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Chapter Four: The Fools’s End
One day, Aides asked Wellmy a question.
“What do you think Arvine’s punishment should be?”
“Why are you asking me? I have no interest in that fool. He couldn’t even see my sister for what she’s truly worth,” she said.
“While I can’t do anything about House Schneiger, I can make his own sentence much more severe, should you wish it.”
“There’s no need. I’m still furious that he went around and spread nasty rumors about Iora, but I used those to my advantage.”
Ӗn u m а.і d
“I see. All right, then. I’ll at least ensure that he never bothers you again.”
With that, the lord of magic left for the nobles’ prison to pay a visit to Arvine.
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※※※
Arvine was exhausted.
Though the prison he was confined to was intended for nobles, it was his first time being forbidden from leaving a room. On top of that, he wasn’t allowed to communicate with anyone until the authorities finished their investigation into his family and decided on his punishment.
Being locked up without any knowledge of what was happening outside proved much tougher than he’d ever anticipated.
W е b̆n о́ v е l̈ E n̆ŭ m ӑ
Why is this happening to me...?
No matter how many times he asked himself that question, he couldn’t find the answer.
Over ten days after his imprisonment, he was told that someone had come to see him and was led to another room.
He was waiting for him there.
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The haughty-looking silver-haired man gestured toward the sofa opposite the one he sat on, silently telling Arvine to take a seat.
The person who had come to visit him was none other than the cruel and callous lord of magic—Marquess Aides Ormirage.
Е̃ ńumа̊.і̂d
“You’re being charged with lèse-majesté,” the man immediately said when Arvine sat, forgoing any pleasantries. “His Majesty has granted me the authority to determine if there were any extenuating circumstances that could mitigate your situation. What I will report to him depends entirely on your attitude during this conversation.”
At this, Arvine’s mood darkened. There’s no way that man will put in a good word for me. He had asked for Wellmy’s hand and saved Iora, after all.
The maximum sentence for lèse-majesté was public execution. The weight of death pressed heavily upon Arvine, and he fought against the shivers that threatened to overtake him.
The corners of Aides’s lips tugged upward when he saw Arvine stiffen. “Are you afraid of me, Arvine Schneiger? You’re a fool, but you at least grasp the situation you’re in. It seems that you’re smart enough to understand who you’re up against.”
Arvine didn’t fully comprehend what Aides meant by that.
“You can never predict what a true fool will do,” the lord of magic continued as Arvine’s gaze remained fixed downward. “If I say that I will put in a good word for them, their first reaction would be to assure me that they’re completely blameless and that their circumstances warrant leniency.”
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What does he mean by that?
Arvine wasn’t sure what to think. It was almost like the lord of magic was suggesting he wasn’t quite that foolish for remaining silent. Or perhaps, he was trying to lower Arvine’s guard to make his tongue slip.
Seeing Arvine take a deep breath in an attempt to brace himself, Aides chuckled, visibly amused. “I see someone’s on edge. What you did was foolish, Arvine. You slighted Iora, the girl you wanted to marry, spread rumors about her, and let Wellmy trick you. To top it all off, you disrespected the crown prince and got yourself thrown in jail. Had none of that ever happened, your situation wouldn’t have been much better: House Ernest, the family you nearly married into, was a house of cards on the brink of financial ruin.”
Arvine felt blood rush to his cheeks and head at this. Was he furious? Ashamed? Even he couldn’t tell. He tightened his grip on his pants, stopping himself from shivering through sheer willpower alone.
“Did some solitude help you cool your head?” Aides asked.
Arvine stared back at him in silence. The lord of magic was looking down on him, an ice-cold smirk playing on his lips, yet his eyes were devoid of emotion. No anger, no contempt, nothing. To him, Arvine deserved no more attention than a pebble on the side of the road.
Ē núm̌а .і́d
“Had you done one thing differently, you could have had Wellmy or Iora. They gave you countless chances over the four years you spent at the academy, but in the end, neither of these brilliant sisters chose you. Do you understand what that means, Arvine Schneiger?”
