flatly denied it, but how could she believe those words? So she had hurriedly caught a Carriage and chased after her to see with her own two eyes.
Well, of course.
How much could a maid's salary be? Matilda sneered as she watched Anne run into the main entrance of the Leopold Hotel.
The illegitimate child must have come with her.
Olivia Blanchett, appearing in Leiden on her ex-husband's birthday. Is it a provocation against Princess Krantz, or lingering feelings for her ex-husband?
Just imagining it was enough for a news story that would cost a lot of money.
Matilda, excited at the thought of negotiating with the newspaper, was startled and ran to the Carriage stop.
She had completely forgotten that she had come out on an errand.
The butler's repeated instructions that she had to return on time so that her master could wear this watch now came to her mind.
