“It doesn’t seem true that he handed her a poisoned drink. Attempting poisoning might be a bit…”
“Then what about the strangling? Isn’t poisoning and strangling essentially the same?”
“Then, is it true that he tried to throw her off the terrace on the fourth floor?”
“Well, whatever the truth is.”
The woman who had initially brought up the story about Count Donovan fanned herself with a fan and continued.
“What’s clear is that Count Donovan committed an act deserving of death.”
“Exactly!”
“How dare he target the Duchess…”
“Is Count Donovan still alive?”
“Yes, unfortunately, he is still alive.”
“Oh my goodness. Did the Duchess of Axid forgive him?”
“How could she make such a decision…”
“Indeed, the wife of a hero is different. She should be called a saint.”
☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓
“Do you remember Count Donovan?”
“That scoundrel who deserved to die?”
“Yes, that scoundrel has gone bankrupt.”
“Really? Bankrupt?”
“How did that happen? Wasn’t Count Donovan a wealthy man?”
“Well, they investigated him and found a problem. It’s suspected that he accumulated his wealth through illegal means. So, most of his assets were seized by the kingdom.”
“Oh my.”
“And his remaining assets… the people who had lent money to him took them all.”
“But why did Count Donovan suddenly get investigated?”
“I don’t know either.”
“So how much does he have left now?”
“They say he only has a single mansion left.”
“What a shame, tsk tsk.”
☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓
“Count Donovan, who deserved to die but only lost his wealth, has sold his mansion and title!”
“He sold his title too?”
“Why?”
“Because he incurred gambling debts and needed to pay them off.”
“He gambled? Even when he only had one mansion left?”
“I’m surprised too. But Count Donovan—actually, former Count Donovan—claims he was scammed.”
“Scammed?”
“He says the game was rigged from the start.”
“What is he saying…?”
“People who waste their wealth on gambling always make similar excuses.”
“Pathetic.”
☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓
“I heard that former Count Donovan fled in the night to escape his creditors!”
“Let’s stop talking about that man; he’s not even a noble.”
“Right. By the way, I recently hosted a tea party at my mansion.”
“My dog’s birthday is next week.”
“We recently hired a new knight, and his appearance…”
☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓
In late autumn, through thunder, lightning, and torrential rain, a man arrived at the Axid Duchy.
“I have come to pay my respects. I am Count Igorton, who will serve as the vassal of His Grace the Duke of Axid from now on.”
Taylor had returned.
As he had written in the letter he sent to Laila over a year ago, he had earned his title through merit.
“A count, huh…”
Laila, who received Taylor in the warm drawing room instead of the cold outside, sat with her arms crossed.
“Isn’t that too generous?”
“I almost died while searching the borders.”
“Still.”
“Well, I did receive an extraordinary treatment. Thanks to having a good apprentice.”
“Are you admitting that you became a count thanks to Sion?”
“Refusing to acknowledge the obvious truth only makes one look ugly.”
Taylor retorted with a smile.
“It’s not something I’m unwilling to acknowledge. I’m proud of the benefits I received because of Sion.”
“Right, having a good apprentice is a skill too.”
Laila narrowed her eyes and scrutinized Taylor. Taylor tilted his head.
“What’s wrong?”
“Why did you come alone?”
“Huh?”
“Where is Countess Igorton?”
“Ah.”
Taylor’s cheeks turned slightly red as he scratched his neck.
“I’ve decided to propose in the spring.”
“Next spring?”
“Yes. Have you heard the saying? That if you marry in spring, the fairy of spring will bless you, but if you marry in winter, the fairy of winter will bring trials.”
“I’ve never heard that before. Why is the winter fairy so mean?”
“I’m curious about that too.”
“Hmm… but then why didn’t you just get married and come in the spring? Why did you come now?”
“I’m tired of dealing with those talking dogs, so I came early.”
