NGAT 10

Chapter 10

The letter, when opened, began with a light greeting followed by the words: “I am ashamed.”

“…Yes, it seems that way.”

Apparently, his wife had contacted the Count while outside.

If they knew they should be ashamed, then they should have prevented this from happening in the first place.

Thinking so, Gillian folded the letter he had been reading, tossed it into a corner, and said,

“This works out well. If the Count is here, that woman won’t be able to entertain any further thoughts. Tell him I’ll be down shortly.”

“Yes, my lord.”

As Gillian straightened his clothes and his hair, which he himself had disheveled, he also organized what he would say to the Count.

Your daughter is out of her mind. Do you know what she dared to say to me? She asked for a divorce…

At that, the Count would surely jump up and shout that such nonsense was utterly preposterous.

The marriage had been necessary for him as well, but Gillian remembered that the one who had begged and clung to make it happen far more desperately was Count Cryant.

“Welcome, Count Cryant.”

“Duke, it has been a while.”

“The last time we met was at the New Year’s banquet, so it hasn’t been that long.”

Cutting off the Count’s greeting curtly, Gillian revealed his displeasure, then tilted his head toward the upper floor and said, as if for him to hear,

“I was just coming down after checking the letter that arrived from the post office. It is true that a problem has arisen, but there was no need for you to come all the way here just to apologize…”

If he said this, the Count would surely brighten his face, bow his head even deeper, and beg for leniency, saying such a thing would never happen again.

And indeed, as expected, the Count clasped his hands and smiled broadly.

“I am sorry to have troubled you, Duke. But how could I shamelessly let it pass without personally offering my apology? Of course, I had to come and speak to you directly.”

As he thought.

His behavior was exactly as predicted. Gillian barely managed to suppress the sneer rising between his teeth.

His wife’s madness was settled with this.

Now all that remained was to later extract money from Count Cryant, under the pretense of a “gift.”

With such thoughts, Gillian was preparing to dismiss the Count with a few suitable words when he suddenly heard something strange.

“As a father, it is disgraceful for my daughter to cause such trouble. It is my fault for not having taught her properly. So, I will take this opportunity to bring her back and re-educate her before sending her again.”

“…Take her back?”

“Yes. Didn’t you say you saw the letter? As I mentioned there, I’ll soothe and teach her so that such a thing never happens again.”

The Count spoke cheerfully with a broad smile.

A faint crack appeared across Gillian’s face.

That woman—who gave him the right to take her away again?

But unlike usual, when the Count would have noticed such a change instantly, today he was too absorbed in saying what he wanted.

“Duke, this is my sincerity.”

At Daniel’s signal, attendants waiting behind entered carrying bundles of items.

Gillian did not bother hiding his annoyance as he asked,

“…And these are?”

“Since I came to the capital, I took the chance to look around and found these. Not bad quality, wouldn’t you agree? I intend to acquire and invest in them, so I wanted to show them to you.”

What he pointed to was a finely carved statue of a hawk.

“…And those?”

“Ah, dresses for Ellen. To move people, one must use both whip and carrot, after all…”

Perhaps embarrassed to be presenting mountains of gifts right after mentioning his daughter’s “education,” he added with a slightly awkward face,

“It’s been a long time since Ellen visited the North. It’s about time she had new outfits made.”

“Ah, is that so. The North.”

Hearing that, Gillian pressed his temples, a headache rising.

Count Cryant had purchased dresses for his daughter to wear in the North.

And he had even brought gifts for Duke Crembel.

Now the shops would soon be buzzing with gossip:

The Count must truly adore his daughter. He even bought dresses for her to wear in the North. The Duchess of Crembel must be making a rare visit to her family home…

For Gillian, who had never once intended to let Ellen step foot outside the estate, this was an unexpected turn of events.

This wasn’t in the plan, but strictly speaking, it’s not necessarily a loss.

Despite his irritation, Gillian coolly calculated.

He could earn a good reputation among the people of his territory and nearby nobles.

It would also display the strong bond between their families.

