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Chapter 14
Eanok, who had been frantically buried in work since early morning, was only able to take a break once noon arrived.
From spring onward every year, the Eisenbold family had no time to rest due to the many events that followed one after another.
While there was no need to attend every minor gathering, the Emperor’s birthday in spring and the Founding Festival in summer were national-scale events.
No matter how far the family had fallen, the Eisenbolds were still a ducal house in name, and they could not be absent. However, such major events usually required a great deal of money.
This applied not only to gifts for the Emperor but also to the fixed contributions demanded from influential noble houses.
These payments were less about taking responsibility for running the events and more about serving as proof of maintaining a certain relationship with the imperial family.
Moreover, since the amounts were not especially large, there were many cases where powerful families volunteered eagerly to pay them first.
In the past, the Eisenbold family had not found such expenses burdensome either—but times had changed.
What was pocket change to powerful nobles was a massive expenditure for Eisenbold.
They did not even have the funds to repair their city walls, and now they were expected to pay event fees. For a family that struggled just to survive, there was nothing more excessive than this.
“The expenses just keep increasing,” Eanok muttered.
“They’re openly raising the amounts,” someone replied.
“Damn it.”
Five years ago, Eanok had caused an uproar at the imperial palace and managed to lower the required contributions, but since then they had steadily risen again. This was nothing more than collusion among powerful nobles who were praying for Eisenbold’s swift downfall.
“Their greed knows no end. Do they still have something left they want?”
The Eisenbold family’s only remaining asset—and at the same time its greatest burden—was its title.
A title was foundation, justification, and symbol all at once.
And this was no ordinary title. It was one of the few ducal titles in the Empire, granted only to founding heroes or members of the imperial bloodline.
Though the family was now on the verge of ruin, the Eisenbolds’ legacy and ducal title were things no one could take away.
It was a title even the Emperor himself could not revoke.
A title that no one, no matter how much power or wealth they possessed, could ever rise above.
That was precisely why so many people hoped for Eisenbold’s collapse.
Only when Eisenbold vanished into history and the ducal seat became vacant could anyone even dream of taking its place. And so the powerful squeezed money from a family that had none, praying for Eisenbold to be completely ruined as soon as possible.
As Eanok stared at the ceiling, pressing a hand to his throbbing head, a knock sounded at the door.
At a brief reply, the door opened. Eanok flicked his eyes over and raised his brows in mild surprise.
“You’re early, Heliod. Your newlywed leave isn’t over yet, is it?”
The calm, sky-blue-haired handsome man—Heliod Nordiven, Count and Eanok’s secretary—smiled faintly.
“I had a feeling you’d be wearing that expression, Your Grace, so I hurried back.”
“There was no need. Your presence won’t solve anything. I’m more worried your wife will curse me as a terrible superior who works a newly married man to the bone.”
“You know Kallen wouldn’t do that.”
At the quiet laughter, Eanok let out a small sigh. Heliod stepped inside, glanced over the scattered documents on the desk, then looked up.
“The amount seems substantial.”
“It went up again this year.”
“Are you planning to storm over there and raise hell again?”
“This time, I’m considering pulling a knife.”
“Haha—please restrain yourself. The young master is still very young.”
Heliod laughed, shaking his head, and picked up a document.
“What does Calypson say? He’ll raise a fuss the moment he sees this.”
“I informed him earlier and told him to come here, so he should arrive soon.”
“I see. That man really has it rough. You can practically see him aging with every annual event.”
As Heliod placed the documents back on the desk and let out a deep sigh, another knock echoed through the room.
Heliod smirked slightly and turned.
“Looks like he’s here. I’ll get it.”
After Eanok nodded in permission, Heliod grasped the doorknob and pulled it open.
“You’re late—huh?”
Mid-greeting, Heliod fell silent.
Standing on the other side of the door was not Calypson, but a young maid.
Frowning in confusion, Heliod watched as the maid slipped inside and bowed deeply.
“Baron Dranarbon is currently absent.”
“Absent? He wouldn’t leave during working hours.”
“Well….”