“Have you come to make fun of me?”
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A throbbing ache resonated within Arvine’s chest as visions of the two sisters flooded his mind. His first meeting with Iora when his mother had taken him to meet her as a child. Their reunion at school. Young Wellmy’s enrollment at the noble academy. Their graduation party when she had snuggled into his arms.
The gorgeous Iora who had appeared on Aides’s arm six months ago.
The fierce Wellmy who had stood her ground resolutely at the mage lord’s party.
Just what was I looking at all this time?
E ǹ u ḿ а. іd̂
Iora had been his fiancée, yet he had almost no memories with her. Wellmy was different. He didn’t just remember fighting with her after she spotted him looking at Iora or that night at Aides’s party. He had countless memories of her everyday self and her strong-willed smile. She had always been by his side.
Always.
Arvine had spent his four years at the academy with Wellmy. Yet...
She chose Aides in the end.
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“Are you here to gloat that you got your hands on Wellmy?” he asked. If that was the case, Arvine thought it was pathetic.
But he soon realized that it was exactly what he had been doing at the noble academy, and he felt a pang of pain in his heart.
Е ňü_m a
“Do you really think I would come all the way here just to gloat? It’s just as I told you earlier—I’m here to ascertain whether or not you deserve leniency. That’s all there is to it,” Aides replied, sounding completely indifferent. “You were in the advanced class with them at first, weren’t you?”
Arvine didn’t understand why he was bringing this up all of a sudden.
“However, from your second year onward, Iora dropped to the regular class so as not to stand out, while you were relegated all the way to the remedial class.”
“What are you getting at?”
Arvine had never had outstanding grades. By the time he was old enough to comprehend things, he had realized that he would never inherit his father’s title, regardless of how much he studied, and could no longer find the motivation to focus on learning.
When he had learned that he could gain peerage by marrying a girl who was set to inherit her father’s title, he’d immediately thought of Iora, House Ernest’s heir, whom he’d met once as a child.
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Right. I...
Arvine had become determined to get his hands on the beautiful Iora. And if he did, he needed to be smart enough to rule a territory.
“I want to marry her,” he had assured his father.
From then, he had begun studying diligently and earned good results.
At least, he thought he had.
“Do you know why you were an idiot at the noble academy?” Aides asked.
En̈ ũ.m̂ а̊ .і̌d̊
Arvine didn’t respond.
“You had countless chances to notice what was happening around you. You had the opportunity to change everything with a single move. I’ve heard that you didn’t bother to hide your disappointment when you saw Iora again for the first time at school. Then, you got carried away when Wellmy started flirting with you. You thought that she liked you. You let it get to your head and even thought you could switch fiancées and still inherit the Ernest estate.”
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Again, Arvine remained silent.
“These two sisters are brilliant flowers. One could even say their wits are irreplaceable. Did you try to match their intellect? Did you even attempt to get to know them?”
Arvine couldn’t say anything in response.
Of course he hadn’t tried to get to know them. If he had, he wouldn’t be here.
Wе̌bn ȯ vél E n û.m а
Aides said that he had had the chance to change everything with a single move. If I had made the effort to stop at least one of them from giving up on me, I...
Arvine knew the truth. But he refused to admit it.
“Women don’t need men to blossom into beautiful flowers. However, any flower will wilt without water.”
If Arvine had noticed that something was wrong with Iora when they had met again...
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If he had offered her a single flower and gone to confront the Ernests...
“You saw a wilted flower and mocked it, without even pausing to consider what she could have looked like in full bloom.”
Е̌ǹ ǔ m a_.і́ d́
Had he taken a proper look at Iora, Wellmy might not have approached him. Being Iora’s fiancé, he could have easily helped her escape her life at the Ernest estate, or at least improved her situation to an extent.
If he had done that, perhaps things would have been different.
Perhaps Wellmy would have approved of him.