And though his wife was currently making trouble under the stress of confinement, perhaps she might calm down after visiting her family.

At the very least, it was far better than rejecting the Count’s request, sending him away empty-handed, and letting rumors spread that “The Duchess of Crembel is imprisoned inside the mansion.”

After weighing this, Gillian sighed and said,

“…Very well. For your sake, I’ll allow it.”

“I’ll make sure to handle it so you won’t have to worry further.”

“I sincerely hope so. James!”

“Yes.”

“Go and fetch the Duchess.”

“…Yes.”

James answered weakly, wondering: if the Duchess accused him of insulting a noble, would his master even defend him?

“Madam.”

“After locking me up in a place like this, now you come again? Why?”

As expected, the Duchess’s voice was sharp.

At her cold retort, James quickly bowed his head.

“It’s not that… your father, Count Cryant, has come.”

“Father?”

“Yes. You must come out now.”

“You locked me away like a possession, and now you command me to come out? The Duke’s whims are truly capricious.”

“…”

James couldn’t meet her gaze and kept his head lowered.

When she descended to the drawing room, Count Cryant, who had been waiting eagerly, exclaimed with joy,

“Ellen!”

“Father. I came down as soon as I heard you had arrived.”

The Count, who looked about to rush toward her, calmed himself at her composed demeanor and spoke more gently,

“Ah, yes. Of course.”

Then, as if nothing had happened, he turned with a calm smile to Gillian and said,

“Then, Duke, we shall take our leave.”

“Very well. Don’t go too far.”

Gillian’s gaze lingered on Ellen.

Their eyes met.

The moment their gazes locked, Ellen closed her eyes and turned her head away, as though even looking at him was repulsive.

Gillian ground his teeth.

“…I trust you will resolve this matter swiftly.”

“Of course. Then, Duke, until we meet again.”

Finishing his farewell, the Count grasped Ellen’s hand and left, closing the Duke’s study door behind them.

Now, only the Count, his daughter, and the butler James remained in the corridor.

Father and daughter’s eyes met.

Ellen spoke first.

“Father. Shall we leave?”

“Yes, at once. Let’s go.”

Count Cryant pulled her hand firmly, eager to leave this place immediately.

From the outside, it looked as though she were being dragged away.

But the woman being “dragged” wore a bright, refreshing smile.

After a short carriage ride, the Count and his daughter arrived at Cryant Castle.

Ellen looked around, overcome with nostalgia.

Her hometown—the place she had painted for years only with the ink of her diary.

The snowy white castle famed as a winter landmark.

Though it was not the snowy scene she remembered, the spring greenery still made it a beautiful place.

As the gates opened, an elderly man who had spent his life breathing in the faint scent of grass welcomed them.

“Welcome back, my lord. My lady.”

At the low voice, Ellen turned her head toward the speaker.

Her eyes widened, and she ran toward the old man, crying,

“Harry!”

“Oh, my lady! You still call me that?”

His face bore the lines of age rather than youth and vitality.

Wrinkles from worrying for her, calloused hands from caring for her.

It was not a handsome face by any means, but Ellen cherished those very marks of devotion.

“You shouldn’t call me that now, not at my age!”

“It’s fine, Harrison. There’s no one here to scold me.”

“My lady…”

As Harrison sighed, Daniel chuckled warmly.

“She’s just happy to see you, that’s all.”

Ellen pulled away from Harrison’s embrace only to wrap her arms around the maid who had come to greet her.

“Sally. How have you been?”

Standing quietly behind the butler, Sally was suddenly drawn into Ellen’s arms.

Ordinarily, one might have been startled, but instead Sally calmly returned the embrace and said,

“My lady. Welcome home.”

“Yes.”

Ellen’s reply was equally calm.

After patting each other’s backs a few times, they let go.

Once, before marriage, she had been a rosy-cheeked girl. Now she was a woman, body and heart both worn dry.

Ellen smiled faintly.

“I’ve come home.”

She had longed deeply for this place that had shaped her.