Chapter 9
A moment later, her gaze returned.
But Ash did not miss that brief moment.
‘That’s right. This isn’t an easy case. Too many things are hidden, and somewhere along the way, something became tangled.’
But why was it so enjoyable?
His colleagues at the Police Department would be appalled if they heard him say it, but Ash genuinely found this case fascinating.
So much so that he had even stopped dreaming about the battlefield.
☆☆☆
“I heard Ash came by earlier today.”
Melinda Brough said to her husband as she sipped her warm night tea.
As the longtime mistress of the vast Brough estate, her elegance was beyond reproach.
“Ash? Ash McCallen?”
“Yes.”
“That bastard.”
At the word *”bastard,”* Count Brough frowned as though he had seen something filthy.
“Tsk.”
“So he met Rosalyn.”
“I suppose so.”
“I’m in a foul mood because ever since we brought trash into the house, more things of the same kind keep showing up.”
“I feel the same way.”
“I wish we could sell her off as soon as possible.”
Sitting in a chair a short distance away from his wife, who was drinking tea, he lit his cigar.
While he puffed on it so the ember would properly catch at the tip, silence settled between them.
However, after living together for over forty years, the couple no longer needed words to know what the other was thinking.
“Viscount Trave’s family and Baron Dion’s family have been more proactive.”
“But no matter how I think about it, I believe Viscount Gottfried’s family is the best choice.”
“I agree.”
“Viscount Gottfried’s paper manufacturing business has tremendous potential.”
“And he’s also well connected with the influential members of the Citizens’ Council.”
“I don’t particularly like associating with commoners.”
“But if that’s the current trend, I suppose we should at least pretend to follow it.”
Melinda took another sip of tea with a bitter expression.
The era when nobles could indulge in every luxury without working simply because they were nobles was over.
What good was taxation authority when they could no longer collect more than the legally permitted tax rate?
In an age where wealth and power had become the greatest measures of a person’s worth, the more money one possessed, the better.
Even nobles now had to work.
The foundation of that great change was the increased income and improved standard of living enjoyed by commoners.
Commoners were no longer fertilizer scattered beneath the feet of nobles to sustain their lavish lives.
“It can’t be helped.”
“The Citizens’ Council grows stronger by the day.”
“We should establish connections with them before it’s too late.”
“Those people are rather pitiful too.”
“Even Viscount Gottfried, whom they consider a friend, is working so hard just to secure a title for his own son.”
“I wonder if they even realize it.”
“Of course they don’t.”
“If someone offered them a title, they’d rush over gladly themselves.”
Count and Countess Brough knew that human beings would seize even the smallest amount of power if given the chance.
To them, arranging marriages as transactions in which power was bought and sold was perfectly natural.
Even if the merchandise was someone else’s child.
In truth, compared to others of their standing, they were rather reasonable and considerate.
The match they had chosen was neither an old man with previous marriages nor some sort of deviant.
He was a perfectly respectable young gentleman.
“By the way…”
“The second son of Viscount Gottfried was named… Arthur, wasn’t he?”
“I believe so.”
“Arthur Gottfried.”
“A handsome young man with a pleasant face.”
“He’s far more than Rosalyn deserves.”
“If it weren’t for us, would she ever have had the chance to marry into such a family?”
“Honestly, that fire was the greatest stroke of luck Rosalyn could ever have hoped for.”
Count Brough shrugged as he flicked the ash from his cigar.
Just then, Melinda spoke as though something had suddenly come to mind.
“Oh!”
“Rosalyn said she wants to visit the territory.”
“She’ll probably have quite a few matters to take care of, so I told her to go.”
“Well, she’s the only one left who can deal with affairs in Tessis now.”
“She’ll have to go eventually.”
“Still, she ought to return before the summer social season begins.”
“She said it wouldn’t take long.”
“The girl is surprisingly polite and quick-witted.”
To them, Rosalyn’s trip to the territory was a matter of no greater importance than that.
Having finished discussing their dependent second cousin once removed, the two quietly enjoyed their tea and cigars, bringing an ordinary day to an end.
Naturally, Rosalyn had absolutely no idea that her marriage had already been arranged.
☆☆☆
The days at Baron Tessis’s estate used to begin with the diligent movements of the maids.
At least, they had until recently.
But since the day before yesterday, the mansion remained silent even after morning arrived.
“Sigh….”