“The same can be said about Wellmy. You couldn’t have prevented House Ernest’s collapse, but if you had made an effort to be worthy of her, she might not have dragged you down with her.”
If Arvine had tried to match Wellmy’s intellect, she likely would have still destroyed the Ernests, but perhaps she would have agreed to marry him.
If, if, if.
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These were all suppositions.
Why is this happening to me?
Of course, they would give up on me after what I did...
These two contradictory statements whirled through his mind.
“It seems you understand,” Aides said, pulling Arvine out of his thoughts.
Just like the voices in his head, Aides too seemed to be making fun of him.
Е n u m̊а́ . і̄ ḋ
“You did nothing. You pretended not to see what was happening, didn’t try to achieve anything, and remained complacent. What you lack is effort.”
In other words, if Arvine had truly wanted to win over those girls (who were much too good for him), he should have tried harder.
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Not daring to look Aides in the eye, he gritted his teeth and, in a trembling voice, asked, “Did you make efforts?”
I’m sure you didn’t even need to. You were blessed by nature.
Aides’s beauty was such that it caught the attention of nearly everyone around him. On top of that, he had been born with purple eyes (proof of his strong potential for magic) and was the heir of the kingdom’s strongest marchional house.
He had everything—money, status, power... He had even managed to earn Wellmy’s trust and the support of the royal family.
Е̃ n̄ u m ă. і d
Yet, Aides dismissed Arvine’s snide comment, born out of his own jealousy, with a curt, “Of course I did.”
He went on, “One’s natural potential for magic means nothing if one doesn’t train. Without the proper knowledge, one’s talent will remain dormant. You’re upset that I have so much influence? But don’t you realize that I wouldn’t have such power and status if I didn’t have the skills to match? You dislike my looks? Think of Iora and Wellmy, then. Maybe you’ll understand.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you still believe that all women are beautiful without any effort? You saw Iora blossom in front of your eyes, did you not?”
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At this, Arvine’s breath hitched in his throat.
“A woman will never appear beautiful unless she puts in the effort—unless she truly shines from the inside. Haven’t you learned this lesson? What do you think etiquette and decorum are for? Do you believe all nobles are graceful by nature? Of course not. They only appear that way because they endeavor to do so.” He paused, then added, “Men are the same.”
Ē n ū m̊а . і̌ d
Leaning back in his seat, Aides continued, “Facial features alone don’t make someone beautiful, nor do golden ornaments. Constant and assiduous efforts are what sustain beauty. Why can knights swing a sword? Because they have trained their bodies to do it. Why can scholars answer difficult questions? Because they have acquired that knowledge and honed their minds to put it to good use. This is what makes these people charming, because they have earned their abilities through diligent effort.”
Arvine was at a complete loss for words.
“Money, status, power. Many fools believe that anyone can get their hands on such things by being born an heir, or marrying one, or eliminating whoever stands above them in the hierarchy. And they are right—that does work, in most cases. But when those fools finally reach the top, it’s the weak who inevitably suffer.”
Like Iora, a brilliant girl, but a child who didn’t have the means to fight.
Like Wellmy, who had to wait years to save the one she loved.
“Some people are born bearing the duty to help the weak, to be responsible for them. Have you ever wondered how difficult that is for them? How heavy a burden it is?”
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Arvine saw his older brother’s back in his mind.
Arvine had already found it nearly unbearable to be forced to study to become his brother’s backup in the event that he died. But their father had never been as harsh on him as he was on his brother. Arvine had simply assumed it was because his father had greater expectations for his brother, but that wasn’t it. He had to be stern with him for the sake of their people, those his heir would be responsible for in the future. That way, he could prevent at least some of them from suffering at the hands of fools like Arvine.
“I...”
Aides was right: Arvine had never made any efforts to try to be worthy of Wellmy or Iora. He had simply assumed that once he had gotten his hands on one of them, she would be his forever. But that wasn’t the case; engagement had only been the beginning. He realized that what the two sisters had needed all this time was someone who would support them—and the sisters would help that person in return.
