Chapter 101
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 101
Stepping down from the carriage, Charlotte adjusted her fur shawl and swept a cold gaze over the bowing household staff. Though they all bowed deeply, not a single soul welcomed her. Far from being pleased to see her, they treated her like an intruder; she knew they would undoubtedly run to Oscar to report her arrival.
It was utterly laughable.
Whose manor was this, anyway? And who was the woman who had given birth to their master?
Charlotte held her head high and strode past the Wolves. After passing the statue of a roaring wolf, she stepped onto the black-stone floor and headed toward the red-carpeted staircase without a moment’s hesitation. The maids she had brought from the Jerome family followed close behind.
Moving past the Jerome maids, Barbara fell into step right behind Charlotte.
“Marchioness, His Excellency is currently out.”
“He keeps busy from the early hours, I see.”
Charlotte feigned ignorance, though she had come precisely because she knew Oscar was away.
“We expect it will be quite some time before he returns.”
“And?” Charlotte stopped on the landing. “Have I come somewhere I am not welcome?”
At Charlotte’s overbearing question, Barbara bowed her head. Charlotte smiled softly and resumed her climb.
“You seem to have forgotten, but this is my manor.”
The company Oscar had built belonged to him, but the manor itself was another matter. As an inheritance from the previous generation, her claim to it as his mother was indisputable. While Charlotte could not interfere in the management of Oscar’s company, she had absolutely no reason to seek his permission to come and go from this estate.
The only reason she had avoided the manor until now was her reluctance to face the estate’s Wolves, who treated her like an intruder, and her lack of desire to needlessly provoke Oscar.
But today, she had things to confirm.
Two things, to be exact.
First, the woman Oscar had reportedly brought here. Second, Oscar’s reaction.
Reaching the top of the central staircase, she was greeted by the grand hall, as magnificent as ever. Its towering pillars, gilded in pure gold, and the breathtaking ceiling mural depicting a mythological scene shone brilliantly. While the Jerome maids stared up in awe, Charlotte marched toward the Marquis’s chambers without a second’s pause.
Sensing that Charlotte was about to fling the door open, Barbara moved instantly, stepping in front of her just as her hand reached for the handle.
Slap!
Just as her daughter had once done, Charlotte struck the wolf across the face without warning. Yet Barbara did not even flinch, let alone turn her head. Infuriated by her utter lack of reaction, Charlotte gritted her teeth and slapped her again.
Slap!
Everyone held their breath. The Wolves glared at Charlotte, their eyes burning with silent fury, while the Jerome maids squared their shoulders, emboldened by their mistress’s dominance.
“Move.”
“Marchioness.”
“Indeed. I am the Marchioness.”
“…”
“I am entering my own son’s chambers. Who do you think you are to stand in my way? If a mere servant like you is permitted inside, why should I, his mother, be barred?” Charlotte whispered with a sweet, gentle smile, as if she hadn’t just struck the woman. “In this house, there is no door I cannot open.”
The Marquis’s door, which no one else dared touch, was flung open by the hand of his cold-hearted mother. As Charlotte stepped into the chilly room, the Jerome maids filed in behind her.
Barbara signaled the Wolves behind her with a quick glance before hurrying inside as well.
Charlotte moved like someone on a search. Her usual leisurely, poised stride was gone; she swept through the reception room with hurried steps and marched straight into Oscar’s dressing room. One might have expected her to scrutinize his wardrobe to find fault, but surprisingly, she paid no attention to the clothes. After a brief glance at the adjoining bathroom, she turned and returned to the reception room.
But she wasn’t finished.
Returning to the reception room, Charlotte bypassed the office and walked straight into Oscar’s bedroom. She wasn’t looking for some small trinket. She was searching for something large—something too bulky to easily hide, something that would inevitably occupy physical space.
The thought of Seo-ah flashed through Barbara’s mind the moment Charlotte stopped in front of Oscar’s bed. With an unreadable expression, Charlotte stared at the bare mattress, stripped down to its sheets. It seemed the other Wolves hadn’t had time to replace the bedding yet.
“We were in the middle of changing His Excellency’s bedding,” Barbara said quickly.
“…”
“Allow me to escort you to the drawing room. Please, Marchioness.”
Despite Barbara’s urgent plea, Charlotte’s gaze drifted to the door leading to the study. As Charlotte had pointed out, this manor was her home; she knew perfectly well that another room lay beyond that study door.
