Chapter 24
Anne thought of Hannibal Claid.
A man who was only scheming how to send off a woman who had miscarried, casually referring to his own sister as caught in the “claws of Claid.”
At thirteen, he had lost his mother, who had effectively been the lord. At fourteen, he was already participating in monster subjugations and leading battles, eventually being recognized as the next heir.
But to Anne, before being a lord, he was a wretched human being.
The respected lord of Teneges didn’t even know how someone in his own family was suffering.
Even as his family was being cornered into silence, unable to speak their minds or share their thoughts.
He probably just assumed, in his own convenient way, that they were living comfortably in a nice house.
“I’ll talk to him.”
Anne decided to face Hannibal Claid on Victoria’s behalf.
If, back then, there had been someone who could have spoken sincerely to Grey for her…
If there had been someone to stand up to the former Duchess for her…
If there had been even a single person who could have conveyed her desires, her grief—
Then maybe her tragic past wouldn’t haunt her so bitterly.
“What is it you want from the young count?”
“I don’t know.”
Earlier, she’d said she wanted to escape. Now she didn’t know?
She was just a child, unable to understand even her own feelings.
Victoria was a year older than Anne, yet she still felt naive and innocent, like a debutante who hadn’t yet entered society.
“Then let’s start figuring it out. What you like, for instance.”
“How?”
Her lovely silver hair, mystical violet-blue eyes, and snow-white skin—
Victoria Claid was beautiful even by looks alone.
But the twin pigtails and overly bright yellow dress made her look immature and foolish.
“First, try not to feel trapped in the manor. Think freely about what you’d like to do. For example… how about going shopping?”
“Can I go out?”
Her curious face looked as though the thought had never even crossed her mind.
“Wait, don’t tell me… you’ve never been outside?”
“I was told not to go.”
Anne barely managed to hide her shock at Victoria’s casual, matter-of-fact reply.
“By whom?”
“The Countess of Claid.”
Why did this dead woman, gone for ten years, keep coming up?
Victoria always acted willfully, seemingly unrestrained.
Anne had assumed she was simply neglected—left alone so long that even death around her wouldn’t faze her.
But it seemed there was another reason she had been confined inside the manor.
“Even the maids go out sometimes. Why shouldn’t you? You can go.”
“Really? I can go shopping?”
Victoria’s eyes sparkled.
“You want to go shopping?”
“Yes!”
Despite the first impression, Victoria Claid was rather sweet and pure once you got to know her.
She cried easily, got annoyed easily, became angry easily—
But just as easily, she calmed down and shyly apologized.
She was ignorant and simple, like a creature raised in the wild.
And yet, Anne discovered she was actually quick to pick up on things—sensitive and perceptive, with a sharp learning ability.
But Victoria had no particular hobbies or talents. It was a relief she could even read, albeit awkwardly.
She had apparently learned that before coming to the manor, when she was still with her birth mother under the count’s roof.
Which meant the Countess had deliberately deprived young Victoria of a proper education.
“Alright. So what would you like to buy? Dresses? Shoes?”
“All of it!”
“I’ll speak to the young count.”
Victoria’s face lit up with Anne’s words—
as if the idea of going out had been so forbidden, she’d never even imagined it.
After spending some time with Victoria, Anne stopped by Mathilda’s room.
After confirming the girl was asleep, she re-applied ointment to the wound on her palm.
Then, she sat in a chair and passed a rare moment of quiet.
As she quietly watched Mathilda, Anne found herself thinking how old and worn this room felt.
It wasn’t just the room.
Anne recalled a conversation she once had with Dona.
“Why does the interior of the manor stay the same all year round? When I shook the tapestry, a puff of white dust fell. If the family crest is that filthy, what would guests say at a party?”
Dona had replied casually.
“After the Countess died, there haven’t been any proper parties held at the manor. Whenever the Count comes, events are held at the guesthouse or some other noble’s villa. Even Lady Victoria’s debutante was held at the Viscount Deruka’s mansion, not here.”
