ESP 18

chapter 18

‘Keith, you said I could ask anything about the estate, right?’

‘Of course. This is now Lady Ebony’s estate as well. …So, what would you like to know, my lady?’

That day Keith looked to be in a particularly good mood. Not knowing that it was because of the new green dress she wore, Briony gave a faint smile. She herself was unaware how much the deep mossy color of the gown, glowing under candlelight, brought out her hair and eyes.

‘I found something while looking through the Dalmore property list earlier today…’

‘Ah, did you find another asset I failed to keep track of?’

When Briony looked puzzled, Keith answered with a light laugh.

‘That’s what Dmitri always says whenever he catches my mistakes in the ledgers.’

‘What I found isn’t a mistake… it’s about a building. Is there a mansion called Ondine Isle in Ebony?’

‘…Ah.’

The smile slipped from his face. Maybe it was just her imagination, but Briony thought a shadow crossed his eyes the instant she mentioned the name Ondine Isle. Before she could even label that expression, it was gone.

‘That place isn’t in Ebony but in Vernon. It’s a Dalmore family villa.’

Vernon was a neighboring domain, two hours away at full gallop from Ebony. A dense forest lay between the two lands, so carriages had to take a long detour around it.

‘I didn’t know the family had a villa in Vernon. Is it being managed separately?’

‘The local steward checks on it from time to time.’

‘Did you lend it out to someone?’

‘No. …Why do you ask?’

If there had been a villa in another territory, surely Keith would have suggested they visit together at some point. Instead of voicing that thought, Briony gave a safe reply.

‘I wondered if maybe someone else was living there now, and if it was something I didn’t need to concern myself with.’

Keith finally relaxed his expression.

‘You are Lady Ebony, the Countess of Dalmore. There’s nothing about the estate you don’t need to know. That villa is old and terribly dilapidated. Not worth spending money to repair. That’s why I never brought it up.’

Briony nodded. Even so, it felt odd. Keith usually shared everything about the family’s holdings and lands with her, so why hadn’t he mentioned a property like this? Perhaps it was because restoring the villa would cost too much, and he didn’t want to suggest using her dowry for it.

That thought soured her mood. After a vague farewell to her husband, she left the study.

“……My lady.”

Myrtle gently shook Briony awake. Outside, night had long fallen. The Duke of Byron’s carriage was comfortable, and his valet was skilled enough that the steady rocking lulled her into sleep.

“They say there are lights ahead. Must be the inn that hotel man told us about yesterday.”

“Then we’ll stay there tonight.”

She murmured wearily.

It had been six days since they fled Shovary. Last night they’d been lucky enough to enjoy proper treatment at a decent hotel. But the road to their destination stretched on with valleys and forests. Near the end of a gorge there was said to be a travelers’ lodge, so they’d pressed on late into the night. That faint glow ahead must be it.

The surroundings were utterly silent. None of the robbers or ruffians the valet had worried about when they set out were anywhere in sight. Ten years ago such types did prowl in the forests and mountains, forcing noblewomen to travel with armed guards. Romantic tales of lovers eloping with their protectors were common. Inns on borderlands and deep in the woods catered to such couples.

But six years ago, when Leopoldine of Albraid ascended the throne, sightings of bandits had sharply decreased.

The new queen had poured great effort into strengthening public order. In lawless regions she stationed royal constables, and punished severely anyone who harmed nobles or commoners alike. To the people this was good, but many nobles disliked it. At the same time, she banned nobles from hiring personal guards. Under King Conrad II, private armies had already been restricted, cutting off nobles from building power. Now even guards under the pretense of escorts were forbidden. Noble houses had effectively lost any way to raise troops of their own.

Of course, this was part of the queen’s centralization of power. Five years ago, when Prince Elliot’s family was executed, nobles witnessed firsthand how powerful her army was, and how unyielding her resolve to assert absolute royal authority. Such moves had begun under Conrad II, but Leopoldine’s harsh nature left no room for opposition.

“This place feels eerie,” Myrtle said, peeking out through the curtain.

Briony agreed.

Some of it was nerves. They had fled Shovary in haste, traveling without rest except for the occasional inn, into regions she had never once visited. But this land had always been wrapped in tales.

“My lady, won’t you tell me where we’re actually going now?”

“Have you heard of Vernon?”

“It’s the territory next to Ebony. …Wait, then this is the Mirage Forest?”

Vernon was ringed with woods and ravines, steeped in legends of witches, spirits, and cursed monsters. The stretch they rode through now marked the forest’s edge.

