Chapter 73
Chapter 73
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 73
Chapter Title: Schemes
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The Merelrof steward's day always began the same way.
He rose immediately to tidy the bedding, directed the servants to confirm the morning duties, and sorted various letters to bring to the office while breakfast was being prepared.
All of this had to be done before the sun rose.
Knock knock.
"Have you woken, my lord Count?"
Once he heard the Merelrof Count's reply, the steward opened the door and entered the bedroom. At the far end of the three-room suite, the count stood impeccably dressed, with his wife—who still hadn't stirred—behind him.
"The weather's definitely getting colder."
"I'll have the fireplace cleaned."
The Merelrof Count checked the letters on the tray one by one. Most were formal correspondence to maintain social ties.
"What's this?"
"Ah, my apologies."
What the count held up was a reply from Ian. Since the master showed no interest in telegrams, maintaining the external reputation was one of the steward's roles.
The Merelrof Count brushed it off nonchalantly and muttered.
"You're unnecessarily diligent as well."
Then, the count's hand paused. Ian had sent replies not only to the count but also to the countess. Without hesitation, the count broke the sealing wax and read the contents.
"This is..."
His expression suggested utter bewilderment. The bony ridges of his protruding brow stood out even more. The steward sensed wariness in the count's deeply furrowed gaze.
"It's addressed to Lady Rien?"
"Y-yes, the young lord knew you had no intention of sending a telegram, so he sent it on your behalf. The lady is so devoted to supporting you."
The Merelrof Count placed it on the table and stared holes through it. With every passing moment, cold sweat trickled down the steward's back. It was unbelievable that the day was starting like this.
"And it seems a gift was sent as well."
"He selected unused items from the warehouse."
"Personally?"
"...Yes."
"Personally selected and sent a telegram? And Ian accepted it gladly? Have the two met separately?"
The steward shook his head lightly but firmly.
It was a lump of scrap metal they hadn't even known existed. Even if the exchange of pleasantries was courteous, the count—as a noble—would know better than anyone it wasn't sincere.
Rustle.
From the innermost bedroom, the sound of the wife stirring was unusually loud. Today, it seemed the one with a foul temper wasn't just the steward.
"No, my lord Count."
"When Ian came to the central mansion, you didn't meet then?"
"Ah, w-well, we crossed paths briefly when seeing him off. But it was very, very brief, and we didn't exchange any real words."
The steward desperately added excuses, but they seemed not to reach the count's ears. His already dark complexion flushed with blood. His blood pressure visibly rising.
"Good morning."
At that moment, the countess emerged from the inner bedroom in light attire. Yawning languidly like a cat, she snatched the letter from her husband's hand.
"Why are you reading something addressed to me without permission?"
"Hey, Rien."
"Let's see what it says. Hmm. He says he likes it sincerely. Should I be pleased or not? Hahaha."
The countess laughed as if her husband's ominous mood was beneath notice. The steward turned his head, vowing to pretend he saw nothing, which only twisted the bedroom atmosphere further. It was the effect of one side being endlessly light and the other endlessly heavy.
"Prepare breakfast."
"Yes, my lord Count."
"I want venison steak today."
"Yes, my lady. I'll see to it."
"You said the same last time, and it didn't come."
"...My apologies. I'll correct it."
It was an autumn without the joy of harvest. The grand mansion was always abundant, so there were no issues with kitchen operations, but ingredients sourced externally were often hard to obtain in a single day.
Especially something like venison.
Lady Merelrof perched on the edge of the table and casually asked her husband.
"Dear, I hear the people of Bratz are all growing and eating gula. They say it's surprisingly delicious?"
"They're beasts mingling with beast cubs. Do they eat that because they have nothing else?"
"That's us, but the lower ones have different circumstances. Ian sent a thank-you and suggested meeting. Shall I go see?"
"Where? To Bratz?"
The Merelrof Count's eyes narrowed suspiciously. But the countess nodded as if it were no big deal.
"What, do you think I'd go somewhere else?"
"Nonsense. Every year at this time, it's the same complaints. No food, this and that. The Hawan Kingdom caravan will come soon, so just hold out until then. How do they lack learning? Tsk tsk."
Why would they lack learning? Because they did learn—the number of farm plots decreased each year, while territory folk opening entertainment or lodging businesses only increased. Even with winter approaching, plenty relied solely on the caravan without preparation.
'...Trouble inside and out.'
The steward bowed his head and left the bedroom. Lady Merelrof Count smiled faintly at him but said nothing more.
"Dear."
Once the door fully closed, Rien placed a hand on her husband's shoulder and asked. The count's mood was still at rock bottom.
"By the way, when is the caravan from Hawan coming?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Can't I?"
"...We got word they're departing in a month."
"A month from now. Then crossing the mountains, so a month and a half? No, maybe a month and a week..."
The count's glare sharpened at his wife's mutterings. She was always unpredictable, but lately, it was worse.
