Chapter 33
After Hannibal dismounted, he stopped after walking just a few steps and gave a loud command.
“We’ll rest briefly, then depart at sunrise.”
The area was a flat plain, with no real place to hide or take shelter.
It was better to pitch tents in the middle of the open grasslands where they could clearly see if an ambush occurred.
The makeshift bed, made of hard blankets, couldn’t be called comfortable by any stretch, but Hannibal lay down without hesitation.
Just how many battlefields had he spent his youth in to become so accustomed to this?
“Useless wretch.”
The face of his father looking down at him in disdain after his first expedition was still vivid, as if it had happened just yesterday.
Spending a single day with his father was more mentally exhausting than braving the wind and rain alone on his way to the witch’s forest after being cast out of the lord’s castle.
“I married your mother and had you to protect the west. So your mother and you both have no reason to exist if not for Teganes.”
To gain recognition from that father, and to uphold his mother’s teachings, Hannibal had struggled all this time.
He stared blankly at the family ring on his index finger, then pulled the thin blanket up to his neck.
He was tall, so even with the blanket pulled up slightly, his toes were left exposed. Though summer was near, the night air inside the tent was chilly.
Familiar cold, familiar discomfort, and familiar suspicion and hatred. Hannibal clenched his ringed hand tightly.
“I am the lord of Teganes now.”
Not my father, me—Hannibal Clayde.
He was nothing like Arthur Clayde, the coward who fell from his horse and caused even his grandparents to give up because of his irrational fear of witches.
I will protect this land and its people with my own strength.
Therefore, he could no longer allow anyone to threaten his place. No matter how small the rat, he wouldn’t show mercy again.
Checking the witch’s compass placed by his bedside, Hannibal finally closed his eyes.
* * *
Three days later, Hannibal Clayde and his knights returned.
“The lord has returned—!”
A servant came running in, shouting.
Victoria was in the middle of a dress fitting with Andre, so Anne went out to greet them first.
“Anne, stand beside me. You’re the head maid now.”
Seeing Anne line up behind the maids, Patrick called her over.
Though it was only temporary, she was still the head maid. Anne bowed her head and approached to stand beside him.
Soon the doors opened, and Hannibal, his adjutant Oliver, and attendant Jack appeared.
“Welcome back, my lord.”
As Patrick bowed deeply, Anne and the other servants followed suit.
“Did you catch all the criminals?”
“We’ve captured Sam Robert and May Marlow. Kevin Rodgill and Sylvia Marlow are dead. The jeweler Nicholas is still at large.”
“So someone’s hiding him. Still too many rats lurking in Teganes.”
Hannibal swept his gaze over the servants, raising one eyebrow when he saw Anne standing beside Patrick.
A look that said, Why is she standing next to you? The butler answered the unspoken question.
“Lady Victoria appointed Anne as head maid. She filled in for May without missing a beat.”
“Is that so?”
Hannibal glanced briefly at the crown of Anne’s head, then turned and walked ahead.
“Brother.”
Victoria came out, apparently finished with her fitting, and greeted Hannibal. Patrick and Anne followed the two siblings.
“Did you catch Mathilda?”
As soon as they entered Hannibal’s private office, Victoria asked.
“She was already gone by the time we traced her location. Two demonic beasts were lurking nearby, so I killed them and retrieved the witch’s artifact.”
Anne silently opened her mouth in shock, then clasped her hands tightly.
Mathilda was dead. Not even a trace remained.
“Once you’ve extracted the full confessions, execute them immediately. It’s a waste of air to keep them alive.”
Hannibal gave a swift decision after hearing Patrick’s report.
But if Sam and May were killed, how would they capture Nicholas?
As Anne looked at him with a puzzled expression, Hannibal didn’t miss her gaze and asked,
“Anne Ferro, do you have something to say?”
“I was wondering… wouldn’t it be better to keep them alive if we want to capture the jeweler and recover the embezzled funds?”
“Teganes has far crueler tortures than simply cutting off Sam Robert’s wrist. And if even that doesn’t make him talk, then there’s no point in keeping him alive.”
Anne nodded in understanding.
The embezzled funds were a mere drop in the bucket compared to the Clayde estate. There was no need to go out of their way to recover it.