“Talking dogs?…Are you referring to Sir Ridon and Sir Nidson?”
“Yes, both of them have rolled around with me and have become barons now… Wait a moment.”
Taylor’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Madam, your memory…”
“…Yes, it has returned.”
Laila decided to pretend that she had ‘found’ her memory.
Taylor exhaled in relief.
“I’m glad, Madam. Congratulations. It was a temporary side effect.”
A temporary side effect…
It wasn’t entirely incorrect. Laila agreed with Taylor.
Since the day she had wiped Sion’s cold sweat, she hadn’t seen him unwell.
She felt genuinely relieved.
Suddenly, she had the impression of being the protagonist of a story.
The protagonist who had overcome all trials and met a happy ending.
Laila smiled at Taylor.
“Thank you.”
Just before the cold intensified, Laila wrote a letter.
To someone outside the Axid Duchy who had once helped her and knew about her memories.
And the next day.
That person appeared at the Axid Duchy.
“Laila!”
“Cecile!”
Laila hugged Cecile, blinking her eyelids rapidly.
“Did you come because of the letter? I didn’t mean to ask you to come.”
“I know.”
Laila had sent Cecile a letter the previous day, briefly explaining her situation and expressing her gratitude.
Cecile released Laila from the hug and continued with a bright smile.
“I just wanted to come. I’ve been missing you too.”
“…….”
“I was thinking of staying overnight.”
Cecile looked up at Sion, who was standing tall beside Laila.
“Is that alright?”
“It’s not my business, so you don’t need to ask me.”
“No, I’m not asking if I can stay overnight.”
Cecile glanced at Laila and then turned her gaze back to Sion.
“I’m asking if it’s alright if I borrow your beloved wife for a night. I was thinking of sleeping in the same room with Laila.”
“…”
“If you think you’ll be crying all night because you miss your wife, let me know. Out of family affection, I might send Laila back early.”
“……Sister, aren’t you cold? Would you like something to drink? Tea?”
She was teasing Sion, but it seems this side turned red. Cecile smiled slightly while looking at Laila’s ear and answered.
“Wine.”
Cecile drank a lot of wine with Laila in her bedroom.
And late at night, pretending to be drunk, Cecile chased Laila out of the bedroom.
“……I’m in trouble.”
About an hour after pushing Laila out of the bedroom, Cecile groggily got up from the large bed, now empty of its owner.
“I must have been punished…”
Was this the price for teasing the newlyweds, who had just started to connect?
She couldn’t fall asleep.
Her head and body felt heavy, but that was all.
‘Should I sober up a bit?’
It had been a while since she drunk. She thought she hadn’t drunk more than her limit, but maybe she was mistaken.
Cecile reluctantly put on a thick coat and sluggishly left the bedroom.
She walked through the long hallway and headed for the garden. The garden was dark. Cecile deliberately sat down on a flat stone, avoiding the bench.
She leaned back against the stone and gazed out at the dark garden.
Was it the effects of the alcohol?
Memories that hadn’t appeared in her dreams for a long time came back to her.
☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓
“Excuse me, customer.”
“…….”
“Customer!”
Young Cecile, who had been sitting blankly in the carriage, suddenly came to her senses.
“……Yes?”
“This is the market. Are you going to go further?”
Cecile then realized that the carriage she was in had stopped.
She heard the coachman’s voice again.
“If you’re going further than this, you’ll need to pay more.”
“Oh, no. I’ll get off here. Thank you.”
Cecile hurriedly opened the carriage door and got out.
The carriage soon departed, making the sound of hooves and wheels as it left.
Cecile stood on the side of the market street, watching the carriage grow smaller in the distance.
……What should she do now?
Where should she go?
‘Don’t ever come home. Never. Do you understand? You promised.’
She recalled what Sion had said before they parted.
Suddenly, her hands felt cold. The air seemed particularly chilly.
Cecile walked quickly through the quieting market as evening fell.
