Chapter 36: The Fall
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 36: The Fall
Aenya and I were never properly educated. We should have been taught at the baron's castle alongside the children of other vassals, but I was exempt as the sole heir, and Sophia's interference kept Aenya away.
I managed to escape my ignorance by regaining the memories of my past life, but Aenya still had a long way to go.
‘If she grows up like this, Aenya will be nothing more than a pretty mannequin.’
The Blood Princess was the daughter of the former king—a princess. Meaning, there was no better female educator than her.
The environment was ideal, too. Wasn't she keeping her distance even from her own vassals because of her ability? Under her tutelage, Aenya could learn to prevent the problems her beauty would inevitably cause.
Moreover, if witches' powers didn't work on each other as they did in the game, the Blood Princess, who was bound to be lonely, would have no choice but to grow fond of Aenya.
In other words, it was a chance to help Aenya mature mentally while also making an ally of the Blood Princess.
The only problem was whether Aenya would accept it.
“You certainly seem relaxed.”
I had just returned from Quaran and was stepping into the mansion when I froze. I’d heard a voice I shouldn't have. A man was rising from a shadowy corner of the entrance hall.
“Zaenbold?”
It was Zaenbold, the son of a civil official on his deathbed and a secretary to the baron.
He had once been my closest friend, but he grew disappointed and left when I fell for Roland's schemes and became a scoundrel. This was the first time we had seen each other in years.
“Do you have any idea what's happening in the capital city right now?”
How was I to interpret Zaenbold's sudden appearance? The fact that he was the baron's secretary bothered me.
I once thought of him as a friend I could entrust my life to, but the magic of time has a way of tangling everything up, doesn't it?
“I know the situation on the battlefield is not good. My father requested additional supplies not long ago.”
Thanks to the confiscation of Bertio's assets, I had some leeway, but I hadn't sent any provisions. What could be more foolish than investing in a war destined to be lost?
“Ha, it's far worse than 'not good'! We're on the verge of having to hand over not only reparations but also the taxation rights to several villages in the border region!”
“How unfortunate.”
I already knew this, thanks to the memories of my past life. And that wasn't all. I also knew that the baron, having lost land and rights bit by bit to the rival noble with whom his relations had soured because of this war, would soon be ruined.
I couldn't possibly not know, since the Aenya I sold to the baron in the game, in exchange for protecting my small manor, ended up becoming that noble's mistress.
A future that would no longer come to pass.
Zaenbold, however, interpreted my indifference differently.
“Unfortunate? Is that all you have to say? You fool! A knife is at your throat, and you don't even realize it! Do you think that stingy, disgustingly greedy baron will let his own assets be taken?”
Zaenbold's gaze was the same as the day he'd declared our friendship over. No, back then I thought it was only disappointment, but there was a hint of pity hidden within it. I could only see that now.
It was a strange feeling. Memories and emotions I thought I had forgotten came flooding back. Without showing any of it, I asked.
“So? Is there any other way?”
“…The baron intends to hand over a vassal's land instead.”
“What? How is that possible? Not only the vassal in question but the other vassals would never allow it. The baron must know that forcing something like that could lead to a rebellion, right?”
In truth, I knew the baron would commit this absurd act. The reason he’d run his domain into the ground was that he lost the trust of his vassals over this very incident.
“Hmph, do you think a stingy baron would have any sane vassals under him? Most of them are the 'as long as it's not me' type, and things are already moving in that direction.”
A sneer touched Zaenbold's lips. Was it directed at me, or at the foolish vassals who didn't realize they could be next?
“What about the vassal in question? He would surely oppose it.”
“If there were a vassal left to oppose it.”
The sneer vanished from Zaenbold's face. For a moment, he seemed to be gauging my reaction.
I understood why Zaenbold had suddenly come to see me.
“My father is dead, isn't he?”
“…Yes. They say he was struck by a stray arrow during the war. Who would have thought that the man renowned as the strongest knight in this region would die like that? Truly, it was bad luck.”
“Bad luck—”
I let out a short, bitter laugh. Was my father's death really a coincidence? If I hadn't regained my memories, Sophia and Roland would have seized control of the family around this time. The moment my father died, they would have revealed their true colors and swallowed the manor whole.
However, it probably wasn't part of a plan for war reparations. Sophia came to the mansion before the war even started.
‘He must have thought it better to offer up a vassal's land, one he'd already packaged nicely for himself to devour, than to lose his own.’