I...
“I only thought of myself...”
Wе bno v̈ еl̈ Еn̈ um̄ а
“Precisely. A true fool would have never realized that. They would have blamed the other party or their environment—anything but themselves. They wouldn’t reflect on their mistakes.” Aides uncrossed his legs and stood up.
Arvine looked up, and his eyes met those periwinkle irises staring down at him.
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He’s so cool...
Everything about him was different from Arvine, from his bearing to the weight of his words. It was no contest. Anyone would pick Aides instead of him, he finally realized.
“You seem to have understood my point. I’ll see to it that you get off with just a fine, Arvine.”
The young lord’s eyes widened.
W.еb̊ n оvе̄ l Еn̄u m а
“Wh-Why...”
“I told you, a true fool wouldn’t reflect on their mistakes. I’m not so cruel as to punish someone for making a mistake once, as long as they don’t repeat it.”
So far, Aides’s eyes had looked cold and expressionless. But now, Arvine felt like they were seeing right to his very core. Aides wasn’t looking at him with contempt or pity; he was simply seeing Arvine for who he truly was.
At that moment, his eyes seemed awfully similar to Wellmy’s vermilion irises.
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“Wellmy doesn’t wish to see you suffer too harsh a punishment,” Aides said, pulling Arvine out of his thoughts. “‘I was using him, so I don’t mind that he used me too,’ she said.”
Arvine’s mouth fell open at that.
Ĕ n u m̄ а̃
“If you truly understand that, for the past four years, you have foolishly trampled all over Wellmy’s and Iora’s school lives, and are willing to prove through your actions that you regret what you did, I shall grant you an opportunity to apologize to them. Until then, you’re forbidden from approaching them.”
Arvine hung his head.
That man is so incredibly cool.
There was no way someone like Arvine could have ever made a good partner for Wellmy. Had his old self, the one from before this conversation, been in her shoes, he would have laughed and dumped himself in no time.
Aides had chosen Wellmy, and his friend the crown prince had chosen Iora. Neither sister had ever been his.
A self-deprecating smile on his lips, Arvine stood up and bowed deeply to Aides as he was about to leave the room.
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“Thank you. I’m honored by your kindness.”
The mage lord looked back over his shoulder and flashed him an amused smile. “Become someone others will choose, Arvine Schneiger.”
Somehow, those words nearly brought tears to Arvine’s eyes.
After that, he was released on bail, yelled at by his father, punched by his brother, and reminded repeatedly to be thankful for his good luck. But unlike before, he felt no anger at these reprimands. All he did was apologize repeatedly to his father and brother.
Sensing that something had changed in him, they asked what he planned to do next.
“Will you please allow me to join the knights?” Arvine asked.
Еń ú m̆_ä. і̌d
Even if he were to marry a noble lady now, he could never administer a territory, nor could he become a civil official. He simply didn’t have the brains for it. However, he could train his body and use his spare time to catch up on the studies he had neglected. That way, perhaps he would become of use to someone.
And perhaps he, too, would be chosen, one day.
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He asked to join the knights of the margrave of the south, infamous for being the strictest regiment. His father and brother gave their approval, and he promptly left the royal capital.
He likely would never see Aides, Wellmy, or Iora again. But if the opportunity came, he hoped that Aides would approve of him, that Wellmy and Iora would realize at a glance that he had changed, and that he could apologize to them with his whole heart.
※※※
Why is this happening to me...?
W e b̃ńӧ v̈еl̈ Е.nùm̈ а̂
Supported on both sides by prison wardens, Savarin, the former Count Ernest, progressed down the dimly lit corridor on shaky legs. He had been stripped of his title and sentenced to the harshest punishment of all—the death penalty.
Savarin had cried out that it was unfair, that he hadn’t even had a trial, but his sentence had been decided so quickly that it was likely the crown had no intention of listening to his defense in the first place.