The maid shifted her eyes uneasily, then spoke carefully.
“He was summoned.”
“Summoned?”
“Yes… the direct successor candidate asked to see him.”
“……”
At the unexpected name, Eanok fell silent, his brow furrowing.
Heliod, having stepped closer to Eanok after the maid, observed both reactions and tilted his head.
“A direct successor candidate? Who would that be?”
“…There is one.”
Eanok pressed his fingers firmly against his cheekbones to soothe his pounding head and let out a long sigh.
“There’s a peculiar girl here, claiming to be Cleora Bern.”
At that same time, Calypson—summoned out of the blue by Cleora—could not hide his disbelief.
The maid had politely called it a “summons” to Eanok, but in truth, Calypson had stormed out in anger of his own accord.
No matter how much of a direct successor candidate someone was, there were very few people who could order around the family’s financial administrator. Even Heliod, Eanok’s aide, could not do that.
That was why Calypson had snorted in derision—until Cleora left him a message, as if she had expected his reaction.
If you want your investment ledger back, be sure to come.
The moment he received the message and checked the vault, Calypson’s face turned bright red. He stormed straight out of his office—to retrieve his ledger, and to confront Cleora, who had stolen it.
“…So it was real.”
As soon as he saw the ledger Cleora casually tossed in front of him, Calypson let out a hollow laugh.
Could she really have taken this?
Even while staring straight at it, he could not believe reality. He checked the ledger again and again before finally looking up.
“How in the world did you take this?”
“Shall we leave that question for later? I didn’t call you here over something so trivial.”
“Trivial? You broke into the vault and took the investment ledger, and you call that trivial?”
Calypson trembled with fury, enough to make the gray strands in his brown hair quiver. Yet Cleora merely nodded calmly, as though unmoved.
“Now—!”
“I’ll give you time to get angry later. For now, may I ask you something?”
“……”
Faced with Cleora’s unnaturally composed demeanor, Calypson felt strangely unsettled.
It felt as though he were the one getting worked up over something pointless.
This isn’t right.
He sensed something was off—but by then, it was already too late.
“By any chance, is the Dranarbon family also ruined, with collateral branches inheriting and all that?”
“What nonsense are you talking about?”
Cleora flipped through the ledger as she spoke.
“I mean, otherwise the investment results make no sense. Everything you touch performs poorly, and in many cases you can’t even recover the principal. And that’s not all—some of these investments are in businesses Eisenbold used to run long ago. Unless you’re insane, why would you invest there?”
“Are you talking to me right now?”
“Who else do you think I’m talking to?”
As Cleora tilted her head innocently, Calypson burst out laughing.
So this is how long one must live to see everything.
A brat who looked not even half his age dared to lecture him like this.
Watching her speak as if she were someone important just because she had been given the title of “direct successor candidate” made his anger surge.
Normally, Calypson would have ignored her and stood up immediately—but this time, he spoke.
“Everyone has a mouth, don’t they?”
“Are you saying it’s easy to talk?”
“You’re quick on the uptake. Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. Speaking as an adult: the world doesn’t work the way you think it does. I don’t know where you picked up these half-baked ideas, but these aren’t matters you can spout off about so lightly.”
“Hmm.”
“The Dranarbon family has managed Eisenbold’s finances for centuries. I myself was educated from childhood as the successor. These aren’t things you can judge from reading a few lines of text. Do you understand?”
It was an answer that bordered on orthodoxy.
Certain he had shut her up, Calypson sneered.
Deciding there was no point in continuing, he slowly lifted himself from the chair.
“So stop doing foolish things and go back to await your puni—”
“Are you still embezzling?”
“What?”
“You just said it yourself. You were trained hard as the family’s successor. Doesn’t that mean you also learned how to embezzle?”
The position of financial administrator was the one most often suspected of embezzlement.
After all, they controlled all monetary flows and could siphon off or conceal money at will.
In fact, Calypson underwent regular investigations every quarter because of this.
That was why the word embezzlement alone did not normally rattle him.
But that was only when it was spoken in the proper setting.
This time, it came out far too suddenly—
and from someone he had never expected.
