The Mansion Awaits Spring
Chapter 10
Chapter 10
As the police officers collapsed in the basement of the mansion where she had lived for seven years, April was overwhelmed by an indescribable pressure.
The only glimmer of hope was the fact that Pezin Dieus, the man commanding those officers, held the act of “leaving investigations to the Church” in utter contempt.
She never imagined she would live to see the day she received help from that little brat.
Regardless, she couldn’t simply rely on Pezin’s convictions alone.
To avoid being dragged away by the Church later—or to have enough to bribe her way out if she were—she had to reclaim at least a fraction of her fortune.
April gathered eggs, tended to the chickens, and finished her meal just like any other day before pulling out a dress.
She was in a hurry.
She planned to visit the bank first to assess her assets. It was her first time venturing out of her own volition in seven years.
However, when she arrived at the bank, she was met with a rejection right at the door.
“You cannot enter.”
April couldn’t hide her flustered expression at the policeman blocking her from even stepping inside.
She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but she had never doubted her basic rights. She needed to know how much of the assets frozen by the Grand Duke remained.
“Why can’t I go in? Do you have any idea how long the Lunos family has been doing business with this bank?”
“It’s a security matter.”
“I’ve served my full sentence. Why are you stopping me from retrieving what belongs to me from the bank?”
When April pressed him, the officer, who had nothing to say other than “security,” simply remained silent.
She also needed to track down the whereabouts of the merchant ships the Lunos family once owned.
April, who was only fifteen when her house arrest began, knew absolutely nothing about the family’s financial affairs.
She didn’t know where to start or how to reclaim them, but one thing was certain: she had to grasp the full extent of her current assets.
Yet, her very first plan was being thwarted right at the bank’s entrance.
April looked at the police officers coming to seize her. Recalling how Pezin’s subordinates had fled in terror earlier, she actually felt her anxiety subside.
Once she decided to act “strange,” her movements became unhesitating.
April donned her bonnet and unfurled the parasol she had brought. Since it was a cloudy day, there was no need to block the sun, and the parasol was so frayed she hadn’t even wanted to open it, but she did so anyway.
As expected, several officers who believed she was a witch flinched and backed away just from her opening the parasol. And strangely enough, the heavens momentarily took her side.
While she stood there in a brief standoff, raindrops began to fall one by one from the overcast sky.
“S-she’s changing the weather…!”
The Witch of the Fog.
If she could call the fog, then rain was hardly surprising. It was simply terrifying.
The police officers hesitated and retreated further, unable to approach her. April, holding her parasol, stepped inside the bank building.
The sight of her entering a building while holding a dripping parasol made her look more like a madwoman than a witch, but to those gripped by fear, the distinction was meaningless.
Having successfully entered the bank, April walked forward, her heart racing at the thought of someone stopping her.
The clerk who used to handle all the Lunos family’s banking affairs was a man with the surname ‘Virta.’
“Lead me to Mr. Virta.”
April spoke to the receptionist, but the woman didn’t move an inch from her spot.
April soon examined her face. It was a familiar one.
As expected, the receptionist spoke.
“I… I am Virta.”
“You’re a receptionist, not a banker.”
“My… my father was the banker.”
Virta spoke with a troubled expression.
The children of judges become judges, and the children of bankers become bankers. Even if they weren’t nobility, bankers held a prestige equivalent to lower-ranking nobles due to their wealthy intellectual assets.
The daughter of the banker Virta—the receptionist Virta—was tasked with standing at the door and escorting the nobles who visited the bank to their designated bankers.
It was a decent job, but she certainly wasn’t a banker.
“…Your name?”
When April asked with narrowed eyes, Virta answered hurriedly.
“Millet. Millet Virta.”
April tried to recall memories of coming to the bank with her father.
He was a banker so tall he seemed to touch the ceiling, thin enough that his cheeks were sunken. And she could easily remember the girl who used to learn the trade by his side, who would be around April’s age now.
“Ah.”
Finally, she remembered. This was definitely the daughter of the banker Virta, who had learned the work by his side and had greeted the future head of the Lunos family who would inherit the account.
Millet Virta spoke.
“I will introduce you to another banker. However, it will take a little time until then…”
“No. The Lunos family has entrusted its banking to the Virtas for generations. Besides, you learned the trade from your father. I remember clearly.”
At April’s words, Millet Virta swallowed hard in nervousness.
April’s statement reflected the typical mindset of the elders of noble families.
Financial matters of the family must only be entrusted to a specific family of bankers.
While April had been confined to her home, there had been major changes in the banking world. However, April was unaware of those changes, and even if she were, she would likely refuse to accept them like any other noble elder, insisting on the ways she knew.
Since the Lunos family was one that gained, lost, and regained fortunes through trade, such a conservative stance wasn’t incomprehensible.
The problem was that there were no bankers left in the Virta family, yet she was looking for one.
Millet Virta looked distressed, then stepped away for a moment to consult an elderly-looking banker.
She returned shortly after and said,
“Banking is not my job.”
Before April could ask if that meant she wouldn’t help, Millet continued quickly.
“I still have my own duties to finish, so I cannot help you during working hours. You would have to wait until four o’clock when my shift ends. Would that be alright?”
She had no choice but to walk here, but on the way back, she might be able to withdraw even a little money from the bank to hire a private carriage.
Though she was somewhat worried about the trip home, April consoled herself with that thought and replied,
“I’ll wait.”
After that, April stood in a corner of the bank and waited for the business day to end.
As Millet said, the work ended at four, but after tidying up and enduring some more nagging, it was nearly five o’clock.
Millet rushed back to April.
Since Millet didn’t have her own office, they sat down to talk on a sofa in a corner of the bank.
Millet placed a stack of documents and a cup of coffee in front of April and said,
“You came to check the remaining assets of the Lunos family, right? This is what is left of the Lunos estate now.”
April pulled the documents closer and began to flip through them one by one.
While the young April was left helpless without a guardian, everyone even remotely connected to the Lunos family had made off with the merchant ships. They claimed them as inheritance.
It seemed the Lunos family’s ruin wasn’t solely due to a scandalous affair.
From the Grand Duke’s perspective, the Lunos family was a dangerous entity that had to be bound by marriage.
Since that union failed, they would have become political enemies, so he had facilitated the stripping of every last bit of the Lunos fortune.
As April carefully examined the documents—where red lines were drawn to signify assets that no longer existed, with the names of those who took them written underneath—Millet apologized politely.
“I’m sorry. The only thing I could protect for you… is this last page.”
April checked the names under the red lines one by one and turned to the final page Millet mentioned.
On the last page were promissory notes issued through the bank. They were debts owed to the Lunos family, but the heirs had waived their claims to them because the debtors were troublesome to deal with.
“This will be difficult money to collect.”
“Yes. And… there is also this left.”
Millet pointed to a single receipt tucked between the notes.
It was for a ship that had been under construction after a down payment was made, but had never been delivered because the final balance hadn’t been paid.
