Translator: Nox
43.An Unexpected Intruder
November 12, 2023
"I am sorry, Master. It has not arrived yet."
The butler, bowing politely to Yohan, lamented his mistake.
The servants were short-handed due to attending to the arriving guests, so he had sent a seemingly idle maid on the errand.
But she had not appeared, even as the dinner hour approached.
The butler glanced at Yohan's expression and pointed to the watches in the center.
"This product would go well with today's attire. What do you think?"
Yohan swept over the watches the butler presented as alternatives with narrowed eyes.
The butler's heart burned at the displeasure in his gaze.
Where could she be, and what could she be doing?
To Yohan Leopold, the Patek 'Nostalgia 1870' was more than just a wristwatch.
It was the first and last birthday gift his mother, the Duchess of Edinburgh, had given him on the day he was born.
It was a custom among the men of the Duke of Edinburgh's family to wear the watch they received on the day of their birth when they turned sixteen.
It was common to alternate with other products depending on the time and place, but Yohan was particularly attached to that watch.
Yohan closed his eyes, massaged the back of his neck with his large hand, and slowly tilted his head back.
The butler, feeling mortified, couldn't dare to recommend anything else.
A slight fatigue was felt on his face, which was devoid of emotion. There was a dry indifference that didn't make him feel like the protagonist celebrating his birthday.
It was no different from when Duchess Leopold was alive.
"I am sorry. It is my fault."
The butler apologized respectfully once more.
Just then, there was a knock and the door opened. The butler's gaze immediately turned to the doorway with a sense of relief.
The fleetingly brightened face hardened again when he saw Maurice.
How nice it would have been if it had been the maid he was waiting for.
"It's time to go downstairs."
Yohan stopped the gesture of casually trying to lift his cuff, as he often did, and stood up.
"Master, the watch..."
"When it arrives. I'll wear it then."
Yohan said dryly, buttoning the black tailcoat.
The butler bowed deeply to Yohan's back as he crossed the bedroom. It was then that another knock sounded.
Finally, she's here.
The butler raised his head with a delighted expression.
"……."
The smile hanging on the end of his mustache vanished in an instant. It wasn't the maid he was waiting for.
I should fire him today, the butler resolved, as the sub-manager of the Leopold Hotel approached Yohan directly.
"I have something to report."
Yohan nodded.
"Marquis Lancelot has checked in."
It wasn't a particularly special report. He had already expected him to interfere by joining the International Bank acquisition battle.
"And."
The employee paused for a moment before continuing.
"Anne Marshall checked in with him."
"Anne Marshall?"
At the tone of not knowing who she was, Maurice added.
"Isn't she Miss Blanchet's maid? The one from the Count's family."
At Maurice's words, Yohan's gaze, which had been cast down as if measuring something, turned forward again.
"Olivia?"
"She is not on the guest list at the moment."
Yohan tilted his head.
What business would the maid who followed Olivia like a shadow have in Rondos alone?
His narrowly narrowed eyes became sharp. The golden light of the waning afternoon pooled in his gray eyes.
'Happy birthday, Yohan.'
His wife's voice pierced through.
'I love you.'
Her face, constantly muttering love and smiling sadly, too.
In the dazzling sunlight pouring through the window, Yohan slowly closed his eyes.
And when he opened his eyes again, all afterimages had been cleanly erased.
***
At the main gate of Greathill, decorated with a lion emblem roaring with its front paws raised, a battle of wills was raging between the gatekeeper and the coachman.
"I'm telling you, this is the Carriage of Marquis Edgar Lancaster of the Duke Lancelot family from the Kingdom of Brit."
"So."
The gatekeeper sighed and explained again.
"Even His Majesty the King of the Kingdom of Brit cannot enter without an invitation. So, please show me your invitation."
The two argued for a while.
While the tedious fight continued, Edgar surveyed the scenery outside the Carriage.
A refreshing breeze blew from the lush forest.
Greathill could be seen beyond the swaying curtains. It was shining brilliantly alone on the hill where the setting sun was falling.
"Ah, I'm telling you, I forgot the invitation because I came urgently from Brit."
The gatekeeper, tired of arguing, sighed and said as if resigned.
"Then, please wait a moment. I will tell the butler."
The gate of the luxurious mansion did not seem willing to open easily.
The gatekeeper, who had stepped back due to the coachman's persistence, turned his body.
The coachman quickly stared at Edgar through the small window. Edgar nodded briefly.
It meant to knock him out for a moment.
The white shining Carriage rattled along the spruce tree-lined road and stopped when the burly coachman, who had gotten off the driver's seat, raised his arm to strike the gatekeeper's neck.
Edgar bit his lip as the horses clattered their hooves and the Carriage stopped. Damn it.
The eyes of the gatekeeper and the coachman, who had turned around at the arrival of the new guest, met.
