One Man's Crisis Is Another's Opportunity
The people sent to the capital returned four days later.
They reported their findings to Emma the moment they arrived. Emma gathered what she had heard, arranged it into order, and went to Veronica.
"My lady, the people we sent to the capital have returned."
"Well? How did it go?"
Veronica was reading, as she always was. She looked peaceful enough at a glance, but from the instant the door opened her eyes had been fixed on Emma and had not moved.
"To put it plainly, House Meisen is finished."
"Finished?"
Emma recited the compiled report in a calm, even voice.
"Lord Hans von Meisen has been arrested on charges of military procurement fraud, embezzlement, and tax evasion."
"Hmm—"
"And as the investigation unfolded, the corruption of the entire family came to light as well."
"The press? Public opinion?"
"The press has seized on it — front-page headlines, day after day. Public opinion is at rock bottom. The other nobles are falling over themselves to draw a line."
One man's crimes had brought down an entire house. Doing business with military supplies in the middle of a war — it was exactly the kind of sensational material the papers loved. Thanks to that, the investigation was moving with unusual speed.
Emma's report was cold and methodical. But a quiet anticipation lingered at the edge of her voice. Now I have a reason to throw that parasitic pretty-boy out. And the memory of that night that rises up every time I look at him — that, too, will finally be over.
"Stripping of noble rank and confiscation of all assets have been confirmed. The family has all but come apart."
Veronica listened in silence, chin resting on her hand. Her ruby eyes gleamed with a cold light.
When the report was finished, Emma spoke carefully.
"My lady, Leopold is nothing but a liability now. This is our chance to throw him out of the manor—"
"Throw him out? Why?"
Veronica cut her off. A faint smile was spreading across her lips — the smile of a predator watching prey caught helpless in a trap.
"Think about it, Emma. Leopold has nothing left. No home to go back to. No family to lean on."
"......"
"He's completely alone. Just him, abandoned in the world."
In that instant Emma read her mistress's true mind. It was a skill that came of serving the same woman for a long time. Her lady had no intention of throwing Leopold out. She was treating this as an opportunity — the perfect chance to lock a cornered rat in a cage and tame it completely.
Veronica's voice was thick with a sticky, clinging possessiveness. Emma felt a chill run unbidden down her spine. This was not the first time she had seen this side of her lady, but today it raised a particular shiver along her skin.
"...I see."
For the first time, that parasitic pretty-boy seemed pitiful. He would cling to his only remaining hope without ever knowing it was a trap built to bind him.
"That's right. If it weren't for me, he might have been dragged off by a conscription officer and died on some battlefield he couldn't even name."
"...That's true."
Veronica rose from her seat and walked toward the Detached Villa. Emma watched her back and sighed inwardly, thinking that the future waiting for Leopold might well be a hell worse than any battlefield.
The room was thick with a suffocating silence and the smell of despair. The curtains were drawn tight, so that even in the middle of the day the light could not get in. The air hung heavy, like a room left abandoned for a long time.
Leopold lay motionless on the bed. Days of refusing food and drink had left his body visibly wasted — protruding cheekbones, sunken eyes, lips cracked and dry. It was hard to believe he was still alive. His golden eyes stared, unfocused, at a single point on the ceiling.
"Still like this, I see."
Veronica sat in the chair beside the bed and looked down at him. Even at the sound of her voice, Leopold did not stir. He was like a doll whose batteries had run out.
"I came because I have something to tell you."
Veronica chose her words with care. How to most effectively shatter the last hope he had left.
"Your father, Hans von Meisen, has been arrested."
"...That's a lie."
A cracked, hoarse voice. It was not resistance so much as a desperate struggle to cling to the last scrap of hope remaining.
"The entire family's corruption has come out. Every asset will be confiscated, and the house will come apart. You have nowhere left to go."
A calm, cold delivery. A recitation of facts with no feeling mixed in at all. It was more destructive than shouting, more destructive than rage. The last thread of Leopold's reason snapped.
"...Hah."
