SOWD Chapter 82

Chapter 82

“Finally, Butler Idel.”

The words that had been flowing seamlessly paused briefly.

Everyone present understood why.

It was impossible to summarize what Idel had done in just a single phrase.

Not only had she renovated the entire mansion, but she had also screened and replaced the servants. She had taught everyone, including the siblings of the house’s master.

From start to finish, there wasn’t a single part of this party that hadn’t been touched by Idel’s hand. How could one possibly put that into words?

Laszlo simply gazed at Idel for a moment before parting his lips.

“I owe you a great debt.”

At that, Idel shook her head firmly.

“I, too, have received great grace from you, Count. If I’ve been of even a little help, that alone is my joy.”

Laszlo thought of saying more but decided against it.

It would be absurd to start debating who owed whom more in front of the gathered servants.

“That person seems to break out in hives if they hear words of gratitude. In any case, thanks to all of you, I got to play the part of a proper noble today.”

The servants thought it was a joke and burst into laughter again. Laszlo let the atmosphere remain light-hearted, but the gratitude he felt toward Idel and the rest of the staff was genuine.

If he had hosted the kind of party he originally envisioned when the idea was proposed, he might have been ostracized from high society. That would have been akin to merely setting some food on the table and inviting people to eat.

‘Even if it weren’t for that bastard Edmund, no one would have expected our family to pull off such a splendid party.’

Of course, Idel deserved the most credit for this party. However, the servants who faithfully followed her instructions without complaint were remarkable as well.

Suddenly, Laszlo found himself appreciating the lively, laughter-filled atmosphere around the dining table.

‘This place… is my home.’

To have “a place to belong”—it was a strange feeling. It wasn’t exactly a sense of responsibility or duty but rather the comfort of having somewhere to lean on.

‘I should protect this place, not rely on it. What am I thinking?’

He had spent his life protecting things, yet he didn’t realize that his weary heart was already being healed here.

As he listened to the servants’ jokes and laughter, occasionally chuckling and nodding along, he took another sip of wine.

It was a feeling as complex and warm as a slow-cooked stew.

---

The morning after the party, Laszlo woke up later than usual. Lying in bed, he stared at the ceiling before suddenly sitting up.

“This is really bothering me.”

The party had been a success, and he was in a good mood, but one thing continued to nag at him.

“What on earth did Idel talk about with that guy?”

The image of Idel conversing with Edmund for quite some time kept surfacing in his mind. It was irritating.

Rather than letting it continue to bother him, he thought it might be better to ask her directly.

‘Though it might lead to another headache.’

He splashed cold water on his face in the bathroom, dried off, and threw on some clothes. He thought of ringing the bell to summon someone as usual but remembered that he had told everyone to rest last night. So, he decided to head out himself.

As he walked toward Idel’s room, he wondered briefly if she might still be asleep, but then he chuckled.

‘By now, she’s probably already finished half her day’s work. She’s not someone who can sleep in.’

And his guess was spot on.

Idel seemed slightly surprised to see him but greeted him with her usual composed demeanor.

“Directly, sir? What brings you here?”

“I felt bad calling someone after telling everyone to rest.”

At his words, Idel smiled softly and gestured for him to sit.

“You’re a truly good person, Count.”

“Me? I’m sure the staff must think I’m indifferent and shameless.”

“Not at all. They all like you and Miss Rinia very much. Of course, I always make sure they know not to overstep boundaries.”

Her words were perfectly proper for a housekeeper, but Laszlo couldn’t help feeling a pang of regret.

It felt as if she had drawn a subtle line between them.

‘Well, that’s natural, isn’t it? Still….’

Clicking his tongue in faint disappointment, he took a sip of the tea Idel had served to calm his swirling thoughts. He had more pressing matters to focus on than “emotional barriers.”

“Sorry to bother you while you should be resting. But something’s been on my mind.”

“Regarding me?”

“Yes.”

Idel widened her eyes in genuine surprise, prompting Laszlo to wave his hand lightly.