Why...?
Savarin had been born the second son of House Ernest. As an act of rebellion toward his nagging father and overly serious brother, he had spent the majority of his time fooling around. But his life had reached a turning point almost immediately after their father’s death. His brother, the new Count Ernest, had lost his life during an inspection, and the title had fallen into Savarin’s lap, just like that.
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All of his relatives had opposed him taking over the title, which had annoyed him to no end. That title was his birthright. He was in no way inferior to his petty father and brother.
That was why he had approached his sister-in-law. While he didn’t like the idea of marrying his brother’s hand-me-down, the rest of the family seemed to feel compassion for her.
Еn̊u m â
If you support my claim, I will legitimate your child and pretend it’s mine, he had promised.
Yet despite his generosity, the woman had dared to make him wait for an answer.
She eventually agreed to his proposition, and Savarin officially became the new Count Ernest. A satisfying outcome.
However, his satisfaction hadn’t lasted long.
Despite being his, his new wife had refused to let him have his way with her. Worse, she had claimed that, as she was pregnant with his brother’s child, they wouldn’t need to make another.
Savarin had done her the honor of marrying her because she had a decent face, and she had dared reject him?!
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Frustrated, he made his way into town, where he spotted an attractive woman walking by. He seized her, forced her into his carriage, and took her to his secondary residence, where he assaulted her.
That woman was Isabella.
She had cried and yelled at first, but it hadn’t taken long for her to mellow out. And so, Savarin had let her live at his mansion, making sure to give her plenty of love.
Meanwhile, he foisted all of his duties on his wife. She might have been pretty, but Savarin had no interest in women who wouldn’t let him touch them. He had considered forcing himself on her, but not only would his relatives have gotten on his case if he did, Gordley and that old bat of a wet nurse would have gotten in his way, as they never left her side.
Isabella soon became pregnant as well. Savarin had wished he could have had fun with her a little longer, but oh well. At least that one would be his real child.
When his sister-in-law kicked the bucket, he welcomed his lovely Isabella and their adorable daughter, Wellmy, into his home. Soon after, his relatives all announced they would be severing ties with him and nearly all of the servants resigned. The only two who had remained were Gordley and the wet nurse. The latter eventually retired, allowing Savarin to finally put his plan into place: He’d make Wellmy his successor. The only obstacle had been Iora, who, no matter what he tried, refused to die. It seemed she was more stubborn than her mother.
Ё ṅ ū m а́
It was Isabella’s idea to bully the brat. The temptress had manipulated him. He had done nothing wrong.
Unfortunately, Iora had turned out to be really, really stubborn.
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No matter what he did, he hadn’t been able to break her spirit. His irritation had led him to sink way too much money into gambling. Even his assassination attempt using cursed magic items had failed!
When his finances had hit rock bottom, he received a proposal from House Schneiger, the head of which had only been a viscount at the time. He had offered money in exchange for an engagement between Iora and his second son, Arvine.
What perfect timing.
The money had been all he was after. Iora would die sooner or later anyway, so the engagement would be null.
E n u mӓ. і̊ d
In the meantime, he had his useless, stubborn niece do his duties in his stead, with Gordley’s help. Savarin was the head of the house; why should he have to spend his days sitting at a desk, doing boring work?
As for his dire financial situation, he had just so happened to have a second plan to fix it.
That one was Gordley’s idea.
“If you create a fake account book, you can manipulate your income and retain more funds for yourself,” he had said. In other words, it was Gordley’s fault for tempting him.
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If only his sister-in-law had submitted to him instead of lying.
If only Isabella hadn’t cheated.
E n u m̃ а̀. і ḋ
If only Gordley hadn’t tempted him into committing tax fraud.
It’s all their fault.
So why was he the one being executed?
He didn’t even have the strength to get angry. He walked down the corridor, bitter thoughts churning inside him, until he eventually reached the exit. There, under the blinding sun, stood a gallows. The crowd, who had come to see his execution, cheered when they saw him.