Zaenbold frowned.
“You're laughing? Is this the time to laugh? It seems you don't believe me…”
My information from the game was fragmented. A side effect of not being the protagonist. I had always wondered how I’d managed to strike a deal with the baron before losing the manor, and now the answer was right in front of me.
Friendship—
“If I can't trust my only friend, who can I trust?”
“You…”
Zaenbold’s brow furrowed. He almost looked embarrassed.
“Don't worry. The baron won't be able to take my land.”
If the good-for-nothing from the game, who knew nothing, didn't lose the manor, how could I? On the contrary, I planned to use this as an opportunity to devour everything the baron had.
“This is no time for bluffing!”
Zaenbold didn't know the new me. He took my declaration as empty bravado and voiced his frustration.
Just then, a sound came from the stairs leading to the second floor. Someone was ascending them quickly. The curvaceous back, with its alluring ins and outs, was incredibly familiar.
‘Sophia.’
#
‘Maxim is dead…?’
Sir Maxim Tobalts was a knight renowned for his strength in this region. Having lived with him, Sophia knew better than anyone that he was much stronger than he appeared.
But he was dead? She knew battlefields were like that, but it was hard to accept.
The problem was that he had been her last hope.
She thought she could escape Allen's clutches once Sir Maxim Tobalts returned, but at this rate, she would never be free.
‘I have to tell the baron… I have to tell him…!’
Of course, she wouldn't be well-received. She had been sent to reclaim the manor, only to be swayed by a mere scoundrel. She might even have to return to her past, a life more miserable than a serf's.
Compared to that, Allen's embrace would be warmer. Wasn't he a man who was impeccably warm to his own woman?
‘Ah, no. Absolutely not…!’
Just thinking of him made her body react like a conditioned reflex. Feeling the dampness between her legs, Sophia bit her lip. She could never succumb to mere physical pleasure.
Never.
‘A letter won't work.’
The servants were already on Allen's side. The three of them had openly spent the night in the master bedroom, yet no one had raised an issue. Even more frightening, not a single rumor had spread.
It was proof that Allen's influence was so solid not even a needle could slip through.
If she entrusted a letter to a servant, they would surely deliver it straight to Allen. This meant she had to act herself.
Dressed lightly with only an overcoat thrown on, Sophia rushed out of the master bedroom. The two men in the entrance hall were gone. Had they moved? There was no time to check. It was late, and Allen would soon come looking for her. Just as he did every night.
“Hiyah!”
Sophia kicked the horse's flank hard.
The village at the foot of the hill was shrouded in darkness. It was silent, as if even the rats and birds had gone to bed. The occasional torches along the main road guided Sophia toward the village entrance. But there were others waiting.
A group of people was gathered at the village entrance. So many torches pushed back the curtain of night that it was as if that one spot was bathed in daylight.
“Whoa, whoa, clear the way!”
Sophia shouted, pulling on the reins. The horse reared its front legs threateningly, but the villagers didn't budge. They simply stared up at her, their faces shadowed and silent.
‘How dare mere serfs ignore me?’
Anxiety outweighed her anger. The sensitive horse sensed its rider's unease and took a step back.
“Do you not know who I am? I am the mistress of House Tobalts!”
Sophia yelled, tugging at the reins irritably. Only then did a man step out from among the villagers. He bowed his head and spoke.
“Lord Allen has ordered that no one be allowed to leave.”
Sophia felt a heavy stone drop in her heart. When on earth had he mobilized the villagers? Right after he saw her eavesdropping? Then why was he only blocking her and not chasing her? Could it be… he wanted her to return on her own?
The important thing was that if she returned now, she would never be able to escape Allen's clutches.
Sophia composed herself and spoke calmly.
“I have urgent business, so stand aside. I will speak to Allen about this later, so you need not worry about being reprimanded.”
“My apologies, Madam.”
“Hngh…! Do you truly wish to die!”
Neither persuasion nor threats worked. The villagers simply bowed their heads and refused to move. They had no choice.
Sophia had only settled here after marrying Sir Maxim Tobalts. Moreover, she had kept her distance from the serfs, who reminded her of her miserable past, so she had little influence in the village.
Allen, who had settled here after his father was granted the fief, was in a similar position, but the difference was that he had imprinted his influence on them through his countless acts as a scoundrel.
That difference was revealing itself now.
“The night is deep, Madam. Please return.”
Furthermore, the servants who came and went from the mansion had shared news of the shift in power, which also compelled the villagers to obey Allen.
