Chapter 32
Anne passed by May and headed straight for Sam Robert. His hands appeared unbound, indicating he’d already confessed everything.
“Sam Robert, where is the jeweler Nicholas Will?”
“I don’t know where he is! He was friends with Kevin. I only met him through Kevin’s introduction. It’s the truth!”
“But you met him, didn’t you? You were there when the dress was made and the jewelry was offered.”
“Well, I said it looked good so you’d order the bigger jewels…! I only received a margin on the dresses. Twenty percent of that went to May Marlow. The one who made the most money was Nicholas, not me! Ask May Marlow!”
Frightened of Anne too, the man crossed his arms tightly over his chest and shouted. With tear-swollen eyes, May slowly raised her head.
“That’s right. Nicholas Will took the largest cut. He said he’d use that money to bring a doctor from the capital for Sylvia. Kevin introduced him. He sold jewels to nobles in Edith Tara. I paid him a sufficient commission.”
“Did you know those jewels were all fakes?”
Listening to May, Anne made a guess. It was true that there had been embezzlement.
She had introduced Sam Robert to overcharge for the dresses and sell the jewelry at inflated prices.
But having gained some understanding of the Westerners’ blind faith in witches, Anne couldn’t bring herself to believe that May Marlow—who was born and raised in the region and had served the Clayde family for generations—would have gone so far as to betray her mistress.
“No. No—Anne! I only lied enough to cover the cost of the medicine. I inflated the dress prices a little, and charged a bit more for the accessories. Of course, I know that’s a grave sin. I dared to lie to the Claydes. But I swear to the witch, I never sold fake jewels.”
“But Sam Robert must’ve known. He dealt with the dresses and likely saw the jewelry often—could he really not have known they were counterfeit?”
When Anne looked at Sam, he frantically shook his head, pale as a ghost.
“Nicholas Will told me the pieces he showed were just models for design purposes. He said the real gems would be used at the actual party. But it’s not like I’d have a chance to see the lady at the real party!”
Naïve or just stupid.
Now Anne could understand why Westerners were so wary of people from the capital.
Even Anne felt she could easily deceive them with just a little cunning.
“Anne, catch that man. Drag that bastard down to hell with me. I did it for Sylvia. I didn’t mean to disgrace the Claydes!”
As May cried out, Sam Robert also gripped the prison bars and joined in.
“Nicholas Will! He’s the real con man! All I did was make dresses!”
Just then—clang!—a loud thud against the wall announced Victoria’s arrival.
“Con artists sure have long tongues, don’t they?”
“Milady, why did you bring that fire poker?”
Storming down with puffed-up shoulders, Victoria had clearly thrown away all lady-like manners she’d been taught.
“Milady—.”
Anne opened her mouth to intervene, but Victoria brushed past her, heading straight to May’s cell.
“May, did I look that pathetic to you? Did you not even see me as a Clayde?”
Kneeling on the floor, May bowed her head deeply when she saw Victoria.
“Please kill me. I have no desire to live anymore.”
“I heard from the butler. You did this for your daughter?”
Anne quietly approached Victoria and took the fire poker from her hand.
Though Victoria’s clenched fists still radiated fury and hurt, there was a strange calmness in the way she looked at May.
“Must be nice, for your daughter.”
“…?”
May looked up at Victoria in confusion at the soft-spoken words.
“Must be nice to be loved until the day you die. So go ahead and follow her soon. Don’t expect to be spared—I have no intention of forgiving you. I’ll kill every last one of you. You, and everyone who joined in your scam.”
Even though it was Victoria whose anger had nearly exploded, it was May who burst into tears first.
“Thank you, Milady. I’m so sorry. Lady Victoria…”
Muttering her apologies and gratitude over and over again, May slammed her head against the floor in tears.
Beside her, Sam Robert cried out for mercy, claiming his innocence, but no one paid him any attention.
After leaving the prison, Anne brought Victoria to the drawing room and sat her down at the tea table.
It was her way of helping her calm down, with the soothing aroma of hot tea.
“Tea made by Anne is always delicious.”
“Now we won’t have to worry about small talk during tea time.”
When Victoria gave a small smile at Anne’s comment, the heavy atmosphere lightened a little.
“Let’s resume preparations for the party and begin practicing social dancing starting tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
The investigation had to continue, but preparing for Victoria’s party was more urgent.