The Teneges manor was old and dusty, as if frozen in time.
Though the Count still returned once a year, and though Hannibal Claid currently oversaw everything without issue—
The manor still reeked of Sarah Claid’s lingering presence.
Perhaps that’s why Victoria still felt like the Countess was alive.
How different could the Count and the young count be?
Did they really not know that Victoria was living like a prisoner?
“You’re a maid, Anne Pero.”
You must not concern yourself too deeply in the affairs of the family.
Anne slapped both her cheeks with a loud smack.
Perhaps the sound woke Mathilda—she stirred groggily.
“You’re awake?”
“……”
“Eat something first. You need your strength.”
Whether for revenge or escape, she needed stamina first.
Anne brought over the soup she had prepared and began spooning it to Mathilda.
Without a word, Mathilda ate the whole bowl and soon drifted off again.
Even though she had once been infuriating, Anne couldn’t help but feel sorry for her now that she was ill.
“Get well soon.”
Anne gently smoothed Mathilda’s tangled hair and stepped out of the room.
She headed toward the kitchen to help with dinner preparations—when she overheard someone.
“The young count is back.”
“At least he’s early today. Let’s get dinner ready.”
The maids began moving faster.
As soon as she heard, Anne quickly headed to Hannibal’s study.
Knock knock.
She waited through three breaths.
“Who is it?”
“This is Anne Pero. I came to speak with you, young count.”
The door opened immediately. At Hannibal’s nod, Jack exited the room.
They were alone in the large office.
Anne stood a step inside and offered a polite bow.
“What do you want?”
Seated at his desk, Hannibal didn’t even look up from the papers in his hand.
“I’d like to take Lady Victoria out for a walk. We plan to go shopping—”
“Go out if you want. Shopping? Do you even have money?”
Victoria wasn’t given an allowance.
But with her lavish clothes and jewelry, Anne hadn’t considered it.
“I’d appreciate if you could help with that as well.”
“What’s the point of going out? She used to just call designers in before.”
Hannibal was receiving reports on Victoria as well.
How much she spent, whom she yelled at or assaulted—it was all documented.
He just didn’t care.
“Women use shopping to make friends and build social skills. With her birthday approaching, she likely wants to see what’s trendy.”
“Anne, isn’t that your opinion? Victoria has never once left this manor.”
Don’t argue. Stay polite and quiet.
But Anne, disturbed by the assumption so confidently spoken, calmly replied,
“Isn’t it strange that she’s never once wanted to go out?”
“No one stopped her. No one in the Claid family ever forbade or oppressed her.”
“…The young lady wants to go.”
Not wanting to drag the conversation further, Anne tried to end it.
But Hannibal set down the papers and looked up.
“So she can go out and throw another tantrum? What if someone gets hurt—or dies? Anne Pero, will you take responsibility for encouraging her?”
The vicious and violent Lady Claid—
That’s how some had referred to her at parties.
The wild, unruly illegitimate daughter wreaking havoc in the manor—
That was practically accepted truth in Teneges.
But if anyone had paid a little attention, they might have noticed the situation she was in.
She wanted to escape, but didn’t know how.
No, she hadn’t even realized she could.
When you’re caged, that’s how it is.
You can’t tell how broken you’ve become, whether your thoughts or actions are right or wrong.
You just start believing that even your breathing must be wrong—
because they say everything is your fault.
That’s how Anne had died inside.
And that’s how Victoria had lashed out.
That’s how a person goes mad.
Would they only realize it after she died?
Even while Anne lived under the Duchess’s name, Grey had believed she was safe, living comfortably in a luxurious estate.
With maids to do everything, what more could she need?
Victoria, too, would remain caged in this manor until she was married off.
And Hannibal Claid would never, not once, truly understand how she had lived.
“I’ll take responsibility.”