The village chief bowed his head again, but it was not a request. Sophia, who had never been treated this way, contorted her face.
“How dare you! I will not forget this!”
Her bravado was short-lived. As she turned back, Sophia's teeth began to chatter. It certainly wasn't from the cold.
‘What do I do now…?’
The henchmen who could have helped Sophia were either dead at Allen's hand or had left. The servants had turned their backs on her as if they’d never been loyal. The villagers looked down on her and refused to obey.
She was completely and utterly isolated.
‘Wait, could it be…?’
Sophia's gaze shifted to the mansion on the hill. For a coincidence, this isolation was too perfect. Only then did it occur to her that this all might be Allen's conspiracy.
Perhaps he even knew of Sir Maxim Tobalts's death. She didn't know how that was possible, but it was the only way to explain how he could so brazenly reveal his relationship with Aenya and lay a hand on her.
In the end, she had been dancing in the palm of Allen's hand. It was a conclusion without a shred of clear evidence, but the more she thought about it, the more certain she became.
Not that it changed anything. If anything, the depth of Allen's scheme only filled her with more despair.
‘Is this really the end?’
Just as her last hope was about to be crushed.
“Madam? Do you perhaps need assistance?”
A voice called out to her as she wandered aimlessly at the edge of the village. It came from the shadows of an alley. Sophia instinctively reined her horse back.
“Wh-who's there!”
“My name is Mari, Madam.”
The owner of the voice stepped out of the shadows. She was a young maiden with a pretty face for a serf.
“I didn't ask for your name!”
“Please do not be alarmed. I am here to help you, Madam.”
“Help me? Why would you?”
“I want revenge on Allen, that scoundrel.”
Just as Sophia was about to ask another question, the sound of horse hooves echoed from nearby. Was Allen finally coming after her? As a panicked Sophia fidgeted anxiously.
“This way, please.”
Mari led Sophia to a nearby building. With no other choice, she couldn't refuse.
It was dark inside the building. A single candle was the only source of light. For that reason, Sophia felt a sense of relief.
“Revenge? What are you talking about?”
“He is the man who violated me in front of my husband. My husband took his own life because of it. Since that day, I have waited for a chance at revenge.”
“Ah, so that was you.”
Sophia recalled a story the servants had been chattering about. She had dismissed it as something that had nothing to do with her, but hearing it from the woman herself, she could guess the depths of her hatred for Allen.
“Yes, Madam. The moment that scoundrel ordered the village blocked so you couldn't leave the manor, I knew my chance had come. You must hold his weakness. A weakness that can bring him to ruin.”
Hatred and rage dripped from every word. Still, Sophia suspected her. Could this also be one of Allen's tricks? The problem was, she had no other choice.
“Yes. If I can just contact the baron, I can drive him out. I might even be able to make him worse off than a serf.”
Using incest as a pretext, she could even have him excommunicated. Considering that the excommunicated were not treated as human in this era, Allen would have to pay a price far greater than death.
Mari knelt before Sophia.
“Please, I beg you, entrust this task to me.”
“How can I trust you?”
“Do not trust me. Instead, trust my hatred for Allen.”
Sophia wiped her face. In truth, she was in a position where she had to grasp at straws.
“Very well. I will write a letter. Take it and ride to the capital city to deliver it to the baron. If you succeed, I will grant you enough wealth to live the rest of your life in leisure.”
As if she had been waiting, Mari produced parchment, ink, and a quill pen. Sophia immediately wrote the letter. After sealing it with candle wax and pressing the ring she never took off her finger into it, she handed it to Mari.
“You must deliver this to the baron as quickly as possible. Can you do it?”
“I will stake my life on it.”
“I'll give you my horse. Leave now. Quickly.”
Sophia urged, pressing the letter into Mari's hand. Mari glanced down at it, then looked up and smiled.
“There is no need for a horse, Madam.”
“What nonsense is this! It takes a week to reach the capital even by horse! Did you not hear me say you must go as quickly as possible?”
Mari didn't answer. Instead, she turned and opened the door.
Creeeak.
The sound from the unoiled hinges was ominous. There was someone beyond the door. The moment a familiar shadow stepped into the room, Sophia's breath caught in her throat.
Mari prostrated herself before him as if in a deep bow. Then, she raised the letter with both hands and offered it to him.
“Ah…”
Sophia stumbled backward. The man who took the letter raised his head and looked at her.
“Mother. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”