Count Merellof, reviewing documents, heard the sound of hurried footsteps. As he looked up, the butler burst in with a panicked expression. A man who normally regarded formality like law, he always knocked…

“What’s the matter?”

“Co… Count. There’s been a terrible incident.”

The trembling voice of the butler made Count Merellof put down his pen, something he rarely saw from his butler.

“The trade delegation sent a message… All the carts have burned down.”

“What?!”

Count Merellof stood up abruptly, incredulous. How could the carts have burned?

“A man named Collin set the carts on fire and tried to kill the others. It seems he was after the gold coins the soldiers had, but he died in the scuffle.”

“How much gold was there?”

Most transactions were done through the Hayman Bank1 with checks and bills of exchange, meaning the gold with the soldiers was just pocket money for the journey.

“For commoners, it’s a significant amount.”

“But what do you suggest we do?”

“All the carts are burned, and some inhaled smoke in the cave, causing injuries. They sent a pigeon to say they would continue to Sherion, but it’s unclear how long it will take.”

And that wasn’t all.

With the carts burned, they would need new ones to transport food. Even setting aside the cost, it was uncertain whether they could find any in this winter, when all available wood was used as fuel.

“…Ha. Hahaha. Ha!”

“Collin was always suspicious. The delegation will need more money in Sherion, maybe we should just have them return?”

They couldn’t sleep on the ground or survive on water alone, and with injured people, they would need a doctor.

Count Merellof groaned, pressing his forehead at the butler’s words.

‘This is the worst.’

Indeed, Count Merellof was certain this was the worst winter he had ever faced.

“…Why the fire!”

Whoosh!

Unable to contain his anger, Count Merellof started throwing whatever he could get his hands on.

It was unbelievable that among so many people, no one could stop the incident. Were the people under the name of Merellof all such incompetents?

Yes.

Under the guise of peace, incompetency had been hidden, now rearing its head amidst the crisis. The state of the Merellof mansion was deplorable.

“Kill Collin’s family.”

“…Yes, Count.”

“Rid that wretched household. Scrape out whatever you can. Hang everyone, young and old. Kill them all, just kill them all…”

Overlapping disasters were suffocating. Forgetting the burned carts, the immediate concern was now the Count’s own table. If food couldn’t be secured from Sherion or the Hawan Kingdom, there was only one option left.

Bang! Crash!

“Damn it. How did it come to this? Do I need an oracle or what? Huh?”

“Aaaargghh!”

Count Merellof slammed his hand on the table and, out of habit, grabbed the hair of a servant standing beside him. He vented his anger physically, shaking the servant’s emaciated body.

The servant swayed back and forth, but the butler could only bow his head in silence.

“I’m sorry, Count. I’m so sorry.”

“Ha. Really, Butler. That’s why. I told you to choose people more carefully!”

“…Please spare me!”

Snap!

The butler bowed deeply, biting his lip hard. He had to somehow appease the Count’s anger, or else an innocent child might face consequences today.

“Leave.”

“But, Count…”

“Go and kill all of Collin’s blood relatives!”

Creak.

The servant’s hair was still tangled in Count Merellof’s grip. Reluctantly, the butler backed out of the office, and the waiting servants looked up at him with distressed faces.

“Bu… Butler.”

“Everyone, step back. Sparks might fly.”

“What about him?”

“Shh. Do you want to draw the Count’s wrath?”

Fear filled the eyes of the servants at the butler’s words. Their eyes, moist with unshed tears, became deeper with despair. They hesitated, pretending not to hear the screams coming from inside the office.

Click.

The sound of shoes echoed crisply. The atmosphere felt as if it was cracking like ice. The butler and the servants simultaneously turned their heads. Countess Merellof stood there with a calm expression.

“What’s going on?”

“My… Milady……”

Crash! Bang!

Instead of responding, the Countess glanced briefly at the noisy office. She then looked at the butler and sighed faintly.

“Open the door.”

“Milady. Now is not the…”

“It’s alright. Open it.”

The Countess brushed aside the servants’ attempts to dissuade her. Her eyes were determined yet infinitely calm, leaving the servants unable to guess her intentions. Such scenes of servants being punished had occurred several times before.

Sob…”

“Do I have to open it myself?”

One of the servants couldn’t hold back tears, prompting a sharp glance from the Countess.

Eventually, the butler reached for the doorknob.

Creak.

The door slowly opened. A beaten servant lay on the floor, blood spattered around the wooden furniture. Countess Merellof boldly lifted her head and stepped inside.

“Darling.”

Upon her call, Count Merellof, panting, turned around.

Sweat dripped from his forehead, indicating how fiercely he had vented his anger on the servant. The servant, in turn, kept rubbing his palms together desperately.

“Let that child go.”

Sob… please spare me…”

“Come play with me.”

Countess Merellof’s face, previously devoid of emotion, now carried a radiant smile. She tilted her head slightly to lock eyes with the butler at the door. The servant seized the opportunity to quickly crawl away.

‘Close the door.’

Creak.

Light seeped through the slowly closing door. The butler, as always, felt a heaviness in his heart as he shut it.

Countess Merellof, taking her husband’s hand gently, suggested kindly.

“Darling, why don’t we ask for help from Bratz?”