“Marchioness!” Barbara called out sharply, but Charlotte marched toward the study without a second thought.
She had already penetrated Oscar’s bedroom—the very heart of his private quarters. There was no reason to stop now. She threw the door open, revealing a study lined with ancient, dusty books. After a swift sweep of the room, her eyes locked onto the door leading to the adjoining chamber.
It was the closest room, offering direct access to the Marquis at any time. Back when Ernst was alive, the wolf who followed him like a shadow had occupied it. Under Oscar’s rule, it would make sense for Simon von Bernheim to be the one using it.
Yet, even during Ernst’s lifetime, Charlotte had harbored a different thought about this room.
If the Marquis of Reinhardt had a secret lover, what better place to hide them than here?
And on Oscar’s bedsheets, she had spotted a long strand of brown hair.
“Marchioness, no one occupies that room,” Barbara Wald said, her voice rising.
Ignoring her, Charlotte flung the door open.
The room was empty. Yet, the moment the door swung open, a distinct wave of warmth brushed against her cheek.
She stepped slowly into the room. It was immaculately tidy, resembling a well-kept hotel room awaiting a guest. The faint, pleasant scent of soap lingered in the air.
Charlotte scanned her surroundings before walking over to the bathroom door. She pushed it open, and her brow twitched. Closing the bathroom door quietly, she began to search the room like a hunter tracking prey. Her eyes eventually landed on a wardrobe large enough to hide a person. Her demeanor now was a stark contrast to the casual glances she had given the reception and dressing rooms.
“Please, let us go,” Barbara urged. But with Oscar absent, no one in this manor could stop her.
Charlotte crept toward the wardrobe like a predator closing in on its prey.
The warm air was one thing, but the moisture in the bathroom had not yet dried.
Someone is here.
Oscar had allowed someone into his most private sanctuary. A person he wanted to hide, or perhaps someone he wished to keep close at all times.
Charlotte pulled the wardrobe door open.
“…”
It was the woman with the red ribbon—the one who had reportedly attended Sabine’s exhibition.
That vivid red ribbon, which had felt so strangely significant, was right there inside the wardrobe. And in that dark, cramped space, of all places, Charlotte came face-to-face with the woman who would utterly demolish the tower she had so painstakingly built.
A tower of selfish peace, built upon names written in blood.
*
Seo-ah had been in the middle of applying ointment to her bruises.
The quiet was suddenly shattered by noise, and she sensed someone entering the study. Her hand froze midair as she instinctively read the presence beyond the door.
As if she were watching with her own eyes, the layout of the study mapped itself out in her mind.
Even in her childhood, long before she received any training or understood her ability, she had been able to detect the presence of Reinhardt’s elite agents, even when they deliberately concealed themselves. To be precise, it wasn’t that she possessed incredibly sharp hearing; rather, she could read the flow of the fundamental energy that composed all things. She had been able to do it naturally for as long as she could remember.
Theresia had called this flow of energy ‘mana,’ and she referred to Seo-ah, who could read its currents, as ‘the Seer.’
Thanks to her innate talent and the master who had recognized and trained it, she possessed a ‘Third Eye.’ This Third Eye, independent of physical sight, allowed her to perceive the very essence of things far more clearly than any ordinary eyes could.
She had learned many other things from her master as well.
How to engrave a person’s face in her mind after a single glance, how to move without making a sound, and how to read human hearts.
Yet Theresia had always said of these skills, “I did not teach you these things; they were already within you.”
The presences in Oscar’s room numbered six… No, there were several more Wolves following behind them. They were all women, and one of them was Barbara.
This was highly unusual. The study was one thing, but Oscar’s bedroom was a sanctuary that only a select few, like Barbara, were ever permitted to enter. Why were so many people invading that space?
“Marchioness, no one occupies that room.”
“!”
Staring at the door with bated breath, Seo-ah realized the moment she heard Barbara’s raised voice that it was a warning meant for her. She had no time to wonder why. She frantically swept up her belongings. Fortunately, the bed was made, and she hadn’t left any clutter lying around.
The only place to hide was the wardrobe.
Gathering her things, Seo-ah slipped inside the wardrobe like a shadow. The moment she pulled the door shut without a sound, the bedroom door swung open. Seo-ah held her breath.