The Countess, who had been lost in thought a while longer, finally sprang up from her seat and went to find the Count.
“I have a good plan.”
The Count, who had been seething with anger over the matter in his study, beckoned to his wife with an irritable face.
“Out with it.”
“Bringing down the Duke of Richmond within Richmond Castle is no easy task.”
“So?”
“No matter how much I think about it, there is only one good pretext for bringing down a Duke within his own castle.”
“What is it?”
“Treason.”
In an instant, the Count’s gaze turned annoyed.
“Treason?”
“To tie the Duke together with ‘The Unseen Ones,’ whom Her Majesty the Empress has publicly branded as traitors.”
“The previous Duke and Duchess were killed by ‘The Unseen Ones,’ and now you want to pin that crime on their son? Have you lost your mind?”
“How hasty. Who said we would pin it on the Duke?”
“Then? Ah... surely not?”
When the Count’s eyes widened as if realizing something, the Countess lowered her voice.
“Exactly. That woman the Duke brought with him.”
The Count quickly straightened his posture and nodded as if telling her to continue.
“If that woman is revealed to be one of ‘The Unseen Ones,’ you can put the Duke’s judgment on the chopping block. How could a man who gave the Duchess’s chambers to the enemy who killed his own parents possibly govern Richmond?”
“But we don’t know that woman’s identity for certain?”
“When I went to see the Duke earlier, I probed around, but he would not tell me her family name. Why do you think that was?”
“Someone who finds it difficult to speak of her family name?”
“In the Dekan Empire, where do people who find it difficult to speak of their family names gather? Nothing other than the village of fugitives near the Wall of Death, is there?”
The Count slowly stroked his chin.
“Hmm. So that is where the Duke met the woman... If it is there... Yes, it does fit. But what if, by any chance, she clearly proves her identity?”
“We must put in a safeguard so that she cannot.”
“How?”
The Countess leaned toward him.
“First, send a falcon to Her Majesty the Empress. We must drop a hint that ‘The Unseen Ones’ will briefly appear in Richmond and then vanish. And secure the person I tell you about in advance.”
“Yes, I understand. But how do we pin it on that woman? It must be done well.”
“The inner keep of House Richmond is in the palm of my hand.”
The Countess’s eyes shone cruelly.
“Two maidservants will be sufficient. I have already picked out just the right pair.”
＊ ＊ ＊
Meanwhile, Grace was reading through the documents Eric had brought.
“Are you satisfied?”
Grace, who had been double-checking the profit margins, looked up at him incredulously.
“Eric. You should not be asking if I am satisfied—you should be demanding a reward for yielding this kind of profit margin.”
“If I ask for a reward, will you give me anything?”
“Of course. You made this.”
“It was done by your order, my lady.”
Grace let out a short laugh and turned her eyes back to the documents.
Blind money belongs to whoever spends it first.
Countless nobles in the capital, including the Empress, treated the money of House Taylor as blind money. It was only natural. The current Duke of Taylor regarded his family’s wealth as blind money. He cherished the Taylor signet ring as if it were his life, yet acted as though the family fortune was something to be spent as quickly and as abundantly as possible—even a day sooner, even a single coin more.
As though he might be driven out at any moment.
‘Grace! Stamp all these documents and send them.’
‘I should review them first...’
‘I ordered these matters! How dare you say you will review them?! Is this how little you think of me?!’
‘......’
‘Stop yapping and stamp them!! Do you understand?!’
The trust, honor, and wealth built up like strata by generations of Dukes of Taylor shook and twisted as if struck by an earthquake.
She could not simply stagger and die from a sudden catastrophe. Grace decided to turn House Taylor’s blind money to her own advantage.
One such way was siphoning off the money herself. The current Duke of Taylor did not know what the documents looked like, anyway. He had no interest in them.
Grace had entrusted a portion of the embezzled family funds to Eric, and Eric had grown a merchant company with that money.
Grace handed the documents back and said.
“Good work. Half of this net profit is yours, so take good care of it.”
At those words, Eric’s pupils deepened.
When the vassals of House Taylor were meeting mysterious deaths, Eric’s father, the former Viscount Naypier, had also died. As he wandered, having lost his father unexpectedly, a young lady appeared before him. And like a master, she commanded:
‘Stop crying and stand up. Take revenge on the enemy who killed your father and mine, and then you can cry.’
Grace had ordered him to build a merchant company and multiply the money.
They could not meet often. This time, too, it had been nearly a year since their last meeting.
His young mistress grew every time he saw her. Her jawline had become slender, her gaze deeper. Just as depth accumulated in her eyes, so too did his heart grow deeper.
Grace gave him a reward each time he turned a profit, but to him, that was not the true reward.
“Eric?”
When he did not answer, Grace widened her eyes and tilted her head.
Eric smiled as splendidly as he could. His long eyes curved, and a glimpse of white teeth peeked between the sharply upturned corners of his lips. It was the smile that the noblewomen who traded with him were desperate to see just once.
Usually, when he smiled like this, most noblewomen would blush or lose themselves. But the expression of the master who actually owned him was tranquil to the point of heartlessness.
“Is it not enough?”
Eric asked, feeling his heart grow cold.
“Why do you keep insisting on giving me a fixed percentage of the money?”
“It is only natural to divide money obtained through my capital and your effort.”
“I am yours, my lady.”
Therefore, even my efforts are yours.
Unconditional trust. At times, he imagined that all those who secretly guarded Grace’s side would disappear. He wanted to become Grace’s everything, even if it meant that only he himself remained.
“I trust you. I simply wish to show appreciation for your efforts.”
The monstrous imagination scattered like dust. A heat haze-like warmth spread over his heart, which had grown cold, when suddenly Jessie’s voice was heard.
“I think you must go!”
Grace nodded slightly as if telling him to hurry along, and after organizing the documents, Eric confessed the fact he had not yet reported.
“The Countess’s maid came requesting information about your background, my lady.”
The moment she heard those words, Grace felt a sharp electric current running up her spine.
“She suspected you of being a commoner without a family name. I replied that it takes three months to learn one’s background, and let slip that you might perhaps be from a fugitive village near the Wall of Death.”
A smile formed at Grace’s lips.
“Well done. You worked hard.”
“If any other news comes, I will report it immediately.”
Eric’s red eyes curved long like the moon. As he turned to leave, he paused for a moment and voiced the question that had been lingering in his mouth.
“With the Duke of Richmond, it ends once you reclaim Taylor, does it not?”
“Of course.”
The indifferent, light reply came back immediately. At that, Eric hesitated no further and left the room. Contrary to Walter’s thoughts, it was not that he had failed to recognize Walter. When Grace entered the castle in Walter’s embrace, Eric had witnessed that scene.
“Go safely. Let us meet again soon.”
“Yes. Serve her well.”
“You are worrying about needless things.”
After exchanging brief greetings with Jessie, he refused Joseph’s offer to guide him and disappeared with a speed and lightness that left Joseph marveling.
Joseph shrugged his broad shoulders and muttered.
“What kind of training did you people receive, anyway?”
Jessie looked down the corridor where footsteps were approaching and answered perfunctorily.
“Hunter training.”
“Hunters?”
Jessie smirked.
“Lying quietly in wait, and then—snap—biting down.”
“......”
As Joseph made a sullen expression, two maids appeared in the corridor. They were the very same maids who had guided Grace to the Chandelier Room.
On the tray they wheeled in was a domed dish. The smell of food wafting from it suggested they were bringing dinner.
Jessie’s eyes flashed like a hunter who had spotted her prey.