Chapter – 43
A red-haired woman, who had been looking in the direction of the faint white smoke rising into the sky, finally opened her mouth.
“Is it over?”
No sooner had she spoken than a cloud of ashen smoke surged upward, then quickly subsided.
“Where exactly is that?”
“That’s where the grain warehouses owned by the Lemaire Count’s family are gathered.”
“Lemaire… that Lemaire?”
“Yes. The family known for the twin young ladies and their distribution business.”
At the servant’s explanation, Asili nodded.
Twins—those she certainly remembered.
The Lemaire count’s house… it was said to be a wealthy one, but hadn’t she heard they’d been struggling recently?
Asili tilted her head as she recalled the flames that had shot up with a boom and the sudden calm that followed.
“There really was a fire just now, right?”
“Yes. But they say it’s already been handled.”
“That’s a relief. Then that loud noise earlier?”
“It was an explosion.”
At the servant’s answer, Asili glanced up at the sky and tilted her head again.
It seemed the explosion had led to the fire, and yet despite how dry the weather was, the situation hadn’t gotten worse.
“They must have had good fire-prevention measures.”
“Yes, well… since fires happen so often there, they’ve gotten used to dealing with them.”
“Fires happen often?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s strange.”
Even a rough look at the area made it clear that this was a district full of warehouses.
But frequent fires?
In a place like this, even one fire should be enough to cause an uncontrollable disaster.
Which is why prevention should be even more thorough than fire-fighting.
“There’s a reason fires break out, but they haven’t been able to solve it, so they just got good at putting them out?”
“I’m not sure about that part, my lady. I apologize.”
Asili waved her hand quickly at the servant bowing their head.
“There’s nothing for you to apologize for. Don’t bow over something so trivial.”
She spoke casually, then closed her mouth with a faint, helpless smile.
She’d spent enough time in this world now that having someone ‘serve’ her felt almost normal.
What if she went back home and accidentally treated random people like this?
Go back… could she even go back?
She shook her head to stop her thoughts from spiraling, and the servant spoke timidly.
“Shall I go find out what happened?”
“No, it’s just something we passed by.”
Asili’s presence here was nothing but coincidence.
The chance that she, who rarely left the grand duke’s residence, would be at the outer-city warehouse district at the exact moment an explosion occurred—
And the chance that she would step out of the carriage to take a break at that exact moment—
The only reason she broke through all those improbable odds was one person.
‘Asili! Your big brother’s here!’
‘Ugh, that burn of a man—how long has it been since he left?’
Even now, Haidel’s voice echoed so sharply in her ears that she instinctively rubbed them.
He wasn’t even her real brother, yet how could he act so much like one?
She’d come out mostly to escape his pestering, and partly to check on the scrap of a hint he’d dropped before.
A crackpot scholar obsessed with other worlds…
It felt like she was seeking out some fortune-teller of a friend of a cousin of an acquaintance.
She had only barely brushed the end of the so-called clue, and it was anything but hopeful.
As she turned toward her intended direction, she glanced once more at the warehouse where the explosion had occurred.
“A flour warehouse, huh. No wonder there was an explosion.”
It was nothing more than a thoughtless murmur, spoken without any context.
She soon looked away from the smoke and continued on her path.
And in that moment, another coincidence occurred—one she was unaware of.
A worker nearby, who had been bowing low to avoid drawing attention from someone who looked clearly important, managed to overhear her muttered words with perfect clarity.
“‘No wonder,’ she said?”
He blinked, then immediately grabbed his trouser leg and sprinted off toward the manager.
The manager was in the middle of scolding a young man smeared with soot when the worker rushed up and started babbling breathlessly.
“What? She said it was no wonder?”
“Yes, that’s what she said!”
“Who said that? Where’d you hear it?”
The manager leaned forward, flapping his ears like a hound. The young man perked his ears too.
The worker blinked his round eyes several times, then let out an “Ah!”
“Well, she had bright red hair, so… Bo… Bobo…”
“Bolsheik?”
“Yes! Yes, that young lady!”
The worker even clapped his hands, but the manager gave him a doubtful look.
“You sure?”
“Absolutely! Where else would you see hair like that? Only the Bolsheiks!”
“Wait—then why would someone that important come here…?”
The manager and worker blinked at each other.
“Y-yeah, why…?”
“That’s odd…”
Then the manager smacked the worker on the back of the head.
“So you did see wrong!”
“N-no! There was a carriage! Right there! She was just resting for a moment!”
The worker’s desperate protest made the manager pause. He grabbed the worker by the back of the neck.
“You absolutely sure? If you’re not…”
He dragged a finger across his throat.
The worker gulped, then nodded vigorously.
“I’m sure.”
“Then what are we doing standing here? We need to go—finally, something to work with!”
“Uh, what is—”
The young man tried to ask, but the manager shoved his face away.
“The more you know, the worse for you. Go do your job.”
Leaving the confused young man behind, the manager and worker ran toward the Lemaire estate.
A while later…
Bang!
Count Lemaire slammed his desk.
“What have you all been doing?!”
“We have no excuse.”
The advisors bowing before him had nothing to say.
As the count looked at them, he forced down another eruption of anger and slumped into his chair.
A suffocating silence spread through the room.
Rubbing his throbbing temples, the count spoke.
“The damage?”
“We expected a fire and prepared ahead of time, so the losses are minimal.”
But despite the report of minimal damage, the count’s face remained tense.
Too many explosions, too many fires.
All these months, and still no clue as to the cause.
“The cause this time?”
He asked with a sliver of hope—but hope was just disappointment in disguise.
No one answered. Heads only dropped lower.
He sighed deeply, rubbing his temple again.
This whole ordeal had taken a tremendous toll on the family—no, an extreme one.
“What is the problem…”
Still, no answer.
When the fires had first begun, everyone had at least offered theories.
‘Arson, perhaps?’
‘The marquis’ family is suspicious.’
‘It might simply be an accident.’
The first, second, and even third fires had not shaken the Lemaire family too deeply.
Their long-built trust and reputation weren’t so fragile as to collapse from a few accidents.
But as the explosions became frequent and dragged on for months, business gradually dwindled.
And now…
“With this one, even the clients who stayed only out of loyalty might turn away.”
No matter how many times he sighed, the frustration only grew.
Knock, knock.
“Come in.”
A servant entered, shrinking under the heavy atmosphere.
“A manager from the warehouse district insists he must see you, my lord.”
“A manager?”
“Yes. The one overseeing the area where today’s fire occurred.”
Under normal circumstances, a mere manager wouldn’t even dream of meeting the count.
But with the fires continuing for months, the count had ordered that anything related be reported directly to him.
“Send him in.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Soon a pale-faced manager, his skin blotched with soot, walked in—followed by a worker who looked moments away from vomiting from nervousness.
The count didn’t bother with pleasantries.
“Well? What is it? I already heard about the explosion and the fire.”
“Yes, my lord. About that fire…”
As the manager and worker relayed the story, the count’s eyebrows shot up.
“She said a fire was expected?”
“Yes, she said it was bound to happen…”
“Surely she isn’t the arsonist…”
If only it were someone’s arson—it would’ve been less maddening than this endless mystery.
“Who is she? And why didn’t you bring her with you?”
At the count’s pressing, the manager answered extremely cautiously.
“Well… the one who said it was the young lady of House Bolsheik.”
“Bolsheik? That Bolsheik?”
“Yes, my lord.”