What mattered was revenge and punishment for betrayal.
“If the one hiding the jeweler is discovered, wipe out their entire family. Use any method of torture. Extract all confessions, then execute them on the spot.”
“Yes, sir!”
Attendant Jack left the office to relay the orders.
Patrick also stepped out with him. Just as Oliver was about to discreetly signal Victoria to leave—
“Victoria, you appointed Anne as head maid?”
“Yeah. There’s no one else I can trust.”
As Victoria shrugged, Hannibal’s gaze shifted to Anne.
If he raised his eyes to meet hers, would he be able to see what lay within?
She’d uncovered corruption within the lord’s castle. She deserved praise, and yet the words wouldn’t come easily.
“Alright, you may go.”
“Anne will remain as head maid, right?”
Victoria asked brightly on Anne’s behalf. Hannibal responded with a dissatisfied look.
“For now. Whether it becomes permanent depends on the outcome of your birthday party.”
“Yay! Got it. Anne, just trust me!”
Victoria, bubbling with excitement, hopped around. Anne calmed her down and followed her out.
They were only a year apart—Anne was actually a year younger—but she was far more mature, like someone who had lived decades longer.
If only she were from the West. Then Hannibal could call her “his person” without a shred of doubt.
“You want to doubt her, but there’s nothing suspicious to actually doubt, right?”
Oliver, reading Hannibal’s thoughts, teased.
“Get out.”
“What a mess, suspecting someone just for being from another region. It’s not like there aren’t other outsiders in Teganes.”
“That’s exactly why I can’t let my guard down. What if gaining my trust was her strategy from the start?”
“Hannibal.”
Oliver, who had known him a long time, felt frustrated that Hannibal always doubted people and never let anyone in.
Anne Ferro was a constant reminder of painful memories for Hannibal.
If only because she was from Edith Tara, the capital.
“Anne is a maid. A competent, diligent, trustworthy head maid. Don’t get confused.”
At Oliver’s repeated nagging, Hannibal furrowed his brow.
“I know.”
He waved him off irritably.
“Which means, get out, Oliver.”
* * *
Now that Hannibal had returned, Anne could finally focus fully on preparing Victoria’s party.
Only after getting advice from Andre did she realize how different the western region was from the capital—in terms of atmosphere, music, and dress trends.
It was truly too much for one person to handle.
So Anne began seeking help from longtime employees and their networks, and started revising the schedule.
From interior decoration of the lord’s castle, to invitations for guests, to dinner menus, decorations, and even the party program itself.
Meanwhile, the maids close to May had all been fired, so Anne had to take on maid duties herself—leaving her busier than ever.
And on top of it all, Hannibal demanded she bring the account books to him every day for inspection.
He probably did so to prevent another embezzlement scandal like last time—but now that Anne was the head maid, it only added more to her plate, and it wasn’t exactly pleasant.
She knocked on the door of Hannibal’s office, account books in hand.
“Come in.”
Hannibal answered curtly without even lifting his head. Anne entered, greeted him, and placed the books on his desk.
“Since the weather’s getting hotter, buy more fruit and distribute it to the servants.”
“Yes.”
“Anything else to report?”
As acting head maid, Anne still felt uncertain about when she could voice her opinions.
“…We’re short-staffed. I think we need to hire more maids.”
“Hm. Understood. Discuss it with the butler. I’ll leave the budget and hiring to your discretion.”
Fortunately, Hannibal was not stingy when it came to his staff.
“Thank you.”
Hannibal meticulously reviewed the expense reports page by page, then closed the account book.
“And.”
“Um, I—”
Hannibal and Anne spoke at the same time—he while handing her the book, and she while receiving it.
“You first.”
Anne couldn’t insist, so she began.
“I have a favor to ask, Lord Clayde.”
Hannibal set down the papers and looked up at Anne Ferro.
Even though she stood politely with her hands clasped, somehow it always felt like she was arguing with him.
“I’d like to find a dance tutor for Lady Victoria. What I know is more in line with the capital’s etiquette, so we need someone experienced in the western style of society.”
“What happened to your resolve to handle the party all on your own?”
Everyone else kept saying Anne Ferro was humble, gentle, and diligent—but Hannibal found himself speaking with unintended sarcasm.