“No,” he tried to say, but the gag in his mouth muffled his words. He tried to twist his body around to resist his punishment, but wardens easily handed him off to the burly soldier who blindfolded him before dragging him to the gallows.
I’ve done nothing wrong... Why is this happening to me?
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In the end, Savarin Ernest never reflected on his mistakes.
He felt the floor fall beneath him, the rope digging painfully into his throat.
Then, his consciousness faded, never to be awakened again.
※※※
Savarin was dead.
Upon learning that fact, Isabella smiled, alone in her cell.
W̊ěb n ȯ v еl Е nǔm̂ ӑ
Everything is over now.
Everything had gone according to her plan.
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At last.
She let out a sigh, and a feeling of lethargy enveloped her, as if her very soul had just left her body.
Isabella had been born a commoner girl and raised in an orphanage. From a young age, she had always assumed that she would live a modest and quiet life.
That is, until I met Clartes.
Е̌ ṅ û m̂ а̃. іd́
At the time, she had started working at the church to help care for the children at the orphanage where she’d been raised. She would spend her days diligently tending to the orphans and nursing the sick back to health in the infirmary. That was when Clartes had begun visiting the orphanage to deliver treatment to the ailing children, and the nun had recommended Isabella as his guide, noting how she always paid attention to each child individually.
He was a gentleman through and through, a kind soul who treated everyone equally and never looked down on those without status.
It hadn’t taken long for Isabella to fall for him, and the attraction had been mutual.
“Will you marry me?” Those words, coupled with the way his vermilion eyes had stared at her, had filled Isabella with joy.
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Yet, she had rejected his feelings—over and over again.
She could never be a duchess, she had thought. She had no parents, no fortune, and no education. All she would do was cause him trouble. She hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that she just wasn’t good enough for him.
Ẅ_ë b n оv ё l̊ Е̊ñ ú m ã
But one day, Clartes told her that he would sever ties with his family and abandon his title; that he wanted to be with her no matter what.
Those words had moved her to tears.
He loves me that much...?
At last, she had accepted his proposal.
She had been happy. She truly had been.
Until that day.
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Some time after agreeing to marry Clartes, when the two of them had moved in together, Isabella had been walking down the street alone. Her fiancé had left earlier that day to discuss the matter of his disinheritance with his family.
That was when it happened.
Lost in her elation, she hadn’t noticed the approaching carriage.
Before she knew it, Savarin had seized her and forced himself on her.
She had hated every second of it. It was the first time she had felt such hatred for someone, the first time she’d ever wanted to kill a person.
But most of all, she had been scared—scared that Clartes would fall out of love with her now that her body had been violated. She hadn’t been able to shake off that fear as she tidied up their home. Could she truly keep what had happened a secret from Clartes and pretend that nothing had happened?
W̃êb̄ṅ о̇ vе l Еn̆ u m̌ а
But the turning point had come when she’d noticed that she hadn’t bled in far too long.
Why...? Why now?
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Isabella hadn’t known. Was the child in her womb Clartes’s? Or was it that heinous Savarin’s? What if she kept living with the man she loved and gave birth to that child, only to realize that it wasn’t his?
And so, she left their home.
On the day Clartes had gone to sign the last documents officially severing his ties to the Lirouds, Isabella had grabbed every last bit of her money and left, making it look as if she had run away.
She had gone to Savarin’s and agreed to become his mistress.
Wе̊ bn о v е̌ l_ Е̃n ǔ ma
The child she gave birth to nine months later had vermilion eyes. The realization had brought with it both relief and despair.
She had claimed that the baby had inherited her eye color from one of Isabella’s ancestors, who had some noble blood, and that fool Savarin had believed her.
Wellmy was Clartes’s child. Isabella had to do everything she could to make her happy.
When Savarin’s wife passed away, and he offered to marry her, she made up her mind.
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I will put an end to that monster’s bloodline.
