Chapter 49
“…Yeah. What did I expect? Count Stung’s wife is a relative in name only. She’s not blood at all—completely unrelated to our family.”
I hadn’t really expected anything from the start. Still, I couldn’t shake off the thought that things would have been different if my uncle had come in person.
“That’s right, Aunt. So, may I ask Sir Letty to attend in your place? As you know, I’m still a minor and can’t handle it alone. I came to ask for the family’s permission.”
Only then did Countess Stung seem to notice Sir Letty.
“Bringing someone into my room without permission—what were you thinking?”
She spoke, turning her slightly flushed face to the side.
“But I said Sir Letty would come in with me.”
Roil replied a little sullenly.
“Well, anyway, that’s very good, isn’t it, Sir Letty? Today at the funeral, your skill was quite impressive. I was very taken.”
Roil frowned at the Countess’s words. Skill? What an insult. Being the second-best spirit caster in the empire and treated like a circus performer—at someone else’s funeral, no less.
He couldn’t bring himself to lift his burning face, staring instead at his own toes.
“You flatter me too much.”
Sir Letty replied without a change in expression. The Countess continued chattering on, ignoring his mechanical response.
“Beautiful and talented too. If our family ever needs a spirit caster, I hope Sir Letty will come. Now, what were we talking about? Ah, yes. I allow Sir Letty to attend in my stead.”
She pretended to generously give permission for something she didn’t want to do herself. It was about to become one of those situations where Sir Letty should say thanks—but Roil stepped in first.
“Thank you, Aunt. I’ll take my leave now; I have work to attend to. Please rest comfortably.”
Roil gestured toward the door as if escorting Sir Letty out. Sir Letty simply nodded at the Countess and left without a word.
“My apologies, Sir Letty.”
As soon as the door closed, Roil apologized. What a rude act, helping someone so much and still causing trouble. In fact, it might have been better if Countess Stung hadn’t come at all.
“Roillette, there’s no need for you to apologize. Shall we go down to the basement now?”
Sir Letty stepped out of the room with a neutral expression, unaffected by Roil’s apology. She had no intention of complaining about the Countess’s rudeness, especially to someone already looking apologetic.
✿ ✿ ✿
At the same time that Roil and Sir Letty briefly stopped by Countess Stung’s room before heading to the basement prison, Ellen was wrestling with documents in Roil’s study.
“Oh my, there’s no end to this. Mom and Aunt must have worked so hard all this time.”
When helping Gloriana and Diana bit by bit, she hadn’t realized the true amount of work. Now that she was doing it in earnest, the workload was beyond imagination.
Being a count, Ellen realized, was basically an office job—one with a mountain of tasks.
‘Can I really handle being a count?’
For the first time, she felt a little insecure.
Ellen flopped onto the office sofa and closed her eyes.
I wonder what my friends are doing. Probably gathered in someone’s room, chatting.
They probably weren’t having a noisy party in this situation, but maybe quietly talking together.
‘Maybe it’s better to work until dinner and then spend time with them afterward. Roy will come up for dinner anyway.’
As Ellen pondered, she remembered that Roil was in the basement prison.
‘Will they… do something like torture?’
Torture. Ellen knew nothing about it. The only exposure she’d had was in movies back in Korea.
She grimaced, recalling horrific scenes from films and dramas.
‘No… he grew up here, but Roy is from the same modern world as me. Surely he wouldn’t…’
Ellen exhaled heavily through her nose.
‘Or would he? The person who killed someone called mother—would he want to punish them with torture?’
She imagined it briefly: Gloriana killed, and the suspected culprit in front of them. She had to admit she had underestimated the situation.
‘The problem isn’t torture. They must get the culprit to confess and punish them, no matter what.’
On Earth, torture was legally prohibited, but not here. Nobles had both the right and power.
Human rights, human dignity—she knew it all in theory, but could anyone remain calm in front of their parent’s killer?
Ellen got up.
‘Even if there’s torture, with Roil’s personality, he wouldn’t eat dinner afterward.’
No matter how angry, Roil couldn’t calmly eat while seeing someone battered. Knowing that, Ellen decided to intervene.
‘But what should I say? “Eat first, then handle it”?’
She scratched the back of her head, realizing the idea sounded odd even to her.
Ellen had asked Emma about the basement’s location. Emma, who had long assisted Diana and Roil, knew the way.
“Just go straight this way. I can’t go beyond here.”
Emma stopped at the underground passage’s entrance and turned back. Ellen hesitated.
“Thanks. But come to think of it, I don’t have permission to enter either.”
She hadn’t considered it being restricted to outsiders. After a moment, she called Nesh quietly.
While waiting, Ellen took a sky-blue box from the family’s shared pocket.
Roil, I’m at the entrance of the basement. Can I go in?
If not, come out for a moment.
She scribbled this on a piece of paper from the box and hung it around Nesh’s neck as he arrived.
“Nesh, take this to Roil. Emma, go back. I’ll decide after seeing Roil’s reply.”
After sending Emma back, Ellen lingered at the passage entrance. Soon, she heard jingling and saw Nesh flying toward her, followed by Venner.
“Sir Roillette asked me to escort you.”
Ellen took a deep breath and followed Venner.
After walking a little, they reached an iron-barred door. Venner closed and locked it behind her. The jingling she heard earlier was this door.
‘Nesh is too big to fit between these bars?’
Ellen looked back and forth between the bars and Nesh.
‘Ah, right. Cats are like liquid.’
She chuckled, recalling the old joke about cats.
Ellen quickened her pace to keep up with Venner. The underground was dim but not pitch-black, thanks to embedded night crystals.
Soon, they reached a series of doors with tighter bars. Only one glimmered with light.
“This is it.”
Inside, Roil and Sir Letty stood as Ellen entered.
“You came?”
“What’s the difference between me and that kid!”
A scream-like shout met her ears. Ellen froze, unable to answer Roil’s greeting or Sir Letty’s bow.
She turned toward the sound. It was naturally Sila, tied to a chair.
Seeing her, Ellen felt relief. Though her lips were split and cheeks swollen, there were no signs of torture. She must have been hit while resisting during capture.
Ellen recalled Sila as she had first seen her years ago. Her face was injured then too, but now, she felt no pity.
✿ ✿ ✿
When Sila, half-resigned, screamed for help, she noticed people approaching. Relief surged—until she saw two children.
Her despair returned. Then, two strong adult men hurriedly lifted the children, keeping them away from her.
Sila felt both misery and anger. She was the most endangered person. Why did they care about the children first?
“Stop protecting them! Stop that guy!”
The girl hanging from the man’s arm yelled.
‘Exactly! Help me first!’
Sila agreed internally and pushed back the half-brother pinning her with all her strength.