But the count’s rage, flashing with madness, was not easily quelled. She whispered again, quietly.

“If it’s too difficult for you, I can go and talk. I’m of similar age, and it might be better for me to go than for you.”

“You would?”

“Yes. Leave it to me.”

Count Merellof, still seething, grabbed his wife’s flowing hair. She remained calm, as usual.

“You’re not planning to escape, are you?”

“Of course not. How could I?”

At her composed response, Count Merellof roughly shook her hair. Her gaze was fixed beyond her husband, on the bright full moon.

* * *

Countess Merellof arrived in Bratz four days later. Having received prior notice, Ian was waiting at the mansion’s main gate. As the carriage door opened, the Countess, dressed for an outing, extended her hand with a smile.

“Welcome, Countess Merellof. It’s a pleasure to have you here.”

“Ian, oh no, I almost made a mistake. Now I should call you Lord Ian, shouldn’t I?”

“Was your journey here comfortable?”

“Not at all. Are we so distant from each other?”

Countess Merellof subtly hinted at their neighborly relationship. Ian, without a word, just smiled and led her to the drawing room.

“I was honestly a bit surprised to hear of your visit.”

“I felt guilty for not properly congratulating you on your title, both the Count and I.”

The Countess handed her thick coat to a servant. Her nose was slightly red, possibly from the cold carriage ride.

“No worries at all. I understand you’re busy with your duties.”

“Thank you, Sir Ian. The Count wished to join, but as you said, he couldn’t find the time.”

“You even sent a gift, didn’t you?”

Ian subtly mentioned the Dripper.

“It’s such a precious item, I’m not sure if it was appropriate to give it to me.”

Was the Countess aware of the Dripper’s value when she gave it, or was it a ploy that inadvertently played into Ian’s hands?

Ian observed the Countess’s facial expressions carefully, but she only maintained a vague smile.

“Was it a bit perplexing? I suggested something else, but the Count insisted that it would be of great help to you, Sir Ian. What do I know? If the Count says so…”

‘It’s clear she’s a noble now, no matter her origin.’

It was a masterful way of speaking. Saying the Count insisted on it implied it had value, but if Ian didn’t appreciate it, it suggested a lack of discernment on his part.

“No, not at all. I love it. It’s quite an extraordinary gift.”

He genuinely liked it, not just for the sake of politeness. Considering its state, it seemed newly developed, and where else could one find such an item?

The Countess smiled and nodded.

“I’m glad to hear that. The Count will be pleased. We have prepared other gifts as well, so you can look forward to them.”

“That’s very kind of you, Madam.”

“But, Sir Ian. The reason for my visit today is…”

Countess Merellof trailed off. Ian naturally expected the conversation to turn to the trade of Grula, but what she said next was completely unexpected.

“I would like to see Lady Mary’s room. Didn’t I mention it last time? There’s something I lent her that hasn’t been returned.”

“Oh.”

Ian paused, surprised. The Countess’s eyes sparkled with hope, as if pleading for permission. It seemed she also hoped Ian hadn’t cleared out Mary’s room. Normally, one might have completely redone a stepmother’s room who was a criminal…

“Please, feel free. It’s something you need to find, so how can I stop you? I’ve been too busy to touch that area. If Lady Mary had it, it should still be there.”

He had preserved it due to the unusual behavior of the two ladies. More precisely, he hadn’t really paid much attention to it.

With Ian’s permission, Countess Merellof quickly stood up, urging the servant.

“Then, I should attend to that first.”

“I’ll show you the way.”

“Will you join us, Sir Ian?” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the ɴøvᴇlFɪre.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

“Yes, of course. I will assist in the search. Just let me know what it is.”

At Ian’s words, Countess Merellof’s expression stiffened slightly, but so subtly that it seemed like an illusion, prompting Ian to observe her more closely. Her posture as she walked was the epitome of grace.

“This way, Countess.”

The servant led Countess Merellof and Ian respectfully. They headed to the last room on the floor below the study, a room long unoccupied. As the door opened, the distinct scent of an old mansion wafted out.

“We did clean it, but the room has been unused, so it smells strongly of wood. I’ll open the windows for ventilation.”

Swoosh.

The cold air entered through the windows, but Countess Merellof seemed unbothered. She began carefully searching through drawers and closets. Ian watched her from a short distance.

“Madam, if you tell me, I can have the servants look for it.”

“No, it’s something that shouldn’t be handled by others.”

Swoosh.

Countess Merellof rifled through the garments. Delicate and ornate fabrics moved swiftly as she pushed them aside, but it seemed she couldn’t find what she was looking for.

“Sir Ian.”

“Yes, Countess.”

“Would you mind stepping out for a moment? I need to check the inner parts. I’ll let you know once I find the item.”

The Countess indicated a drawer typically used for intimate apparel. Ian gave the servant a look to keep watch and quietly left the room. Countess Merellof continued searching after ensuring the door was fully closed.

“Countess, is there anything I can help with?”

“Leave all the drawers open. I will search them myself.”

Countess Merellof paused abruptly while rummaging through a drawer, then muttered to herself. The servant flinched at the reflection of her cold, fierce expression in the mirror.

She seemed deep in thought for a moment, then resumed searching through the drawers frantically.

  1. First mentioned in Chp.39[↩]

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