TLDWAE 34

Chapter 34

The one who had prepared refreshments for her troubled thoughts was a butler in a tailcoat, his hair already streaked with gray, suggesting long years of service.

“At first glance, it may seem like much, but in truth, most of this is simply our staff’s routine duties. Maintaining the rooms, tending the gardens, feeding the cats—all of it is our work. There will be little that troubles you, my lady.”

“‘New mistress’?”

Not “grand duchess,” not “madam,” but mistress… Caria couldn’t help but repeat the word. It was a title she hadn’t heard from humans in a long time. The butler bowed to her with a gentle smile.

“Once you purchase the estate and become our employer, naturally you will be the mistress. We shall do everything we can so that you are never inconvenienced.”

The seasoned butler’s conduct and manner of speech left nothing to criticize. Unlike the butlers of the grand duke’s castle who had despised her as a bastard child, or those of Pandeon who knew only how to fawn over power, this man was different.

If she hired him, no matter his true feelings, outwardly he would serve faithfully. And if the butler showed loyalty, the staff beneath him would never grow negligent.

Caria wanted the estate, but more than that, ever since regaining the memories of her past life, she had long yearned for such a properly ordered system. Back then, it had been something she took for granted.

“But why, of all things, is the terrace off-limits? When I first saw this mansion, the terrace was what caught my eye. Why build it only to forbid its use?”

“That is…”

The butler trailed off awkwardly instead of answering. His eyes turned toward the count, as if seeking permission. The count, who had remained silent while the butler tried to persuade Caria, finally spoke, his tone steady as he recounted an old story.

“A few years back, someone fell to their death there. And not just anyone—my daughter and her family.”

“Ah…”

“My daughter, her legal husband, and my granddaughter. They were quarreling about bringing his estranged wife back home, and in the struggle, all three fell. My daughter and granddaughter died instantly. My son-in-law lingered three days, ribs shattered, each breath agony, until in the end he begged to be killed. Of course, I didn’t grant him that mercy—I let him suffer until the end.”

Since no one could guarantee such a tragedy wouldn’t happen again, the terrace had been sealed off.

The count surprised even himself with how steady his voice remained. He rarely ever spoke of his daughter, yet now he found his heart more troubled at the thought of Caria facing the same danger than by the pain of recalling her.

“So you’re doing this out of concern for me?”

“Concern? Don’t flatter yourself.”

But yes, he admitted it to himself. Though Caria’s face and character were nothing like Enje’s, she reminded him of her. Almost as if his daughter had led Caria to him, asking her to help in her stead.

“I see. Understood. I can enjoy the view from other windows. Very well, I’ll accept the rest of the conditions. No problems now, then?”

Caria sighed deeply, meeting the count’s eyes, which, though cold at first glance, held the faintest trace of something like kindness.

She knew she could fall not just from the third floor but from the sky itself without so much as a scratch. But since she couldn’t very well prove that, she gave up and wrote out a check. Just one—worth one hundred thousand gold.

“Well? Aren’t you taking it?”

She signed the purchase contract and held out the check, but the count only looked at it for a while before pushing it back toward her.

Did he change his mind? Caria scowled, but the count only clicked his tongue at her sharpness.

“Keep your money. All I wanted was to be rid of this wretched townhouse. If you live here well, that’s enough for me.”

“What nonsense is that? Is it too little? Should I write another—say, three hundred thousand gold at market price, old man?”

“Old man?! I’m only fifty-three! And do you even realize how much it costs to live alone? Stop throwing checks around and learn to save!”

Caria, exasperated by his overbearing nagging, snapped back at him, growling like a cat. Meanwhile, the butler quietly tended to them both on behalf of the frightened maid.

What most infuriated the count was when his longtime butler actually pleaded with Caria, asking her to be lenient because “the poor master is pitiful.”

In a fury, the count stormed out, ordering his belongings sent back to his county estate, and thus Caria came to claim the townhouse.

And now, in the present.

“You said you’d only drop by sometimes. Isn’t this a bit too often?”

Caria openly rebuked the count.

“I’m on my way down to the county for business. I came only to tell you I won’t be back for a while.”

The count brushed off her sharp words with ease. As they spoke, a young maid naturally brought in tea and refreshments. The gentle smile on her face suggested how often such conversations had occurred before.

“Your estate is practically around the corner. And who here is waiting for you that you need to make announcements?”

“If I tell you I won’t be around, you’ll grow complacent. Then I’ll suddenly appear to see if you’ve kept your promises. So don’t let your guard down.”

“You two get along well,”

Alcard muttered, sitting stiffly like a sack of grain. At once, both pairs of eyes turned sharp on him. Still, he genuinely thought they looked close.

What kind of connection could they possibly have, to grow this comfortable?

He had never once seen Caria voluntarily sit and drink tea with someone. Her face, even when bickering with the count, looked so at ease.

Her grumbling expression, her frank tone with no attempt to hide her feelings—she had never shown such sides of herself before her own family.

And for some reason, that infuriated Alcard. He forced the subject to change.

“But what’s with the guards?”

“Guards?”

“If you needed protection, you could’ve asked for knights. But mercenaries? In a royal’s house?”

He scowled at the hulking mercenary standing outside the parlor door. His brother was commander of the imperial knights, and the grand duke’s household had the famed “Red Hawks” order of knights. Why would she bring in outsiders—mercenaries, no less?

Knights were trained professionals. Mercenaries fought for coin, not honor. They could betray you if offered more. You might hire them for rough work on occasion, but to keep them close? Unthinkable.

Caria frowned, clearly displeased at being criticized.

“They’re stronger than most knights. Don’t worry.”

“Strength aside, it looks improper.”

“Better that than being saddled with knights who sneer at noblewomen. I chose them myself. Don’t insult them.”

She remembered vividly how the grand duke’s knights had treated her with contempt. Loyal to her father, they guarded her only out of duty. If she tried speaking kindly to them, she was met with silence.

And the imperial knights were even worse—they acted as if she didn’t exist at all. In the palace, not one would bow in greeting. After all, when even the emperor wanted her dead, who would dare show her respect?

Her firm, unyielding stance left no room for discussion, and Alcard’s hand tightened unconsciously around his teacup.

“So… am I less than a stranger to you?”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. Thanks for the tea. I’ll be going.”

A weight pressed on his chest; he couldn’t sit there any longer. Divorce, a new house—too many things had been said all at once.

And none of it had been shared, not even as a matter of form, with her family. Alcard, her brother, realized that distant acquaintances knew more about Caria than he did. The thought stung his pride.

“My lord, I’ll take my leave. Thank you for looking after my sister.”

“Oh? Very well. Travel safely, young lord.”

The count spoke politely, but the smoldering anger in Alcard’s eyes made him let out a quiet exclamation of interest. He had thought the grand duke’s household indifferent to her—but perhaps not all of them.

Still, caring means little if you never act on it.

In his youth, he too had believed love meant standing silently behind someone like an unyielding old tree. But his wife and daughter had scolded him often enough to teach him that was wrong.

From what he could tell, Caria didn’t even expect that much—she had no expectations of her family at all. If she didn’t want it, he had no reason to meddle.

“You’re… not ill, are you?”

Before leaving, Alcard looked back once more. His eyes clung to her, silently pleading for her to say something, anything—to stop him.

“Why ask that?”

“If you’re not, then fine.”

Caria gave neither a yes nor no. Even in that, he felt the wall between them.

With a sigh, Alcard irritably brushed back his fallen hair. As he left the mansion, Caria never once turned her head to watch him go.