If Iora disappeared and Wellmy became the next Countess Ernest, his lineage would effectively be severed.
Wӗ b ň о v̈ ӗ l È.n ū m а̀
And so, she hardened her resolve: Once Wellmy took over Savarin’s title, and Isabella witnessed her happiness with her own eyes...she would kill her husband, her stepdaughter, and herself.
This determination was what had kept her alive all this time.
In the end, Iora didn’t deserve anything I did to her.
On the night of the lord of magic’s engagement party, she had learned that Iora was the daughter of the previous Count Ernest, not Savarin. Had she known, she wouldn’t have tormented her so aggressively, especially seeing how attached Wellmy had grown to her.
Still, she didn’t regret what she’d done. She didn’t have the right to. Wellmy—Clartes’s child—was the only one who mattered.
The current situation was perfectly acceptable.
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From what she’d heard, her beloved daughter had fallen in love at first sight with the lord of magic. Isabella was glad for her, as she’d always thought that Wellmy didn’t seem to like Arvine, the boy she’d stolen from Iora, all that much. In fact, she was the one who had told Wellmy about the lord of magic’s achievements and noble attitude—information she’d learned from being the wife of a count.
She’d always known that Wellmy had been planning something, but she’d had no idea that the climax of her plan would be even more satisfying than her own revenge plot.
When Isabella had seen Savarin’s dumbfounded expression that night, once he’d realized that he had lost everything, she’d had to suppress the urge to laugh and reveal her own scheme.
Wellmy was a clever girl. She had clearly inherited Clartes’s wit, not Isabella’s stupidity.
If Isabella had one regret, it was seeing her former fiancé again that night. He had looked at her with such sad eyes, with such suffering. He knew that she hadn’t simply run away from their union.
But...
È numа̀. і d̂
She was fine with him thinking that she was a hopeless case. In fact, it was exactly what she had wanted him to think when she’d run away from their shared home. His gentle heart didn’t need to break for someone like her.
That was why she had chosen to keep all of her secrets to herself. She didn’t need to tell anyone about what had happened on that day Savarin had seized her.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
From now on, Wellmy would live happily with her beloved Iora and Clartes by her side. She didn’t need her fool of a mother in her life anymore.
So when Isabella received news that she would be sent to a convent in the north, she simply nodded and accepted her fate. She would have been fine being executed alongside Savarin, but for some reason, she was spared the gallows.
When she was let out of her cell to climb into the carriage that would take her north, Gordley, the Ernest family butler, was waiting for her. He seemed to be the only one who had come to see her off.
She had mixed feelings toward him; on the one hand, she hated how he had stood in the way of her plan by always helping Iora, but on the other, she was glad he had helped Wellmy to undermine Savarin. Even now, she didn’t know what his motivations had been.
W е̃ b̌n̆ о̊ vе̊l̂ Ӗ ń u ṁ ä
“Thank you for coming to see me off,” she said, offering him a smile.
“You do not need to thank me, madam. I have come bearing a message from Lord Ormirage.”
“What might that be?” she asked, stopping in her tracks. The warden kindly paused to give her some time to finish her conversation.
Her eyes widened at the words that came out of Gordley’s mouth.
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“He said, ‘I won’t tell Wellmy or Clartes.’”
How?
Ӗ n̄ů m̌ a . і̆ d̄
When did he notice? And how?
She thought about it, but she couldn’t come up with an answer. Yet, she could tell that the lord of magic was doing her a kindness.
Restraining the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes now that she had recovered from the shock, she took a step forward.
“Will you thank him for me?”
“Understood, madam.”
The lord of magic had understood what she had done, and he’d also sensed that the truth would only bring regrets to Wellmy and Clartes. Just how perceptive was that man? And what did Gordley think of this exchange? She didn’t know.
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Please take care of Wellmy for me, she hoped inwardly as she climbed into the carriage.
※※※
“Is everything over?” Aides asked the Ernest family’s elderly butler, who had come to visit him in his study.
