Chapter 36
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 36
As Charlotte’s legitimate firstborn son, Oscar was the very source of her power. The fact that she still held the Reinhardt name, despite having borne a child, Sabine, with her longtime lover, Count Jerome, was proof enough of his influence.
“Still, how could he not come to his only sister’s birthday?”
“If you remember what Oscar bought for your engagement, you shouldn’t be saying such things,” Charlotte chided, flicking a finger against the large diamond necklace at Sabine’s throat. Gasps of admiration erupted from the women around them.
“It’s bigger and more brilliant than my own wedding jewels!”
“I’m so envious, my lady. There’s no other brother in the world who would give his sister such a necklace for her engagement.”
Charlotte adopted a stern expression. “Didn’t you say this would double as your birthday present when you pestered him to buy it for you?”
“Mother, I don’t need gifts like this,” Sabine replied, her expression downcast. “I just wish my brother had come.”
As she spoke, the noble ladies surrounding the mother and daughter chimed in sympathetically.
“I understand how the young lady feels. A party attended by Marquis Reinhardt himself… If such a place existed, I would go even if it were across the sea.”
“I feel the same way. My younger sister has been scrapbooking newspaper articles about the Marquis.”
“Mine too! I can’t even count how many papers she subscribes to just to collect photos of His Excellency. Marchioness, it’s fine if there’s no seat for me, but please, if the Marquis ever attends an event, you must let me know.”
“I wouldn’t mind if there wasn’t even a place to stand, let alone a seat.”
As the noble ladies spoke with desperate expressions, Charlotte smiled as leisurely as a well-fed lion.
“Oscar tends to avoid idle chatter, so I can’t say for sure. But if such an occasion arises, I will be sure to inform you.”
Just then, a household servant cautiously approached and whispered something in Charlotte’s ear. She soon nodded.
“I see.”
After the servant withdrew, Charlotte turned to her daughter, who was watching her with wide eyes. “Sabine,” she said affectionately, “your father is calling for you.”
“Calling for me? Isn’t he coming here?”
“A gift from His Majesty himself has arrived, but it seems it’s far too large to be brought inside.”
At that, the surrounding noble ladies began to fuss again.
“In my next life, I want to be born as you, my lady.”
“Her brother’s gift was enviable enough, but now a gift from His Majesty is too large to even be brought in?”
Sabine covered her mouth with her hand in a show of modesty as Charlotte led her daughter away.
The pair walked through the crowd of nobles, who showered them with praise. Befitting a hall designed for banquets, an external staircase led directly down to the rear garden. Servants threw open the balcony doors for them as they approached.
Sabine, who had been holding her mother’s hand, let go as she reached the balcony and darted to the railing.
In the garden, illuminated by scattered lanterns, Count Jerome was waiting for his daughter. He smiled brightly when he saw her appear.
“Father!”
Beside the Count stood an Akhal-Teke, a true king among horses, showing off its elegant form. Tossing its distinctive golden mane in the dim light, the steed looked almost like a unicorn.
As Sabine began to descend the stairs with an expression of awe, Charlotte approached the railing, a cloud of nobles flocking behind her.
“Isn’t that an Akhal-Teke?”
“The golden mane proves it! That’s a horse you can’t buy even if you have the money!”
“It seems he’s gifting the young lady the horse he received as a state gift from Ishas.”
Charlotte smiled as she listened to the nobles’ exclamations of wonder. Standing at the railing, enveloped by the crowd, she looked like a queen. Count Jerome could not take his eyes off her.
Just then, Sabine, having practically run down the stairs, rushed over, clutching the hem of her skirt.
“Father!”
Count Jerome kissed his daughter on the forehead. The girl, the spitting image of Charlotte, gazed at the King’s gift as if mesmerized before cautiously stroking its mane.
“I told you I wanted this one. I never thought you’d actually give it to me! My goodness…”
Count Jerome smiled at his daughter, then turned his head again.
Charlotte was still standing in the same spot, smiling. The most beautiful woman in the world, a woman who couldn’t be satisfied until everyone was beneath her feet. The mother of his daughter. But a woman who, in the end, had never become his wife.
Count Jerome placed a light kiss on his daughter’s forehead and whispered, “Happy birthday, Sabine.”
He affectionately stroked her hair, then took her hand and walked toward the building. “Let’s go inside. I’m worried you’ll catch a cold.”
When they reached the foot of the stairs leading to the balcony, the Count sent his daughter up first. “Go on ahead. I have a quick errand on the first floor. I’ll be up in a moment.”
“You’ll be quick?”
