Chapter 77
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 77
"Understood. It also appears the King of Pelfe will temporarily assume the vacant presidency of the Pelfe Bank."
Oscar nodded. The faint smile on his face slowly faded until it was gone completely. Then, he gave a quiet command.
"Report the movements of King Leopold and Count Jerome to me daily."
Even if the man was known as the fool of Pelfe, his position was far from insignificant. A sudden vacancy in a post that powerful would inevitably cause ripples, and it was through such cracks that the unexpected always slipped.
"Understood, Your Excellency."
"I will prepare to leave. Wait outside."
Simon squared his shoulders and bowed deeply. As he left the office, Barbara, who had no business with him, followed.
While Simon headed from the reception room to the central hall, Barbara made her way to the dressing room.
Today was the State Council Meeting. Though Oscar loathed visiting the royal palace, it was a duty he could not shirk as Marquis Reinhardt.
With practiced hands, Barbara gathered the jacket, vest, and gloves that matched the trousers Oscar was wearing. Grabbing a small box containing a comb and pomade, she returned to the office.
Oscar was reviewing documents. Barbara set the clothes and the box in a corner before retrieving another box containing the Marquis's Insignia from the safe.
Inside the dark red case lay the family insignia, passed down through generations. Barbara smoothed down the already immaculate jacket with the side of her hand and pinned the insignia on, one by one. Her touch was reverent, her movements precise. She spaced each piece as if measuring with a ruler, checking several times to ensure none were even slightly askew. Finally, her task complete, she returned the empty box to the safe and addressed Oscar.
"Preparations are complete, Your Excellency."
At her words, Oscar, who had been standing and reading, walked around the desk. His gaze fell upon the clothes and grooming kit Barbara had laid out. Her intentions were obvious. He understood her earnest care, but the young Marquis Reinhardt was merciless, even toward the woman who had raised him.
"That’s enough. I'll just take the jacket."
"But the State Council Meeting..."
"..."
"Understood."
Confronted by his flawless, imposing expression—a perfect mask that left no room for argument—Barbara could not press the matter. In the end, she left the vest and gloves behind, handing him only the jacket adorned with the insignia.
Of course, even with just that, his splendid figure was complete. The suit, tailored perfectly to his physique, accentuated his lean, powerful frame. The slightly undone look, combined with his naturally styled hair, only made him more striking.
Oscar rinsed his mouth with water one last time and strode out without hesitation. Barbara opened the door a step ahead of him, and he swept past her into the central hall.
At his appearance, the Wolves waiting in the hall immediately straightened their posture, bowing deeply to their departing master.
The pack followed in step behind their leader.
The march of the Wolves—Oscar, Barbara, and Simon—swept around the central staircase and across the main floor of the mansion. Beyond the grand entrance, thrown wide open for him, a sturdy black carriage stood waiting.
Oscar walked without hesitation into the pouring sunlight. The piercing glare, bright enough to sting his eyes, seemed to have forgotten last night's heavy rain. Yet, the breeze drifting through the open door carried the unmistakable scent of it. As he stepped outside, the damp smell of wet earth enveloped him.
The air was heavy with moisture, and the colors of the estate grounds were deep and saturated.
Just because the sun was out didn't mean the deluge had never happened.
The Wolves lined up at the entrance turned toward him, and the one standing by the carriage opened the door.
Today would be tedious. He would bet everything he owned that it would be an unbearably long day.
He craved a cigarette before it had even begun.
Oscar strode toward the carriage, pulling out a cigarette and placing it between his lips. He paused just before boarding to light it, and a nearby wolf stepped forward to respectfully offer a flame.
But the match, which seemed poised to catch the tip of the cigarette, only flickered uselessly before dying out with a faint wisp of smoke.
The wolf holding the matchstick raised his eyes slightly.
"..."
"..."
Oscar, holding the cigarette loosely between his lips, seemed suddenly lost in thought. Though the flickering flame was reflected in his half-lidded eyes, it was clear he wasn't really seeing it.