"No... why."
The gatekeeper stammered, looking up at the coachman's rough-looking hand.
He didn't know when he was sitting, but now that he saw him, he was quite the bandit-like figure.
"……There's dust on your shoulder."
The coachman lowered his arm as it was, brushed the gatekeeper's shoulder, picked his ear, and returned to his seat.
Then the coachman of the Carriage that arrived behind shouted.
"This is the Carriage of His Highness Prince Mikhail of Rondos."
Ah! Mikhail.
Edgar let out a silent laugh.
It seemed that the goddess of fortune was on his side. At least for today.
Edgar, who got out of the Carriage, approached the overly ornate white Carriage.
He tapped the window next to the gold-trimmed window with his cane.
A surprised blond-haired young man, who was talking to someone, turned his head.
"Brother?"
Mikhail's eyes widened as if he had seen a ghost.
"Are you really my brother?"
Edgar smiled instead of answering. Then he confidently got into the Carriage.
The gatekeeper eventually had to let Edgar's Carriage pass as an companion of the honored guest, Prince Mikhail.
It was the first uninvited guest in the short history of Greathill.
The butler was just as surprised by the appearance of the uninvited guest, who was not on any list.
The butler, who had been staring blankly at the Marquess, exchanged greetings with Mikhail in a daze.
Even as he received the hat and cane that Mikhail naturally handed over, his gaze was directed at Marquis Lancelot.
I have to inform the master.
Following the watch incident, the butler's heart was burning to a crisp once again. The opponent was the head of a rival company, wasn't he?
"I overtook my uncle's Carriage. He will arrive soon, so keep your place."
Mikhail said, lightly placing his hand on the butler's shoulder as he took steps to guide them.
Then he crossed the central hall. The butler stared blankly at the back of the unfamiliar guest, who was taking cool steps next to the prince.
"What are you up to?"
Edgar, who was walking with a silent smile, turned his steps to the opposite side of the hallway where the banquet hall was located.
Mikhail lowered his voice and asked.
He pretended to have fire in both eyes, but he was not without anticipation for what would happen in the future.
One side of Edgar's lips twisted.
"It's my dear cousin's birthday."
The scent of roses wafted in the gently blowing breeze. He thought of the woman who would be waiting anxiously for news.
He couldn't help but smile as he thought of her saying that she would never forget to repay the favor of helping her.
What will you ask for?
'In what way?'
'Pardon……?'
The woman, who didn't seem to have thought deeply about it up to that point, blinked her big eyes and looked at him in confusion.
Olivia's surprised reaction was fun to watch.
Edgar burst into laughter as he looked at the woman, who was blushing as if she was imagining something.
'Winning the Dumbleton Championship. That's all I need.'
Ah! The woman's face, who let out a sigh of relief, turned even redder.
'I can't say for sure whether I will win or not. But I will do my best.'
The woman's eyes became clear as she paused for a moment.
Edgar, who pulled at his lips, continued.
"I'm going to leave a bottle of wine."
Edgar held up the gift box in one hand. It was wrapped in black paper with a bright red ribbon.
"Don't tell me. Did you put poison in it?"
Mikhail looked around and asked in a low voice. Edgar's silent smile made him even more suspicious.
Mikhail, who was bored, was about to go crazy with curiosity.
"What on earth has gotten into you?"
Wind……
"Who knows."
Edgar answered indifferently, turned around at that point, and briefly raised his hand.
It meant not to follow him any further.
"Be careful not to be seen by the Wellington Grand Duchess."
Edgar chuckled at the thought of the old woman's fierce eyes.
She was a very long-lived old woman.
Edgar erased unnecessary thoughts and headed straight to the drawing room Anne had told him about.
After passing three or four of the solemn portraits hanging in the long hallway, a particularly magnificent door came into view.
Servants were guarding in front of it, but they did not show much vigilance towards the guest who had passed through the main gate of Greathill.
When he said that he had just arrived and would leave a gift, the door opened readily.
Edgar smiled and entered the drawing room nonchalantly.
The first thing that caught his eye was a pile of gifts that formed a tower in the shape of a Christmas tree.
Various wrapping papers and ribbons cast a bright light on the chandelier.
It was a huge gift tree, showing Yohan's position.
Edgar put his hands in his pockets and approached the gift bundles with a leisurely gaze, placing the box in his hand on a nearby table.
He began to look for the navy blue paper bag with a calm gaze.
Starting with a square velvet box that looked like jewelry, the volume of the boxes increased as he went down.
"……."
No matter where he looked, he couldn't see a Patek shopping bag, let alone a leather case with a logo.
Edgar frowned and turned to the left.
His gaze, fixed at the very top, was looking at the boxes and was just about to come down when the drawing room door burst open.
"Looking for this?"
A low voice broke the quiet silence.