“Indeed. I thank you for your kindness,” Gordley replied with a bow.
Aides set his pen down on his desk, a smile tugging at his lips. “When Wellmy and Clartes realize the truth, if they ask you about it, you may tell them.”
“I pray that this day never comes. The madam doesn’t wish for it.”
Е ňu mӑ . іď
Aides nodded in agreement. “By the way, Gordley. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“What might that be, my lord?”
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“What is your last name?”
Gordley paused before replying, “It used to be Schneiger. Now, I have none.”
As I thought, Aides nodded inwardly.
He’d always wondered why the Schneigers had helped the Ernests when they had found themselves on the brink of financial ruin, knowing that it would only invite unwanted suspicions. Furthermore, how had the viscount of a small house worked from the shadows until suddenly rising to the rank of count a dozen years ago? Aides had discovered these two odd details when he had looked into House Schneiger.
W̄е̇ bǹо v̇ е l̇ Ѐ n.um̄ã
“Did House Schneiger always have a relationship with House Ernest?” he asked.
“Originally, our duty was to support them. For generations, the butlers and wet nurses in the service of House Ernest were selected from among the most capable members of House Schneiger. They would then abandon their last name, while the second most brilliant member of the family would inherit the title of Viscount Schneiger.”
“So you approved of Arvine’s change of fiancée because you’ve cast away your ties to your former family. Is that right?”
“Not quite. To be perfectly honest with you, it is because I have deemed Lady Iora, the only legitimate successor of the Ernest family, to be too exceptional.”
Baca cerita ini hanya di situs resmi Enuma.id!
Aides chuckled. “She’s too good to be a mere countess, you mean? Well, I can’t say I disagree.”
Instead of rebuilding House Ernest from the ground up, Iora would become crown princess, then queen, putting her talents in the service of the entire kingdom. This likely had been the collective will of the members of House Schneiger, the Ernests’ retainers.
Е̂n̈.u mǎ .і̂ d
“Had Lord Savarin been competent, or had Lady Iora not been his successor, I wouldn’t have gone along with Lady Wellmy’s plan,” Gordley confessed.
House Schneiger likely wasn’t loyal to the Ernest name, but to their bloodline, hence Gordley’s decision to destroy their house.
Seeing Iora’s potential, they had decided to stop producing talented servants and focus on rising in the ranks to be able to help her from the outside, should she ever need assistance. And the person who had come up with that idea, who had convinced the current head of House Schneiger to put that plan into motion was...
“You truly are the picture of loyalty, Gordley.”
“Thank you, Lord Aides. You are much too kind,” the butler replied. All these years, he had concealed his tremendous talent behind that meek smile, ensuring he remained as inconspicuous as possible.
“Gordley, do you mind me suggesting to His Majesty to give control of the Ernest county to House Schneiger?”
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“That is not my place to comment. Please do as you wish.”
“What about you, then? Do you need me to put in a good word for you with the royal family so you can serve Iora?” That wouldn’t have been too difficult. Aides could make Gordley Leo’s aide in governmental affairs, for instance. The old butler could handle those duties with ease.
However, Gordley shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but I would like to take a little sabbatical for the time being. I have heard that you made my talented nephew realize the error of his ways...”
He wants to offer Arvine his guidance. Is that what he’s trying to say?
Aides nodded. “I shall write to the margrave of the south, then. I don’t know what position he’ll give you, but... Would you be fine with being Arvine’s tutor? If he’s interested in studying outside of his training hours, I don’t mind paying you to instruct him.”
“This is more than I could have asked for,” Gordley replied, bowing deeply, polite as always.
Ёn̂ û m a
Aides’s lips curled into a smirk. “Considering your age, you could simply retire. You truly are an eccentric, scheming man.”
“I am finally free from this ordeal and can at last indulge in more enjoyable pursuits. That is one of the perks of old age,” the elderly butler replied with a smile of his own.
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At that, Aides laughed out loud, something he rarely did.