Sabine smiled brightly and ascended the stairs, while the Count walked toward a side door.
As he stepped into a dim corridor, someone emerged from the darkness without a sound. A figure cloaked in shadow. A shiver of dread ran down his spine whenever he saw him like this—not that any other version would be different.
The Count concealed his fear and asked nonchalantly, “How did it go?”
“Just as I told you. They’ve been decimated.”
The Count clicked his tongue softly. “They were greedy, but they were good at their jobs. I’ll have to find some new ones.”
“There’s no shortage of men willing to work for money. Don’t you worry.”
“The entire Beta Mercenary Corps… gone in a single day.”
“I’ve told you before, that’s nothing to him.”
“Did you cover your tracks properly?”
“Rest assured. I killed the mercenary leader right before he arrived and recovered all the important documents.”
The Count let out a small sigh. “You’ve worked hard.”
“By the way, since I was here, I took a look at the guests. The young lady invited far too many people on her own. There are some unvetted singers and actors mixed in. It wouldn’t hurt to be careful.”
“She said she was inviting them for her birthday, how could I stop her? Once she enters the palace, she’s a child who knows to be careful on her own, so don’t worry. That aside, have you found out anything about the woman who was coming to the capital with the Marquis?”
The figure in the darkness was silent for a moment before speaking. “Well… nothing to report just yet. If I find anything significant, you’ll be the first to know.”
The Count was also silent for a moment, then changed the subject. “Will you stay for a meal?”
The figure smiled, as if he knew the offer was purely a courtesy, and turned to leave. Then, just before vanishing through a secretly opened door, he added as if he’d forgotten something.
“It seems the Marquis has returned to the capital.”
Left alone in the darkness, Count Jerome let out a long, slow breath.
The faint sounds of laughter and music drifted in.
He reminded himself that today was his only daughter’s birthday and walked back outside. As he climbed the long staircase leading to the hall, the top of the Royal Palace came into view beyond the dark city.
The Royal Palace.
Why is it that whenever I see the Royal Palace, that damn statue in front of it is the first thing that comes to mind?
When will that statue finally mean nothing to me?
When, in God’s name?
Veins bulged on the back of the Count’s tightly clenched fist.
*
Around that time, a carriage entered the roundabout in front of the Luxen Royal Palace, which was guarded by a statue of a double-headed eagle.
Oscar, who had been reviewing documents the entire time, casually set them aside and leaned his head back against the seat. The area before the palace was unusually bright, the gas lamps adjusted to their highest setting. Royal Guards stood watch, their posture as stark and unyielding as poplar trees.
His view shifted with the carriage’s movement. Oscar’s gaze drifted upward.
His father, too, stood here. Come rain or snow, holding a long sword.
Oscar stared at his father’s expressionless face for a long moment before taking out a cigarette and placing it between his lips.
Simon, sitting opposite him, reflexively looked up from his own documents at the smell of tobacco, then glanced out the window. The back of the late Marquis’s statue was visible. When he shifted his eyes back to Oscar, he saw him resting an elbow on the open window frame. The night breeze ruffled his hair, which was as dark as the night itself.
Beyond the acrid scent of tobacco, it was as if he could smell blood. The stench of blood always lingered. Then again, when had that scent ever faded? Oscar’s nights were always like this.
For a fleeting moment, he thought of the owner of a scent like lush greenery. A woman whose whereabouts and actions were suspicious beyond compare, but who had occupied a corner of his mind for the past few days. Perhaps the momentum from his long search for the key had simply latched onto her instead. He sometimes found himself thinking of that scent.
The woman had asked if he was coming. And now, he was on his way to a manor that might as well have been built from death.
At this hour, I wonder if she’s asleep.
Or, like at the hotel, will she hesitate before finally greeting me?
He clicked his tongue in a brief, self-deprecating gesture, letting the inefficient thoughts drift away with the acrid smoke.
Simon quietly averted his eyes. He considered looking at his documents again, but by then, the carriage was already nearing the manor. As he closed the file, he heard the distant sound of an iron gate opening. It seemed the Wolves were opening it in advance for their returning master.
The carriage passed swiftly through the gate.
The forest surrounding the manor seemed to greet its returning master with a great, rustling roar. A wind, made cooler in the shade of the trees, blew against them.
Oscar stared at the forest with impassive eyes. He took a deep drag from his cigarette and exhaled slowly. A moment later, the carriage passed the forest’s edge. In the distance, he could see the manor’s wolves waiting for him. As the carriage reached the entrance of the main building, the figures standing in a line bowed their heads in a single, respectful motion.