As always, Glen let out a sigh before even getting out of bed.
‘At this rate, the House of Tessis is going to collapse before I even have the chance to retire.’
He had spent years exhausting himself, solving every problem imaginable and preventing the family’s downfall.
But now he had reached his limit.
The Merchants’ Association, which should have paid the largest amount of taxes, first reduced what it owed by claiming there was a bandit problem.
Now they were even postponing the payment deadline.
At this rate, he might not receive the taxes until next year.
What worried him even more was that other taxpayers would likely begin using the Merchants’ Association as an excuse to reduce their own taxes as well.
These were matters the Baron himself should have dealt with decisively.
Instead, Baron Tessis always chose the easiest path because he found such things troublesome.
“We’re supposed to investigate and eliminate the bandits roaming the forest?”
“Do you have any idea how much it would cost to gather that many men?”
“Just leave it for now.”
“They’ll pay eventually.”
“The Merchants Association wants to organize a local militia.”
“They’re asking for financial support, so just give it to them.”
Normally, they should have appealed to the police in a major city and requested officers or soldiers.
If that proved impossible, they should have hired mercenaries with their own money.
Instead, Baron Tessis simply accepted the Merchants’ Association’s demand to establish a local militia, provide subsidies for it, and even reduce their taxes.
Then, whenever money ran short, he would pressure Glen instead.
“You’re my steward, aren’t you?”
“Why haven’t you collected the money already?”
“What have you been doing all this time?”
And that wasn’t all.
Whenever the people of the territory came to voice complaints, Glen had to meet them in the Baron’s place.
They would probably have behaved respectfully if the person facing them had been a noble.
But when they saw a steward who came from the same common background as themselves, they often acted far more aggressively.
‘If this household had at least been beneficial to the people of the territory, I might have been able to stand proudly before them.’
‘Instead, it was the exact opposite, so I always ended up feeling like the guilty one.’
Even so, he had remained here since his youth, devoting everything to this estate.
It was his hometown.
He had grown up watching this lord’s family.
And his mother had always been proud that her son served as the family’s steward.
But now he could no longer understand what he was sacrificing himself for.
Not long ago, his mother had departed to be with God.
‘Perhaps I should leave with my family.’
‘No matter where we go, it has to be better than here.’
Thinking that, he stepped outside his room and naturally picked up a broom.
Including himself, only eight servants remained in the Baron’s household.
Or rather, excluding the guards, only four.
As a result, even the steward himself had to sweep the grounds.
He had asked the Baron to decide which of the remaining servants should be dismissed.
In truth, however, he had already dismissed most of them.
Considering the household’s precarious financial situation, they had neither the ability nor the resources to support servants who spent their days idling.
He was not afraid of being criticized for acting without the Baron’s permission.
‘If His Lordship truly needs them, we can always hire them back later.’
‘At least we’ll save on wages until my master returns.’
‘But if he still insists on keeping servants after seeing the account books…’
If the Baron truly lacked that much common sense, Glen no longer had any confidence that he could continue serving him.
As he swept the front of the castle, trying to clear his troubled mind, he saw a mail carrier riding toward him in the distance.
“Mr. Steward!”
“A letter has arrived from the capital!”
Oddly enough, hearing that a reply had arrived only made Glen sigh.
He immediately worried that the Baron might once again have written something ridiculous.
Still, after thanking the courier and going inside, he neatly opened the envelope with a letter knife.
‘If it comes to it, I’ll simply resign.’
With that determination, he opened the envelope.
Inside was a letter written in handwriting that felt somewhat unfamiliar.
“…What?”
“Miss Rosalyn is coming here herself?”
No reason was given.
The letter merely stated that she would arrive as soon as possible.
It also instructed him to dismiss all unnecessary servants in the meantime and not to provide subsidies for the Merchants’ Association’s local militia.
The final sentence instructed him to prepare the household’s account books and financial records for her review.
For some reason, those words filled him with unease.
‘If someone is going to inspect those, shouldn’t it be the Baron?’
‘Why Miss Rosalyn…?’
His confusion was entirely understandable.
The Rosalyn Tessis he had always known was the sole heir of the family, yet someone who had consistently ignored both major and minor household affairs.
Why would someone like her—
Especially someone who should have been busy in the capital searching for a marriage partner—
Return alone?
‘Surely… she hasn’t been cast out of the capital’s social circles?’
☆▪︎▪︎▪︎☆
