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Chapter 8
Helen was briskly sorting through a stack of documents in her office when she spoke.
“Then, shall we test it once? What should I ask… Ah.”
She pulled out one paper.
“Ayla, I’ve been troubled over this waterway issue. It’s the canal between Sir Ermen’s and Sir Hutt’s estates, and there’s been disagreement over who is responsible for repairing it.”
“If it’s between Sir Ermen and Sir Hutt… you mean the Trout Canal?”
“Oh? Was that its name?”
“Yes. When the canal was first built, golden trout swam upstream, so they called it Trout Canal. There’s even a trout engraved at the bottom of its entrance to commemorate it. You can still see it if you look.”
“I see. Then who pays for the repairs?” Helen asked.
The name mattered little; the problem itself was more pressing.
“The records say Sir Ermen did the last repairs. That’s why he’s demanding repayment from Sir Hutt. But Sir Hutt insisted he should be the one to repair it, and now the matter has escalated into a dispute over usage rights.”
“The owner of Trout Canal is Solaron. Since it runs between estates, disputes over ownership were fierce. Even its usage was complicated.”
“Our family owns it?”
“Yes. Solaron paid for its construction, so tolls are to be paid directly to us. And the repairs are also funded by Solaron.”
“I had no idea…”
“Three generations ago, Ermen and Hutt still took turns maintaining it, I think.”
Words flowed effortlessly from Ayla’s mouth, leaving Helen staring with her jaw slightly open.
Looking back at the papers, Helen muttered,
“But there’s no mention of those expenses here.”
“After it was named Trout Canal, the usage fee was renamed the Trout Tax. Maybe it’s listed under that. Is there no Trout Tax?”
Helen’s eyes widened, realization striking her.
“There it is! Trout Tax! Huh? But they’re paying it in actual trout?”
“Mm, perhaps it was forgotten when Sir Hutt’s line was inherited through a cadet branch two generations ago.”
Helen gazed at her younger sister in awe.
“Ayla, are you a genius? How do you even know all this?”
Glancing around, Ayla tiptoed over and whispered in her sister’s ear.
“I studied hard… because if people ask me something and I can’t answer, they might say I’m a fraud.”
“My goodness, Ayla…”
Overcome, Helen pulled her sister into her arms. From within came the sound of Ayla’s carefree laughter.
“Still, I’m glad this could help you, Sister.”
“It helps more than you know.”
Their father’s sudden death had left Helen with no proper handover. Some retainers were loyal, but not all. And even the loyal ones might succumb to greed if their mistress seemed ignorant.
Being underage only placed Helen in an even more precarious position. In such times, Ayla’s aid was like a rope cast down from the heavens.
“Truly, Ayla, you are a genius.”
“No, Sister, you’re the genius.”
Helen beamed and pulled her close again.
“Then sit here. I’ll ask you everything I’ve been wondering.”
The sisters’ back-and-forth lasted until Lady Poppy brought in supper.
That evening, Helen pushed aside the towering pile of processed documents with a light heart.
“Ayla, you saved me. Truly. Without you, this would have taken forever. Is there something you want? Shall I buy you something?”
Ayla flusteredly waved her hands, then shyly murmured,
“Ah… perhaps I could take swimming and riding lessons?”
The memory of Sada’s scolding echoed in her mind—How can you live by a lake and not know how to swim?
Riding was also an essential skill for nobility, yet Ayla had never truly learned. She had played the part of a delicate young lady who preferred carriages and claimed horses were far too frightening.
But if she wanted to share in the camaraderie of men, swimming and riding were indispensable.
Helen’s eyes widened.
“You haven’t learned riding yet? That’s essential! And swimming… yes, it’s wise to learn that too.”
“Madam,” Poppy interjected while clearing the dishes, frowning.
But Helen replied in a calm, leisurely tone.
“There’s a lake on our lands—surely swimming lessons are acceptable. One never knows when it might save a life. And of course, I don’t mean she should splash about in our lake, where everyone can see.”
Ayla quietly nodded. She had no intention of floundering in front of the entire household.
Helen smiled warmly.
“Better to learn while you’re still free to dress comfortably. This may even save your life one day.”
Poppy tilted her head, then nodded.
“That much is true.”
“See? I’ll inform the steward.”
“Thank you, Sister.”
“It’s nothing. Compared to what you’ve done for me, this is hardly worth mentioning. My Ayla is so clever, so clever indeed.”
Helen’s praise made Ayla beam with unfeigned joy at being useful.
Fish Ornaments
Once, the Queen of the West had been Rose Solaron.
The governor’s mansion of Solaron had never ceased to host grand balls and glittering parties, and Rose had relished every moment.
But after her husband’s death, all of it came to an abrupt halt.
Rose had no intention of mourning in seclusion for three years. A year had passed since the funeral—long enough to return to society.
Though she had not yet cast off mourning attire, Rose began to appear again at salons and concerts, quietly announcing her reemergence into the western social scene.
Rose never wore gray. She insisted it drained the life from her complexion. Instead, she chose black or purple mourning gowns, the latter suiting her strikingly well.
Wrapped in deep violet and bearing a sorrowful expression, Rose Solaron was captivating—her beauty sharpened by grief, her allure enhanced by the vast pension she received.
Her first outing in a year left her feeling alive again.
When her husband, Alec, had lived, balls were constant, and she had always been their centerpiece.
Even now, she delighted in entering fashionably late, watching men’s hearts falter under her languid gaze and melancholy smile.
At least, until the news reached her.
That her wretched daughter was to attend the Sage’s Lessons alongside the Crown Prince himself.
“I had heard your youngest daughter was in poor health. Has she recovered?”
“Oh-ho, yes, indeed…”
The words caught in her throat. The image of Ayla’s dreadful cropped hair flashed before her eyes.
Claiming sudden illness, Rose fled the salon and returned in haste to the Solarun estate.
She flung off her shawl and shouted,
“Ayla! Ayla Solaron!”
The butler blinked in confusion as she stormed into the reception hall.
“Bring Ayla to me—at once!”
The mansion was thrown into turmoil.
Ayla, who had been writing letters to Luka and Sada, rose as Lady Poppy burst in breathlessly.
“Young Lady Ayla, your mother is calling for you.”
“Mother? But at this hour, she should be attending social calls.”
“Indeed…”
Lady Poppy’s troubled expression silenced her. Something unpleasant had surely happened.
Yet no memory surfaced of what it could be.
Poppy straightened Ayla’s clothes before sending her into the reception hall.
Rose was reclining on the sofa, hand pressed to her temple as if in pain.
When she saw Ayla enter, her face twisted with distaste.
“Heavens, seeing that hair again is even more appalling. And with that look, you think you’ll attend the Sage’s Lessons?”
“…Pardon?”
“No, you won’t. Tell me now that you’ll refuse. I don’t know what you said to Helen, but that is no place for you.”
Ayla hesitated, trying to grasp her mother’s meaning. Her silence only deepened Rose’s scowl.
“What will people think, seeing you in such a state? What of the honor of the Solaron name? Don’t do anything so foolish.”
Ayla faltered.
‘So… she wants me to stay away from the Sage’s Lessons? Then I wouldn’t have to see the Crown Prince… and Mother so clearly hates it. Well…’
At that moment, the door burst open with a crash.
“Don’t speak such nonsense!”
Helen’s voice rang out like a bell as she strode into the room.
