Chapter 42
That afternoon, Babel came to me and bowed.
His eyes looked puzzled, as if wondering why I had called him.
“My lady, I heard you asked for me.”
“Yes. Sit here.”
He sat on the side chair, waiting quietly for my command.
This wasn’t the first time.
When I asked him to arrange Erica’s birthday party, I had made him sit the same way.
Back then, though, Babel hadn’t truly been on my side.
His loyalty belonged only to Martin, so he couldn’t risk upsetting his master. That was why he had kept his distance from Gemma.
But now, he waited before me like a truly loyal butler—ready to follow my orders.
If it’s Babel, maybe he’ll have a clever way.
That was probably why Martin trusted him with so much work.
I gripped the contract paper in my hand tightly and spoke.
“I have a request.”
“Please tell me anything, my lady.”
I held out the contract but stopped for a moment.
“First, a promise. This must remain confidential.”
“That’s no problem.”
“Even if it means keeping it secret from my husband?”
I smiled as I asked. For a moment, the glare on Babel’s glasses hid his eyes.
“Can you do it?”
His hand, about to take the contract, froze in midair. He swallowed hard.
Finally, the light faded from his glasses, and his real expression showed.
He was clearly torn, but then he nodded.
“Yes. I can.”
His answer meant one thing: there was no “old Gemma” anymore.
“Of course—you are the mistress of the house.”
At least now, I wasn’t the helpless duchess I once had been.
Things between Martin and me had changed, and I was finally being recognized as the lady of the Cloud family.
I uncrossed my legs and continued.
“I want you to investigate someone.”
“…Investigate?”
“Look into the Harold family. I want every detail reported to me—nothing left out.”
He looked surprised.
“But isn’t the Harold family… your home?”
“Do you really think so?”
A home? A safe place? A family?
For Gemma, such a place had never existed.
Yes, she had returned there every year for Erica’s birthday, but it was never because it was a safe haven.
Even if I didn’t know everything about the Viscountess, one thing was clear: to her, Gemma was only a tool.
How could that ever be called “home”?
I let out a bitter laugh and pressed on.
“There are things that don’t feel right. That’s why my husband must not know about this.”
“Do you mean to keep it secret forever?”
“No. Only for a while.”
I answered immediately, without hesitation. Babel nodded.
My conversation with the Viscountess had already confirmed it—she really had taken Cloud money through Gemma.
Now I needed proof of where that money had gone and how it was used.
“I understand.”
Babel’s lips tightened in determination.
He signed the contract and then returned to his duties.
If Martin knew and took away Gemma’s control of money…
Then it was no surprise their relationship had soured.
Martin had thrown himself into work for the family day and night.
Meanwhile, Gemma had secretly handed funds to the Harold family without even telling him.
That must have been unbearable for Martin.
And Gemma, for some reason, hadn’t been able to stand up to the Viscountess.
So the problem had circled endlessly without resolution.
Leaning back in my chair, I closed my eyes, and fatigue rushed over me.
Then I remembered—I hadn’t read Martin’s letter yet.
I straightened up, opened it carefully, and read.
I just arrived, so I’m sending this letter.
During the whole carriage ride, I felt like I could hear your voice.
How was your day?
A soft smile spread across my lips.
He’s asking about my day?
And I realized—I had so much to tell him.
So I picked up my quill and began to write. Before long, I finished, dropping the pen onto the desk with a soft clatter.
“Mary, take this.”
She had been waiting quietly by the door and came forward.
“You’ve already finished, my lady?” she asked, covering a small laugh.
“His Grace will feel a little sad.”
“Sad? Why?”
“Because last time, it took him so long to write his reply.”
I chuckled too, remembering. Of course it took him long—he had written with his left hand so I wouldn’t recognize it was him.
Without worrying about that, I handed the letter over.
“Send it the fastest way.”
Martin once told me even a single letter was precious to him.
If so, I had to send it quickly.
I smiled as I gave it to Mary. The Cloud seal glistened on her palm.
Later, Martin slumped onto the sofa in his hotel.
One knight, who had been following him the whole trip, lingered nervously, unsure if he should leave.
The hotel hadn’t felt much different from the Cloud estate before. But lately, Martin could feel the difference.
Home…
He was about to smile when the knight spoke.
“Is it because of earlier, my lord?”
Martin frowned. The memory came back.
He had been inspecting a mine owned by the Cloud family. Everything was reported safe and in order.
But just as he was leaving, a little boy had run in front of his carriage, crying.
[My brother still hasn’t come back!]
The boy’s brother didn’t even work in a Cloud-owned mine.
So why had the boy begged Martin for help?
Martin rubbed his forehead with a sigh.
Normally, he might have ignored it. But…
“It bothers me.”
“But my lord, this has nothing to do with the Cloud family.”
“That’s exactly what makes it strange.”
The knight tilted his head in confusion, but Martin didn’t stop.
The boy’s desperation had been real. That was what made the carriage halt.
Martin couldn’t simply pass him by.
It wasn’t just responsibility.
First, even when told everything was fine, Martin had felt something was off.
Second, he believed the boy must have had some reason for asking him in particular.
It was better to know the truth. Any hidden risk had to be eliminated.
“Investigate it properly. Find out what’s going on.”
“Yes, my lord.”
After giving the order, Martin dismissed the knight and crossed one leg over the other.
He thought of the Cloud seal he kept hidden at the estate.
It hadn’t always been hidden.
He remembered Gemma’s angry cry from the past—
[How could you do this to me?!]
Back then, she had been powerless. Even after marriage, she couldn’t escape the grip of the Harold family.
Or maybe… it wasn’t she who couldn’t escape.
Was it me?
Thinking of the Viscountess, Martin’s veins tightened in anger. He clenched and unclenched his fists.
But now, Gemma was different.
He no longer feared she might secretly use the Cloud seal behind his back.
Now, she would step forward herself to do things for the family—never plotting behind him.
Martin buried his face in his hands, organizing his thoughts. Then came a knock.
“A letter for you, my lord.”
It was the letter he had been waiting for—Gemma’s reply.
“Thank you. Leave it to me.”
He held it to his chest, took a deep breath, and opened it.
Her graceful handwriting filled the page.
*Next time, shall I go with you? It would be nice to get some fresh air.
My daily routine is following after Erica.
By the way, hasn’t her face been glowing more lately? It must be because of Aaron.
I wonder what you would have said if you’d seen her.
Oh, and poor Babel looks exhausted handling work in your place. Maybe you should give him some time off.
Come home soon, husband.*
“…All about other people.”
Martin had wanted to read about her.
He was a little disappointed.
Her first letter was filled with talk of Erica, Aaron, and Babel instead.
But still—he couldn’t help smiling.
Because it was her voice he heard so vividly in every line.
And at the very end, one word mattered most:
Come home soon, husband.
His eyes lingered there for a long time.
Tracing the word “husband” with his thumb, he whispered:
“I’ll just have to hear it in person.”
He imagined her lips, firmly speaking each word, and his face grew hot.
Martin pulled out the gift he had bought for her in advance and placed it on the table.
He glanced between the gift and the letter, his smile deepening.
Just moments ago, exhaustion had weighed him down.
But Gemma had a way of lifting it all away.
“…I miss you.”
He murmured, imagining her delighted face when she received his gift.
In truth, what he longed for most wasn’t her gratitude, nor her joy—
It was simply Gemma herself, without any conditions.
