Chapter 35
Baron Everchen was too proud to get his hands dirty, and his loud, scheming wife lacked the wit or tact to act herself.
So, when the family desperately needed money, it was their son Harber Everchen who stepped forward. He sought out wealthy, aging nobles, politely entertained them, and carefully steered the conversations so they would consider proposing to his half-sister.
It was something society would sneer at, of course. Even Rickman Overhan didn’t particularly like Harber’s method of selling out Agnès for money.
But if Agnès hadn’t been the woman in question—if it had been someone else—Rickman might have admired him.
Because in Rickman’s mind, anyone willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of the family’s survival was respectable.
He despised men like Baron Everchen—men who talked endlessly about pride and appearances but did nothing. Men who cleared their throats instead of taking action, who waited for someone else to solve their problems.
By contrast, Harber was someone Rickman could at least talk to. That was why Rickman sought him out and shared his plan.
As expected, Harber listened, nodded, and quickly agreed.
***
“Father, Mother,” Rickman began smoothly, “I’ve come to end this pointless mud-slinging and make peace with Agnès. I want to reconcile with her.”
“What nonsense is this?” Baron Everchen snapped. “You’re the one who threw her out in the first place!”
Rickman sighed as though pained and shook his head.
“Of course, Agnès was at fault,” he said, his tone full of false regret. “She’s a spirited girl—too bold for her own good. But surely you know she isn’t a bad person at heart. I only wanted her to learn from her mistakes. Perhaps I went too far, I admit that. But after I forgave so many of her mistakes, isn’t it unfair that she refused to forgive me for just one?”
Rickman’s polite and humble act softened the baron somewhat. Slowly, his anger began to fade.
“Yes, well… I suppose I can see your point. Still, what’s done is done. Agnès and the Duke of Basteron have already held their engagement ceremony. Even the Emperor himself attended! Our family wasn’t invited, but that’s beside the point.”
Rickman smiled slightly. “Even so, not even His Majesty can control matters of the heart. If Agnès wishes to break off the engagement, she can do so.”
The baron leaned back and exhaled through his nose.
“I’m sorry to say this, but she doesn’t seem to have any intention of doing that. And let’s be honest, a match with the Duke of Basteron—a royal duke—is something we could never have dreamed of. It’s an honor for our family.”
Rickman nodded calmly. “Of course, His Grace is a noble and highly respected man, far above me in status. But tell me, my lord—can the Everchen family afford a dowry worthy of such a union?”
The direct question made the baron choke and cough violently—his usual way of showing irritation. Rickman had to fight to keep from smirking.
But he hadn’t said it just to insult him; this was persuasion by manipulation.
“I didn’t mean to imply that the Everchen family lacks the means,” Rickman said smoothly. “But the Duke of Basteron is royal blood. Nobles of that level are often… prideful. I can only imagine what kind of outrageous dowry he must have demanded.”
That justification soothed the baron’s ego. His shoulders relaxed a little.
“Yes, yes, you’re right. No ordinary man could prepare such a dowry easily. Of course, I don’t think His Grace meant any harm—he was born into luxury, after all. He probably doesn’t even realize how much money that is. But still, one can’t exactly complain about a demand made by royalty, can one?”
The baron’s words didn’t entirely make sense.
In truth, Dylan, the Duke of Basteron, had never demanded a dowry at all.
It had been Agnès herself who insisted on one—she wanted her family to show sincerity if they wished to benefit from her new marriage.
If the Everchens hadn’t been so greedy, there would have been no problem.
But restraint was something neither the baron nor his wife had ever possessed.
***
Rickman put on a look of sympathy. “I know how much you care about your tenants, my lord. You’ve always put the welfare of your people above your own gain.”
Even though it was obvious flattery, the baron nodded gravely, pretending it was true.
“That’s right. Always have.”
Rickman gave a polite nod of agreement and gestured to his servant, who had been waiting nearby.
“I was thinking,” he continued, “that I’ve neglected my duties toward you and Lady Everchen these past few months because of my estrangement from Agnès. I’d like to make up for that.”
At his signal, the servant stepped forward and set a small, ornate box on the desk before the baron.
The baron blinked, his curiosity piqued. “And this is…?”
“A small gift,” Rickman said gently. “A token of respect and apology. I added a little more than usual, since it’s been a while.”
The baroness gasped delightedly. “Oh my, oh my! What did I tell you? Our son-in-law is so generous!”
The baron swallowed hard, trying not to show how tempted he was.
The truth was, he needed money desperately. He hated the idea of mortgaging his estate, but he also wanted to live comfortably—and if that meant marrying his daughter off to someone rich again, so be it.
As he stared at the glittering box, even he had to admit that Rickman Overhan might not be such a bad match after all.
His voice softened. “If you truly wish to reconcile with Agnès, I won’t oppose it. I’ve always respected how polite you were to our family. But the problem is, Agnès won’t even see us these days. Her mind seems made up. So tell me—what can we possibly do to help you?”
Rickman smiled thinly. “There are many ways, my lord. All I ask is that you invite her here. Once she arrives, leave the rest to me.”
The baron frowned. “And what exactly do you plan to do?”
Rickman’s smile deepened. “They say the Duke of Basteron is a monster who feeds on human blood, don’t they?”
The baron stiffened. “…That rumor does exist, yes. But what are you implying?”
“Bring Agnès here,” Rickman said quietly. “We’ll examine her body. If she really has been bitten—if there are marks—then as her father, wouldn’t you have every right to ‘protect’ her?”
The baron’s eyes widened slightly, then narrowed as he began to follow Rickman’s logic.
“Well… yes. Yes, that would be our duty as her family.”
Rickman’s plan was cruel but simple.
If he could lure Agnès away from the Duke’s protection, he could easily inflict a few bite marks himself.
Once that was done, he could claim she was being harmed by the Duke—and “rescue” her in the name of fatherly duty.
The baron nodded, fully convinced, and the two men exchanged a silent, sinister understanding.
Rickman’s lips twisted into a crooked smile.
Just wait, Agnès, he thought coldly. Even if your new husband is a duke, I’ll take back what’s mine—Noah, and you.