 

“Oh, it’s nothing serious, so don’t be startled. It’s just….”

Just as Laszlo was about to casually ask, as he had rehearsed in his head many times, “Were you acquainted with Sir Milton? I saw you two talking,” a sudden thought struck him—what if Idel and Edmund had been having a deeply personal conversation?

Until now, he had only assumed that Edmund had approached Idel with some ulterior motive. That certainty had given him the confidence to come here. But on second thought, it was possible that they had known each other for some time.

If that were the case, interrogating her about their private conversation would be incredibly rude, especially by Idel’s standards as someone raised in nobility.

“…Count?”

Idel looked at Laszlo curiously as he abruptly fell silent.

Swallowing hard, he licked his dry lips before sighing deeply and shaking his head.

“No. On second thought, it’s not something I should be asking about. Sorry for disturbing your rest.”

He finished the rest of his tea and rose to leave.

But then Idel gently tugged at his sleeve.

“Actually… I was planning to come see you as well, Count.”

“Me?”

“Yes. There’s something I need to tell you.”

Laszlo, his expression growing serious, sat back down.

As she poured more tea into his empty cup, Idel carefully chose her words before speaking.

“Yesterday at the party, someone approached me to speak. It was Sir Edmund Milton—you know of him, don’t you, Count?”

Hearing her bring up the very topic he had been curious about, Laszlo’s heart raced.

“…I know him. That bastard—no, that person—yes, him. What about him?”

Laszlo barely held back a curse, forcing a strained smile. Though he sipped his tea, his nervousness was evident.

“I’d never exchanged words with him before, but he approached me out of the blue yesterday.”

“What did he say?”

The phrase “I’d never even greeted him before” gave Laszlo a strange sense of relief, though anger simmered beneath the surface.

However, Idel, lost in recalling her interaction with Edmund, didn’t notice Laszlo’s agitation.

“Well… it seemed as though he was trying to…”

“Trying to what? Confess that he likes you or something?”

“What? Oh, no. Based on his words, I suppose one could misunderstand it that way, but I got an entirely different impression.”

“What impression?”

Idel recalled Edmund’s overly deliberate friendliness.

Having grown up under a harsh father and developed a keen sense for reading people, she was adept at detecting suspicious intentions.

Edmund was no exception. He may have thought little of Idel, but he hadn’t managed to completely hide his true colors.

“It seemed like he was trying to use me to uncover some kind of weakness about you, Count.”

“What? What exactly did he say?”

Idel recounted the conversation as best as she could remember, including Edmund’s seemingly sympathetic tone, his veiled criticism of Laszlo, his suggestive demeanor, and his covert proposal to meet outside the mansion in exchange for “help.”

With every detail, Laszlo’s anger seemed to grow, and Idel found it entirely understandable.

‘It’s only natural to be furious. The captain of the guards tried to exploit his superior’s weakness.’

But Laszlo’s anger was slightly misplaced.

“So that bastard actually laid a hand on you?”

“What? Oh, you mean when he touched my shoulder?”

“Is it normal for nobles to casually touch women they’re not close to?”

“Of course not. This is just my assumption, but I think he believed that physical contact would help him… better seduce me.”

“What kind of lunatic thinks like that?!”

Laszlo erupted, spewing a string of vulgar curses under his breath.

Idel considered pointing out his language but decided against it, fearing it might provoke him further. Instead, she quickly shifted the topic.

“Sir Milton is now the captain of the guards, isn’t he? Why would he try to uncover a weakness of yours, Count? Do you have any suspicions?”

“There’s too much to suspect—that’s the problem. That man has always been desperate to bring me down.”

“Bring you down?”

Laszlo ground his teeth.

The black, cloying jealousy and hostility Edmund harbored for him were things only Laszlo himself truly understood.

Every move Edmund had made to undermine him had been cloaked in plausible excuses. To outsiders, Laszlo’s suspicions might even seem like baseless paranoia.

That’s why he hadn’t spoken of it to anyone.

Would Idel truly understand?