In the end, the match burned out, its purpose unfulfilled. The wolf discarded the charred stick and pulled out a new one. Just as he was about to strike it, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from inside the mansion.
A long, heavy stride was accompanied by a much smaller, lighter set of footsteps hurrying to keep up. At the sound of the pair walking in tandem, the Wolves’ gazes secretly drifted toward the entrance, and sly, knowing smiles broke out among them.
'Abel Sting, I heard you blew it. Didn't the target glare at you like she wanted to kill you?'
'She did, but who knows? I saw her all dressed up. They don’t call her a Gold Digger for nothing.'
The sly murmurs of the Wolves seemed to hang in the air. The wolf offering the light was about to forget his duty and turn his head toward the entrance when—
"The light."
A razor-sharp voice snapped his attention back. The moment the startled wolf looked up, a pair of cold, glaring eyes met his.
"My apologies, Your Excellency!"
Turning pale, the wolf quickly struck the match. The others who had been exchanging sly glances instantly snapped to attention.
Meanwhile, the footsteps drew closer.
Oscar tilted his head and brought the cigarette to the flame. The fire caught instantly, glowing red at the tip. He inhaled, drawing the acrid smoke down his throat and deep into his lungs. Just as the smoke filled his chest, the sensation of it seeping into his bloodstream—
Seo-ah.
That damn name flashed through his mind.
The taste of the cigarette vanished.
The carriage door stood open. But that damn name rooted one of his feet to the ground, while a question that shouldn't have mattered held the other captive.
"Does it hurt a lot?"
Oscar's jaw tightened. Even now, his frayed nerves traced her faint presence behind him. If he could, he would tear out every single nerve ending in his body.
At that moment, the wolf who had offered the light bowed respectfully. His gesture acted as a catalyst, spreading through the ranks. Behind Oscar, dozens of wolves bowed in unison. Simultaneously, the heavy gazes that had been fixed on his back vanished.
With their eyes lowered, the invisible weight he always carried seemed to lift, if only for a moment. Perhaps that same weight had been holding his own gaze hostage.
Oscar, who had been staring into the darkness of the carriage, finally turned his head.
"..."
Smoke from his breath obscured his vision, but it wasn't enough to hide her from his sight.
While everyone else was bowed low, she stood frozen, a flustered expression on her face.
Her only mistake was missing the cue to bow with the others. Had she done so, she would never have caught his eye.
"Did you cry?"
"No, I didn't."
Like hell she hadn't.
The sight of her red-rimmed eyes and pale face made his stomach twist. His cruel nature stirred within him once more. At the same time, a sharp tingle spread from his lower abdomen through every nerve, from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes.
Hadn't he already taken his fill of her, to the point of revulsion?
Even as he felt disgusted with himself, the urge to whisper against her soft, pale ear flared like a wildfire.
You didn't even have the strength to keep your knees up, collapsing over and over. Where do you think you're going?
As if she could read his mind, she bit her lip again.
She bit that lip every time their eyes met, reopening the wound. At this rate, it would only heal the day she finally left this mansion.
Flustered by his fierce gaze, she finally began to lower her head in a cautious bow.
At the same time, the gazes of the bowing wolves began to drift back toward him, one by one. Oscar tore his eyes away. Then, as if he had never paused, he finally stepped into the carriage.
"When will you be back?"
Her soft voice reached him, carried on the breeze.
"..."
Oscar took a deep drag of his cigarette.
Inhaling so deeply it made his chest ache, he entered the carriage and sat down. Through the window, he saw Simon glance back at her. Beyond him, she stood frozen while Abel looked down at her, bewildered.
Oscar exhaled a cloud of smoke and spoke coldly.
"Go."
At his command, the Wolves, who had been frozen in the tense silence, sprang into action.
Simon, who had been looking back, boarded the carriage, while his direct subordinates loaded the necessary documents inside. The moment the door clicked shut, the carriage lurched forward.
The Wolves bowed once more to their departing master. This time, the woman did not miss her cue.