Chapter 30
When I left the Estarion estate, I didn’t take a single coin with me.
It wasn’t mine to take. Greed for things that weren’t rightfully mine might have led to future consequences I couldn’t predict.
But that doesn’t mean I left with nothing.
I had no cash on hand, true—but I wasn’t without assets.
“I didn’t expect the research to be completed so quickly.”
My first investment had begun with just five gold coins gifted to me on my sixteenth birthday.
Back then, I’d predicted a trade war was on the horizon and invested all five gold into a merchant vessel. The gamble paid off. The following year, that five gold turned into one hundred and fifty.
I returned the original five to Count Estarion as a gift and used the dividends to establish a small research lab in the South.
It wasn’t large or grand—but it had enormous future value.
Even after founding the lab, I continued to invest periodically, using the profits to cover research expenses and pay the researchers.
And now, three years later, the research had finally borne fruit.
“Sophie, this is the medicine I’ve been taking. It helps with recovery.”
“I remember. But… why are you packing it? Don’t tell me—you’re going to give it to Mrs. Shivan?”
“It could help her a lot.”
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a restorative—more like a pain reliever.
The drug I had helped develop was both an analgesic and an anesthetic.
I’d always been physically fragile, and later, frequent migraines had led me to focus on pain relief.
“I can’t afford to keep buying pain potions forever.”
Pain potions were expensive, poorly distributed, and only available through the temple—effectively out of reach for the poor.
But the liquid analgesic Herace sent from the lab was different.
It could be made easily, so long as one had the necessary herbs. Distributed through merchants, it could reach those who truly needed it.
Knock. Knock.
Sophie, usually so composed, knocked rather aggressively at the door.
“Who is it?”
Fred opened it, frowning when he saw me.
“I told you last time—I’m not interested.”
“I brought something for your wife. A new type of medicine.”
“We’ve tried everything already.”
“This one hasn’t been available before. I promise, it could really help her.”
He didn’t trust me—his eyes said as much—but he also recognized that I wasn’t going to back down.
With a heavy sigh, he stepped aside.
I seized the chance and entered.
Mrs. Shivan was collapsed on the couch, her face deathly pale, her frailty evident.
“Good day, ma’am. I came hoping I could help.”
“If you’re trying to pass off some foreign digestive pill as a miracle cure, save it and leave.”
Her voice was barely a whisper.
“In that case, you can try it yourself and see whether it works.”
I held the bottle out to her.
Her confused eyes flicked between the medicine and Fred.
It was clear she didn’t understand what was happening.
“And I’m supposed to trust something from a stranger?”
“I came here as a representative of House Calypso. I’m not lying. Please believe me.”
She didn’t respond, but her silence was telling.
The fact I represented Sir Aiden—formerly a slave-turned-noble—seemed to diminish her trust.
She winced again. A headache, no doubt.
“This will help with your migraines. Please, try it.”
“A pain potion?”
“Something like that.”
“Liar. That’s not a potion, and even if it was—why would the Duke of Calypso gift something so precious to me?”
“You’re suspicious. Fine. I’ll give it not as a noble, but as someone who sympathizes. I suffer from migraines too. You’re not a stranger to me. This is your last chance—I won’t offer a third time.”
When she hesitated, Fred stepped forward.
“My dear, maybe you should lie down…”
“No. I’ll drink it. These headaches are unbearable. If it could make them stop, I’d sell my soul to the devil.”
She snatched the bottle from my hand and opened it without hesitation.
Gulp. Gulp.
“Only drink half.”
Following my instructions, she stopped halfway and lowered the bottle.
“It’ll take about ten minutes for the effects to kick in. Fred—if she’s better by then, may we talk?”
I smiled. Even without a mirror, I knew what my expression looked like.
Confident. Absolutely confident.
“I can provide the medicine regularly—if Mr. Shivan agrees to become House Calypso’s butler.”