Under the direction of Butler Patrick, a thorough investigation into May’s crimes and a full review of the servants was carried out.
Anne assisted Patrick by checking and organizing the maid reports, while continuing to teach Victoria and plan the party.
One day, Patrick reviewed the music list Anne had prepared and asked,
“I haven’t heard this piece before—is it typically used at balls?”
To begin practicing the social dances quickly, Anne had invited an orchestra to play and was selecting pieces—mostly bright and lively dance music.
Patrick frowned slightly as he scanned the selection.
“Yes, these are dance pieces for the upcoming birthday party. I wanted the young lady to listen and choose them herself.”
Patrick’s expression darkened.
“Is there a problem?”
“I haven’t been to many parties myself, but in the West, people don’t typically dance to such upbeat music.”
“…What?”
Anne finally realized her mistake.
She had been teaching Victoria the dances and music from the capital—but this wasn’t the capital.
“I should’ve found a local instructor from the West in the first place.”
“Well, better late than never.”
“But with the young count away, is there anyone nearby we can ask for help?”
Patrick furrowed his brow in thought as well.
Victoria had no maternal family, and the Clayde family was small. Earl Arthur’s parents were only children, and so was he.
“Did the late countess have any close friends or trusted vassals she often associated with?”
At times like this, the presence of a lady of the house was sorely missed. Patrick then spoke as if remembering something.
“What about the Marchioness of Deruca? She’s a major figure in Western social circles. She used to visit often while the lady was alive, and her family holds great prestige. The young lady could learn much from her.”
“Oh! Then—”
Just as Anne was about to ask Patrick to make arrangements, she remembered: the Deruca family was the maternal side of Hannibal Clayde.
Which meant Victoria would be seen as an eyesore. Anne pressed a hand to her forehead again.
“For a lord’s estate, you’d think there’d be some noble retainers to handle these things. But I suppose none were appointed.”
“Since the Earl and the young lord often disagreed, it’s been difficult to bring in new people.”
After Sarah Clayde’s death, there had been no lady of the house, and contact with other noble families had dwindled. Even the vassals sent by Earl Arthur were rejected by Hannibal because they were from the capital.
Anne finally asked something she’d long wondered about.
“Does the young count have a reason for disliking people from the capital so much?”
She knew there was regional tension between the West and East—especially between Tegenes and Edith Tara—but Hannibal’s hostility seemed extreme.
He was cold and blunt to everyone, but to Anne in particular, he’d been suspicious and unpleasant from the moment she arrived.
“He wouldn’t hate something for no reason. That’s all for today.”
Patrick brushed off the question, and Anne didn’t press further. Instead, she returned to see Victoria.
“We’ll need to find a new dance instructor, Milady. The songs and dances I know aren’t used in the West.”
“Oh no, and I worked so hard too…”
Victoria sighed, and Anne was overcome with guilt.
“I’ll ask the young count to find a suitable instructor as soon as he returns.”
“Shall we rest until then?”
Victoria smiled like a carefree child, happy for the rare chance to relax. But fortunately, that free time didn’t last long.
* * *
To retrieve the witch’s compass, they had ridden all day and finally arrived at the border.
Fortunately, the woman hadn’t gone beyond the desert, but had stopped in a grassy plain at the edge of Tegenes territory.
A flat land with no hills, only low wild grasses. Hannibal held up a lantern to light the surroundings.
“Over there!!”
One of the knights pointed, and several others gasped.
In the center of the plain, fully exposed, two monsters had just finished their meal.
Grrrr—
As light shone on them, they raised their blood-covered heads. The ground was littered with stains and remains.
Frowning, Hannibal drew his sword.
“Retrieve the witch’s relic.”
As he stepped forward, the knights followed, drawing their blades.
Under the moonlight, dozens of swords gleamed.
For the elite knights, trained in monster extermination, two beasts were hardly a challenge.
After a brief clash, the monsters were soon decapitated and collapsed to the ground.
“There’s… no corpse.”
Oliver, sounding troubled, found the witch’s compass and approached Hannibal.
“I didn’t expect monsters to make it out this far. Could it be the relic’s influence?”
“…They were probably hiding out nearby. Increase patrols in this region.”
Hannibal gave his orders and took the witch’s compass. He wiped away the blood and secured the relic, then sighed.
The chase was finally over—for now.
