BSWRCPO 44

BSWRCPO

Chapter 44 5} Mostly Clumsy, but Occasionally a Genius

The shooting competition was just around the corner, but Edith had a few essential matters to attend to, so she had taken a few days of leave.

The carriage carrying her left the city. After a long ride, buildings became scarce, and wide fields of wheat stretched out before her. The countryside looked peaceful.

Although they had left early in the morning, the sun was already setting by the time they arrived.

The distance had been considerable. The rural village they reached after a full day’s travel consisted of a cluster of small farmhouses. Following the main road up a hill, they finally reached a modest estate.

Compared to Edith’s home, it was barely half the size, and the tiny garden in front of the two-story house was all it had. The stables and auxiliary buildings were at the edges of the property, so the carriage was left outside the gate while they walked in.

The butler who had come to greet her didn’t look particularly cheerful.

“You’re here, Edith.”

The butler had been in the service of her father, the former Duke of Ketsmoris. It felt awkward to formally greet her father before meeting the house owner.

Before seeing the master of the house, she first spoke with her father.

“How do you feel about staying here?”

Her father, whose face looked less sallow than before, likely from having spent less time drinking, took a sip of tea, perhaps embarrassed.

“Not bad. I’m managing well enough.”

“That’s good. I was worried you might struggle.”

“I’m sorry for burdening you.”

“No, Father. I was the one who should have apologized when you said you couldn’t pay off your debts.”

Even after Edith had become the heir to the ducal family, her father couldn’t give up gambling. Inevitably, he had borrowed and squandered money.

Even though Edith had contacted every possible source of funds in advance, it was useless. One lender, assuming a daughter wouldn’t ignore her father, lent him a small sum. It wasn’t much, but her father, a penniless gambler, had no means to repay it.

When the lender came all the way to the palace, Edith had firmly said:

“I’m sorry, but I will not pay the Ketsmoris family’s debts. My duty is to protect the family, not settle personal gambling losses.”

“Then what will you do with your father?”

“Handle it according to the law.”

Her refusal had been harsh, but even for a fictional family, it had pained her deeply. Still, it was the best course of action.

The lender eventually pressed charges. Her father faced a summary trial. He had to pay the debt either through work or risk being left destitute.

But being a noble, he was not sent to a lower-class labor camp. Edith arranged through a trusted acquaintance a suitable place for him to work. The position needed to be far enough away from the capital to preserve some dignity.

The job he was finally hired for was the butler of a small estate.

“How’s living and working here?”

“As you can see, it’s a quiet neighborhood… Eat, sleep, work. That’s about it. The accommodations aren’t bad at all.”

“The first payday should have passed. May I ask how that went?”

“He comes exactly on payday to collect it. I hand him the envelope.”

“Did anyone here discover who he really is?”

“Do you think I’m that careless? I said he’s a friend I know.”

The house owner was the only person who knew that her father worked here due to debt. He used the Ketsmoris name but was a distant branch of the family.

Being regarded as an ordinary butler, her father seemed quite competent here. Letters from the house owner praised him. His education and ability to manage the estate easily surpassed that of the local countryfolk.

Still, Edith couldn’t entirely erase her concern. Both father and daughter were in an awkward position—her father, a former duke, working as a servant.

“Excuse me… may I ask something?”

“What is it?”

“Are there gambling spots in this town?”

She had already checked through letters—there were no gambling dens nearby—but she wanted to ask directly.

“The local tavern hosts card games on weekends. Most people don’t have much, so the stakes are coins. Whoever wins buys the drinks, and that’s the end of it.”

“I see.”

That was hardly serious gambling. Just villagers enjoying a weekend evening. Edith didn’t encourage it; even small-scale gambling could grow over time, so caution was wise.

“Don’t worry, Edith. I’m done with that now.”

Her father reached to pat her hand, but withdrew. It was hard to appear confident before a daughter still burdened with massive debts.

“Yes, Father. I trust you.”

She couldn’t be sure her father would truly change, but she spoke to encourage him.

Other than having a job unbefitting a high noble, he looked better than he had in years—perhaps the best she had seen him in over four years.

“By my calculations, the debts should be cleared by next year. Then you can come back and find a job worthy of your station.”

They had only accounted for the small debts her father owed, but it was still progress. For the first time in his life, he was beginning to turn a profit.

“This place isn’t bad either. I’ll think about returning next year.”

“But…”

“I’ve finally quit gambling. If I go home, I can’t guarantee I won’t be tempted. Better to stay far away.”

“The butler role is quite a humble position for you, Father.”

“I hit rock bottom before. If you hadn’t made that decision, I might have lost a hand to a gangster debt collector.”

Edith had agonized over whether she had done the right thing, but her father’s acceptance filled her with relief. It was comforting to see him living with a clear mind.

The employer was a local minor duke with no ties to the city. Edith asked him to watch over her father’s well-being.

Returning home took much longer than when she left to visit her father.

Rain had turned the roads into mud, and the carriage wheel got stuck in a puddle. The driver and servant struggled for hours to free it, finally reaching home late at night.

To save on lighting, only a few rooms in the house were lit.

A servant, filling in for the missing butler, came to greet her.

“Master, I’ve been waiting anxiously.”

“Why? Did something happen?”

“A guest has arrived. They’ve been waiting for some time, and I wasn’t sure what to do…”

“What’s the guest’s name?”

“Well… I heard it but forgot.”

Unable to read, the servant had no way to note down visitors. The servant had never hosted guests and was unsure how to proceed.

“Have refreshments been served?”

“Yes, to that extent.”

“Good. I’ll go see immediately. Later, have the maid check if the guest needs more tea or food.”

Edith entered the dimly lit drawing room. It was quiet, and no one greeted her.

She noticed a tall, slender man lounging on a three-person sofa.

“Arty.”

Adrian was asleep.

One arm draped over the backrest, his body slanted, he looked exhausted from boredom. Perhaps he had dozed off while waiting.

“Arty?”

She called softly once more, but he didn’t wake.

Approaching closer, she noticed the reason—he smelled strongly of alcohol.

The servant’s earlier worry made sense. Adrian was likely unfamiliar with the servant and appeared drunk, yet sending away such a striking noble would have been difficult.

Edith knew Adrian rarely drank. He often avoided alcohol unless drinking with trusted friends, and even then, only a little.

Curious where he had been or why he had drunk so much, Edith perched lightly beside him, instinctively softening her breathing.

Even asleep, Adrian was stunningly beautiful. She felt almost guilty disturbing such a masterpiece.

She observed him like an art lover, taking in his waves of violet hair and the faint, pleasant scent that outshone the alcohol.

His neck arched forward, revealing a delicate nape, the vertebrae subtly raised beneath pale skin.

Long eyelashes cast shadows across half his face. His lips, radiant as if a flower had just been placed there, blurred the line between natural color and makeup.

Edith raised her hand several times, unsure whether to touch him. She couldn’t leave him completely untouched, so she cautiously fiddled with his collar.

“Um…”

Just as his wrist twitched,

“Ah!”

Her waist was gripped. Despite his slim frame, Adrian’s strength was formidable, pulling her close with hands as commanding as a soldier’s.

Her body, pulled helplessly, drew near his.

In the brief shock of the moment, he stumbled backward. Though he had pulled her close, he tilted as if she had pushed him.

Even as he fell onto the sofa, his arms circled her, holding her firmly.

“Uh… uh.”

Edith struggled but it was futile. Her unsteady posture only worsened the situation.

She collapsed across Adrian’s shoulder.

A sigh from him pierced the quiet—tender yet intense, a tone that would melt even the coldest heart.

A heady floral scent filled the air.