“Sophie’s words made my cheeks flush.
No one was happier about the household finally getting organized than she was.
Excitement sparkled in her eyes—she couldn’t hide it.
“But what exactly is that medicine? It doesn’t seem like an ordinary restorative.”
I told her the truth.
She scolded me for not mentioning my headaches sooner—but she was sincerely glad the medicine worked.
When we returned to the mansion, something felt… off.
“What happened?”
“It’s Marie…”
Even without her finishing the sentence, I knew.
Marie had passed on.
We hadn’t been close, but death always weighed heavy on the chest.
Sophie teared up and turned to Eva.
“It hasn’t even been a month.”
“She didn’t have the strength to hold out any longer. Sophie… what about Will?”
“Becky’s looking after him.”
“Teacher.”
Sir Aiden appeared behind Eva, his face stony.
His voice held a quiet frustration.
“You keep disappearing, teacher. It makes people worry.”
“I had something to do… and now I hear Marie is gone.”
“She is. Tomorrow, we’ll say a few prayers and bury her in the village cemetery.”
“I see…”
A heavy shadow passed over Aiden’s face as he walked inside.
“That little brat, he should’ve cried. But he’s just holding it in. And it pisses me off.”
“…”
“He asked if his grandma was in heaven. Makes me wonder what’s going on inside that tiny head of his.”
His steps down the corridor were fast and loud.
He looked more unsteady than I’d ever seen him.
Frustration laced his voice. Conflicting emotions filled his eyes.
“I don’t know why this is bothering me so much… Maybe it’s because he reminds me of myself.”
“Yourself…?”
“Back in those damned slave days. I probably had the same dead eyes.”
“Oh…”
“What should I do, teacher? You’re the smart one. Should I make him cry? Or scold him?”
His voice cracked with raw emotion.
It was rough, but beneath it lay a genuine warmth.
Without thinking, I reached out and gently patted his back.
I could feel his sorrow in every word.
“…Just stay by his side.”
“That’s it? Will that really help?”
When I was a child, without memories and a stranger to House Estarion, I often wished someone would simply stay close.
There were times I’d sit silently in my uncle’s room, just to feel less alone.
“What did you need most back then, Sir Aiden?”
“Obviously, I needed—”
He trailed off, caught himself, and then sighed deeply, wiping his face.
“Right. That’s good enough. Thanks, teacher.”
I wondered—if someone had tried to comfort me like this back then, would things have turned out differently?
“No use thinking about it now.”
It was already long past.
“What will you do about Will?”
“If I knew a trustworthy facility, I’d send him there—but most of them dabble in trafficking. So I’ll keep him around and have him help with chores.”
Sigh.
He let out a deep breath and added:
“He’s too young for real work, so I’ll just feed and shelter him. Let’s call it sponsorship. Nobles like to say that, don’t they?”
“Marie would’ve appreciated that.”
“I never spoke to her much, but I feel responsible for the kid. It’s not like I can’t afford it. Anyway—I’ve got to pay for the cemetery plot.”
“Take care.”
After Aiden left, Eva returned.
“Becky’s with Will.”
She looked flushed, probably from chasing after him. Her sleeves were pushed up.
And between those sleeves—I saw something.
I grabbed her wrist.
Pulled the fabric up higher.
“…What is this?”
Bruises covered Eva’s arm.
They weren’t the kind from a fall. They were layered—old and new—clear signs of repeated abuse.
“Who did this? Who hit you?”
“It’s nothing.”
Eva quickly yanked her arm away and covered it.
“Tell me. Was the money I gave you not enough? Is that why they hit you?”
“I—”
Her silence said everything.
I thought of the blows I’d endured during the Inquisition—fury boiled in my chest.
“It’s not my problem. I don’t need to get involved.”
I had more than enough to worry about already.
So I walked away.
I don’t know how long I can keep pretending not to see.
But today—I didn’t want another headache.
