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Chapter 51
“Are you telling us to believe that?”
With her arms crossed and face closed off, Isis scoffed.
“You’re saying what’s going around the capital isn’t an epidemic? Even a snot-nosed street urchin wouldn’t believe that.”
“Isis, mind your manners.”
“But Father! When you went to visit them, they locked up the duke’s residence and refused to meet you. They kept delaying the payment too, and now they just show up unannounced spouting this nonsense!”
Isis’s reaction to learning the truth about the epidemic was far from positive.
Contrary to Count Esta’s confident assurances, he hadn’t even been able to set foot near the duke’s estate, which left him thoroughly frustrated.
In contrast, Count Esta wore an expression that gave nothing away.
“If you don’t believe me, then there’s nothing I can do. But… do you have any other options?”
Sip. Peter took a drink of steaming rooibos tea, only to frown. The tea was made with high-quality leaves, but in the musty capital air, nothing tasted right.
“As long as we’re holding out, your chances of dealing with the Tetrad are slim to none.”
“You…! So this was your plan from the beginning! I knew something was fishy the moment you handed over those rare spices without a fuss! You gave them away fully intending to take them back later!”
“Isis!”
At Count Esta’s thunderous voice, Isis clenched her fists, shaking with anger.
“I don’t want to hear any more of this, Father. I knew it when that bastard Patrick started spewing nonsense! There’s no need to associate with those arrogant Godwins!”
“Watch your mouth, Isis! How can you be so reckless and rude!”
Count Esta slammed his hand on the table at his daughter’s outrageous behavior.
Despite the shouting, Peter remained composed. After spitting the disappointing tea back into his cup, he rinsed his mouth with a glass of water.
“My apologies, Young Lord. My son has a bit of a fiery temper.”
“It’s fine. My younger brother did behave disgracefully, after all.”
“Still, I must agree that what you’re saying sounds unrealistic. Poisoning, antidotes… it all seems far-fetched.”
“As I said earlier, you’re free to believe what you want, Count. But are you sure you can afford to be so relaxed? They say the public resentment toward House Esta is just as strong as that aimed at the North.”
“So, what exactly are you trying to say?”
“Nothing in particular. I’m just a concerned ex-almost-in-law, that’s all. Just wondering what would happen if the other nobles, sensitive as they are to public opinion, stopped using your shipping lines.”
Patrick leaned his cheek into his palm and tilted his head with an innocent smile.
“You know better than anyone how sensitive nobles are to public sentiment.”
✦✦✦
“Then I’ll have the equipment needed to produce the antidote delivered to your estate today.”
With a satisfied expression, Peter gathered the contract stamped with Count Esta’s seal.
With no other options left, Count Esta had no choice but to accept Peter’s offer.
He still looked suspicious, but Peter didn’t care.
Having done his part, Peter stood up from his chair with a spring in his step.
“Ah. Before I go, let me apologize for the disgraceful behavior of Patrick.”
“Dis… ahem.”
The ever-cultured Count coughed awkwardly at the harsh language from the refined eldest Godwin son.
“He’s my brother, but honestly, he’s an idiot. He couldn’t even recognize the treasure by my side and chose to flirt with some other girl instead.”
Muttering as if it were just pathetic, Peter scanned Isis and Count Esta.
“I’ll make sure you’re adequately compensated for any distress caused by my brother. After discussing with my father, I’ll send someone to your estate soon. I’ll also pay the full amount for this transaction at that time.”
“Wait a moment, Young Lord.”
As Peter turned to leave, Count Esta called out and pointed to the antidote recipe that came with the contract.
“How on earth did you come to possess something like this?”
“Hm? Didn’t I mention? It was the duchess who discovered it.”
“…You’re saying Letrisha figured this out?”
An awkward silence filled the room.
“Hah! Surely you’re mistaken, Young Lord. That halfwit Letrisha? She can’t do anything!”
“‘Halfwit,’ you say, Young Miss Esta? That’s quite a rough word to use for your precious sister.”
“‘Precious sister’? Now that’s a joke.”
Peter’s dimples deepened at the obvious sneer meant for him to hear.
“My, my. Seems my brother isn’t the only one with poor judgment.”
“Are you referring to me?”
Peter didn’t respond, but his deepening dimples seemed to say, Who else could I be talking about?
“To think someone as intelligent as Her Grace is being underestimated like this… Honestly, it’s disappointing.”
Peter’s tone, as if scolding a child who didn’t know any better, made Isis feel mocked—and furious.
“Wow, thank you, Young Lord, for your deep concern over our family dynamics. But shouldn’t you be more worried about your own household?”
“What do you mean, Lady Esta?”
“I’m talking about the Duke. The capital is buzzing with rumors that he’s bedridden and gravely ill. Should you really be worrying about us?”
At Isis’s provocation, Peter’s eyebrows danced like waves.
“If your business here is done, shouldn’t you be going to see your father?”
“Haha. I don’t know what to say. How thoughtful of you to worry about my father’s health.”
As Peter adjusted his robe and spoke lightly, the tension among the servants visibly eased.
They’d been on edge, fearing Isis’s recklessness would escalate into a full-blown confrontation.
“Well, since you’re so insistent, Lady Esta, I suppose I’ll be on my way.”
“Oh, you’re leaving? Alright then. Take care, Young Lord. Do pass along my regards to Duke Godwin.”
“Certainly.”
It seemed Count Esta was just as eager to see Peter gone. His voice became noticeably more relaxed as he watched the power play between Peter and Isis as though it were none of his business.
Peter, not liking that change in tone, couldn’t resist one last jab.
“Although, I wonder if my father will even be pleased to see me. Our family’s not all that close, you see.”
Thud! He dusted his robe dramatically and turned to leave with regal flair.
“Nero, let’s go.”
“Shall we head back to the manor?”
“Yeah, for now. Ah—Nero, you know…”
“Yes?”
“I already miss the North. It was so much fun. This place is full of annoying people.”
“Anyone listening would think you lived there for months. You were barely there a few days.”
Peter playfully picked at his ear, pretending not to hear.
“At this point, we need to spread the antidote fast. If the disease is contained and public opinion turns positive, we’ll have an excuse to go back north.”
“Hmm. I doubt His Grace up north would welcome you back regardless of your excuse.”
“Well then! Let’s get moving quickly, shall we?”
“…Are you even listening to me?”
“Hmm? What? Can’t hear you. Hey! Nero, why are you so slow? Let’s go already!”
Peter, always saying only what he wanted and ignoring the rest, marched off—leaving Nero to follow with lifeless eyes and a sigh.
“Yes, yes. I’m coming.”
✦✦✦
“What?! My brother went to Count Esta’s estate? Instead of coming straight home?”
Patrick scowled, frantically tying his cravat. He had just been on his way to the palace when he heard Peter had returned and hurried back to the manor.
Patrick had always felt inferior to Peter, who was superior in every way, and he checked himself from head to toe, determined not to show any weaknesses.
“Why would he go there? I’ve worked so hard keeping Count Esta away from the manor all this time. What was the point if he’s just going to barge in like that?”
Frustrated, Patrick yanked at the cravat that just wouldn’t sit right today.
“Peter Godwin… What the hell are you plotting now? First the trip up north, and now this?”
“Young Master, please lower your voice… there are many eyes watching.”
Prompted by a servant’s whisper, Patrick looked around. Indeed, many in the street were staring at him.
Among them, a young girl holding a basket of flowers cautiously approached.
Was she trying to sell flowers?
They probably cost a cent each. The wildflowers were already browning at the tips, and Patrick’s golden eyes filled with disdain.