A faint sound leaked through his dry lips. Moisture slowly welled in those empty eyes.
"It's a lie..."
"Why would I lie to you?"
"No... Father would never..."
Denial, and with it the tears sliding down his cheeks. What began as one or two drops soon burst forth like a dam giving way.
"Hic... hh-hhk..."
Leopold curled in on himself and began to cry like a child. The despair of being abandoned and the loss of knowing that everything was over crashed over him at once. Guilt over having resented his father mixed in with the rest, and his chest felt as though it would tear apart.
Veronica watched him cry in silence. She waited for his despair to reach its peak — until he fully accepted that there was nowhere left to lean, and no hope remaining.
After some time had passed, Veronica bent down and gathered Leopold into her arms. His wasted, bone-thin body trembled faintly against her.
"It's all right."
She whispered it, gently patting his back.
"Everything's going to be okay now. I'm here."
The voice was so tender and so warm it sounded like an angel speaking. But the substance of what it carried was no different from a devil's.
"I'll protect you."
The first warmth he had felt in the midst of a cold despair. With his reason paralyzed, Leopold clung to that warmth. He buried his face against Veronica and sobbed — without knowing that it was a chain that would bind him, clutching it the way a drowning man clutches the only remaining rope.
Veronica held the wailing Leopold and smiled in satisfaction. They said fortune favored the prepared. She had thought it would take much longer than this, but things had fallen into place. With this, the boy in her arms was hers.
Veronica's embrace was warm. It was the only warmth he could feel in the ashes of a world that had all come down. Leopold gripped her clothes tightly, as if terrified that even this warmth might vanish.
Veronica patted his back in silence until he calmed. By the time his tears had dried and no more would come, Leopold's sobs had subsided. She gently eased him out of her arms.
"You look a mess."
Veronica softly wiped the dried tear-tracks from his cheeks with her fingers. At that tender touch, Leopold's shoulders flinched.
"At this rate you'll actually collapse. Let's get something in you."
"...I don't want anything."
A voice like chewing sand barely made it out. Crying so hard had left him feeling emptied, but he still had no appetite at all.
"Even if you don't want it, you have to eat."
Veronica casually ignored the refusal and rang the small bell beside the bed. Before long the door opened and Emma came in. She looked over Leopold on the bed, then Veronica, in turn.
"Emma, go to the kitchen and bring some porridge. Something easy to digest."
"Yes, my lady."
Emma answered briefly and turned. Just before she left, her gaze lingered on me for a moment. Instead of the contempt that always lived in those eyes, they were full of pity — the look you give a puppy abandoned on the roadside in the rain. That pity only made me feel more wretched.
Soon Emma returned carrying a tray with a bowl of steaming porridge. She set it quietly on the bedside table and left the room without a word.
Veronica picked up the bowl, checked the temperature, then stirred the porridge once with a spoon.
"Here."
She scooped a spoonful and brought it to my lips.
"...I'll eat it myself."
I resisted in a hoarse voice, reaching out to take the spoon. But Veronica lightly pushed my hand away.
"Just stay still."
She blew on the porridge in the spoon — hoo — to cool it, then brought it to my lips again. It looked like a mother bird feeding her chick. Something about the scene was so embarrassing I shut my mouth. But the spoon gently tapping my firmly closed lips made my mouth open without my meaning to.
The warm, bland taste of porridge. The first warmth of food I had felt in days. It felt as though my cold, empty insides were slowly being heated through.
Seeing me swallow the porridge obediently, Veronica scooped another spoonful. I did not resist anymore. I had neither the strength nor the will left to resist. I simply accepted what she gave me, mechanically. One spoonful, then another. Her touch remained consistently gentle and tender.
When the bottom of the bowl came into view, she carefully wiped my mouth with a napkin.
"See? Doesn't it feel so much better when you eat like this?"
Veronica smiled in satisfaction and stroked my hair.
"Don't skip meals from now on. Understood?"
Her voice was so sweet. As if I were the most precious thing in the world.