"I hope they come soon."
With that, she slipped out of the bedroom. A man polishing the hallway windows froze and glanced toward the door. The woman shot him a glare that was cold bordering on murderous.
"Clark. Polish those windows sparkling clean. Guests are coming from the Hawan Kingdom in a month."
"...Yes. Understood."
The man named Clark merely nodded in acknowledgment. He kept polishing the windows while repeating inwardly. A month from now, departing Hawan Kingdom. Departing Hawan Kingdom in a month....
* ♟ *
After Kakantir left, Ian threw himself into a full investigation of Merelrof in his office. Nothing was more important than knowing your enemy on the battlefield. Before contact, it was advantageous to learn everything related in as much detail as possible.
"But about the Merelrof countess."
"The countess?"
Romandro's subordinate rifled through the report, then tilted his head puzzled.
"We confirmed her name is Lien Merelrof, but we don't know her origins."
"You mean her family?"
"Her family too, and exactly what rank she was—we don't know her status precisely. It's been three years since the marriage, but the wedding was so modest that even many territory folk learned of it later."
Ian looked up upon hearing Romandro and his subordinate's conversation. No matter how modest, it was a count.
"You're saying there was a huge status gap."
"That's what I think. Maybe a commoner?"
"Hmm. Who knows."
Ian shrugged, recalling the oddly smiling face of the Merelrof countess. She was definitely an outsider. And above all, she knew about drippers, so her origins weren't ordinary.
"Have you tracked the caravan departing from Hawan Kingdom?"
"It's called the Ilak Caravan, cycling every five years. Including the caravan leader, about 100 people total."
"Not as large as expected."
"But the route is fixed, so many entrust themselves to it."
It was a system where traveling individuals or small caravans paid to join for safety. With over fifty such, the total scale would be roughly 150 to 200.
"Following the Ilak Caravan, more large and small caravans are scheduled every fortnight."
"Then catching those early ones is key."
"If they accept entrusts, it'll be quite easy for us."
It was Nersarn speaking. He turned the pages, slowly tracing the letters. Since it was in Bariel script, it took him longer than others.
"They'd lack manpower to respond to emergencies, and above all, they'd just be baggage."
"I agree. So we should time it accordingly. They'll aim to arrive before winter, so at latest..."
"Ah, we know the date."
Romandro's subordinate raised his hand gleefully.
"Rumors are spreading that they depart Hawan Kingdom in a month, plus time to cross the mountains before arriving."
"Rumors spreading? From where?"
"Merelrof."
Now knowing the exact date, Romandro and his subordinates cheered each other on. Only Ian remained unsmiling and still.
"Is there a problem?"
"From here to Hawan Kingdom takes ten days at most."
"No no, that's not the issue. Aren't there no bandits around here?"
Especially mountain bandits. Caravans had many mercenaries, but that meant they carried much as well. Announcing the timing in advance could make them targets for bandits. Bandits interfering could disrupt plans. It'd be best if they crossed quietly and swiftly.
"Hmm. Bandits. With the battle aftermath, there probably aren't any."
"And they have to notify the arrival time so the territory can prepare."
Ian nodded, feeling slightly uneasy. Right. It was important for the caravan or Merelrof, but irrelevant from his perspective.
"Alright. Then let's proceed..."
Thud thud thud! Thud thud! Thud!
Then it came. A resounding vibration from the end of the hallway. Someone approached at a rapid pace. Too intense for an ordinary human's footsteps.
Romandro and his subordinates quickly reached for their swords, but Ian, Nersarn, and Berik calmly closed their documents.
Bang!
"You're here?"
Berik greeted first.
"No manners."
Nersarn lightly scolded.
"Su."
"Aaah! Why me!"
Her face flushed red, fists trembling. Kakantir had sent her here immediately upon returning to the Cheonryeo.
"Well now. Making a racket right away."
"Berik! It's you! You recommended me, didn't you?"
"What power do I have? Look at me—while everyone's working at the table, I'm slumped on the sofa."
"Why! Why me? Huh? It's already cold outside the desert, and now you're telling me to climb mountains? I don't even know what those mountains look like!"
"Liar."
"Shut your mouth, Berik! I'm not in my right mind right now!"
Ian stood to greet Su first. Her upturned gaze, heaving breaths filled with resentment.
"Why do I have to go all the way to distant Hawan Kingdom and infiltrate the caravan?! Don't you have talent here?"
So that's why they called him, the one lounging around eating well? He should have known when Kakan gave him extra meat. Hawan Kingdom, of all places!
Ian smiled brightly and nodded.
"Yes. No talent. No matter how I thought, no one fit but you. Sit and catch your breath, then I'll explain the operation in detail. You've heard the basics from Kakan, right?"
At those words, Su clutched her forehead, unable to suppress a sigh.
"Ha, basics. Super basic. Infiltrate the caravan and release gula poison."