“Just a little further and we’ll reach it.”

“Why are we going to Vernon? Do you know anyone there?”

Myrtle sounded confused. She’d served Briony since childhood and knew well that her mistress had no relatives or kindly acquaintances to rely on.

“There’s a Dalmore family villa there.”

“A villa? I’ve never heard of it.”

“I only heard it existed. It’s called Ondine Isle.”

The name, meaning “Water Spirit’s Isle,” suited the image of Vernon’s forest. And in her three years of marriage she’d never once visited it. To her it was a place of mystery.

“What do you plan to do there?”

“Since Ebony Heights isn’t somewhere we can go right now, I’ll see if we can stay at Ondine Isle for a while.”

Myrtle asked cautiously, “Will the caretaker even recognize you?”

“Probably not. I was never introduced to them. But I did meet Lord and Lady Vernon once.”

That had been two years ago. As Briony recalled, they were fond of traveling. When her gardens at Ebony Heights first gained repute, they were the first to visit and admire them. They quickly left, sensing she wasn’t keen on social ties.

“So will you be visiting them too?”

“Ondine Isle may be Dalmore property, but it lies within their domain. It’s better to inform them that I’ll be staying there.”

Myrtle chewed her nails, hesitated, then spoke.

“But… but my lady, you’re no longer the Countess of Dalmore.”

It was true. If, as Duke Byron had said, news of the Dalmore couple’s divorce had already spread through society, surely Lord and Lady Vernon knew.

Briony nodded.

“Yes. So I’ll say I received the villa as alimony.”

“Gasp!”

Myrtle’s brown eyes widened in shock, then sparkled with excitement. Briony hadn’t meant to indulge the maid’s love for drama, but under the circumstances she let it pass.

“…We won’t stay longer than a month. Lord Ebony can’t return to Ebony Heights any time soon, it seems.”

That was her plan.

If she sold all her jewels at once, she’d have plenty of cash. But rushing would mean losing value. She needed time to sell them piece by piece, and to hire a skilled lawyer to claim her mother’s inheritance from Sir Gideon Arlington. For that, she needed a stable place to stay. Ondine Isle came to mind because she had no idea what state Ebony Heights was in after the queen’s investigators raided it with a warrant.

Claiming it as alimony was, of course, a lie. But with Keith absent from Ebony and Dmitri surely preoccupied, the deception might hold for a few weeks. Even Briony wondered where this swindler’s inspiration had come from.

Still, it was better than relying on Lord Weardale—or any other man’s uncertain goodwill.

“What if Lord Ebony finds out?”

“…I’d rather not think about that right now.”

Until she found the name Ondine Isle in the Dalmore property register, Keith had never mentioned the villa. He had even seemed displeased when she brought it up. Since then, she had spoken of it to no one—not even Dmitri. She didn’t even know if the building still stood.

Unlike the troubled Briony, Myrtle’s eyes gleamed with excitement.

“They say Vernon is full of forests. The Mirage Forest is so deep, people often get lost and die there. Some even go in to kill themselves. And then their ghosts wander out…”

At that moment the carriage halted. They felt the jolt as the valet jumped down. They must have arrived at the inn. Both women, exhausted from the long journey, longed for a bed no matter the state of the place.

But after quite a while, the valet returned.

When Briony opened the window, she saw his uneasy face.

“My deepest apologies, Mistress Arlington. It seems I took the wrong turn. This building isn’t an inn—it’s some kind of sanatorium.”

“…In such a remote place?”

She leaned out to see a tall-walled compound surrounded by dense trees. Dim lights glimmered from its small windows, more like a hospital or asylum than a hotel. The long walk from the gate to the carriage explained his delay.

“From what they said, it’s more like an asylum for the insane.”

Myrtle shuddered.

“Must be people who lost their minds wandering the Mirage Forest.”

The valet looked unsettled at that. Having only just served Lord Weardale to Shovary, he was now burdened with escorting strange ladies on a long journey. Briony felt sorry for him.

“Couldn’t we stay there just one night? You must be tired from driving.”

“I asked. But they said only the insane can enter—no sane person is allowed inside.”

“Did they at least give you directions to the inn?”

“Yes. If we don’t lose the way, it should be close now.”

The valet, true to the Duke of Byron’s service, was courteous and never let on his hardship.

“So please endure a little longer. Tonight we’ll rest at the inn, and tomorrow without fail I’ll see you safely to Vernon.”