Chapter 7
A faint commotion came from downstairs.
Ines guessed her husband had returned from work and rose from her seat.
When did it get so late…?
After meeting Reyven, she had been back at the mansion, lost in thought, trying to plan her next steps. Time had slipped away faster than she realized.
She folded up the large sheet of paper she had been scribbling on and tucked it into her desk drawer. Then, hurrying, she left her room and went down the stairs.
“You’re home?”
Kallion was handing his coat to Stanley. Without replying, he started walking off.
Ines wasn’t surprised. She hadn’t expected a response anyway, and she quickly followed him.
“Your Grace, should I have dinner prepared for you right away?”
“Yes.”
“And Madam…?”
Stanley, walking ahead with Kallion, turned to ask.
Only then did Ines realize she hadn’t eaten yet either. She opened her lips blankly.
“Ah, I should eat too.”
Her reply made it clear that Kallion let out a very audible sigh in front of her.
Really? He has to make it so obvious how much he dislikes me?
Feeling awkward, Ines glanced at his back, then quickly told Stanley,
“I’m fine. I’m not really hungry, so I’ll skip dinner tonight.”
“As you wish, Madam—”
“Prepare hers as well.”
Kallion cut Stanley off.
“I really don’t need—”
“Just sit across from me, at least.”
Hearing his low, heavy tone, Ines nodded reluctantly. If she argued, he might get angry like he had the other day.
That day… it was worse than usual.
Her mind went back to the time Reyven had visited the mansion. Kallion was always cold, sharp with his words, but that was the first time he’d shown such anger.
Could it be connected to the murders? Maybe he’s starting to reveal his true nature…
That thought pressed down on her shoulders, a heavy weight of dread.
“What are you doing?”
“Kyaa!”
Lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed Kallion turn to face her. His sudden voice made her jump and cry out.
He looked down at her, exhaling as if he couldn’t believe it.
“Was my request so unreasonable? I didn’t know you hated it enough to scream.”
“N-no, I was just… distracted.”
She felt all the servants’ eyes on her. Embarrassment burned her cheeks red. She bowed her head and mumbled,
“Sorry… I was being silly.”
Kallion’s voice was quiet but firm.
“Even if you dislike me, endure it for a little while. I have something to discuss with you.”
“I don’t dislike you.”
For a moment, he studied her in silence. Then he turned and entered the dining hall.
Ines let out a long sigh before following.
“The Imperial ball?”
“Yes. The princess insisted that all guests bring a partner. She’s likely excited about her engagement.”
Kallion spoke casually of the princess, a distant cousin.
Ah… so the palace ball is around this time.
Ines remembered the lively princess—always cheerful, always glowing. She had wanted to show off her fiancé to everyone and created such an event for that very reason.
“When is it exactly?”
She asked without much thought. But Kallion didn’t answer.
Pushing vegetables idly around her plate, she finally looked up. He was staring straight at her.
“If you eat that, I’ll tell you.”
“…What?”
“That poor vegetable you’ve been poking for minutes. Put it in your mouth, and I’ll answer.”
Ines blinked. Was that… a joke?
She just sat there, dumbfounded, and Calian’s brows furrowed.
“If you’re not planning to demand a new dress, then eat it. You’ve lost so much weight the ones you already have must be too loose.”
“That’s not it!”
Ines quickly stabbed her fork into the lettuce and stuffed it into her mouth. She had no intention of asking for new dresses. He had already filled an entire room with gowns for her.
“Two weekends from now.”
“Should I prepare anything? Maybe a gift for the princess?”
Again, no answer.
Looking up, she saw him gesture at her plate.
Not again…
Sighing inwardly, she slowly speared a tomato and forced it into her mouth. Only after she swallowed did he speak.
“I’ll handle it. Don’t worry.”
“Then when will we receive the formal invitation—”
She cut herself off mid-sentence, lifted her spoon, and dutifully took a bite of pumpkin soup. After wiping her lips with a napkin, she asked again.
“When will the invitation arrive?”
“The day after tomorrow.”
“I see.”
Ines nodded, mentally organizing the tasks ahead. Nothing major: respond to the invitation, choose her and Calian’s attire. Still, every duty as the Duchess of Elmenhardt weighed heavily.
After all, people are always judging me…
Coming from a lowly count’s family, she had to do everything twice as perfectly just to be seen as equal to others.
“No more questions?”
“…Sorry?”
She looked up. Kallion was resting his chin in his hand, staring across the table at her.
“I asked if you have anything else you’re curious about.”
“I don’t think so…”
“Then finish your meal.”
Does it really work like that…?
Flustered, Ines kept moving her fork, pushing food into her mouth. With him watching intently, she couldn’t stop halfway.
For the first time in ages, she finished her dinner feeling full.
Two nights before the imperial ball.
Reyven had come by since then, but there wasn’t much progress.
No one seems to know anything about the case. Since the victim had no family, the police hardly investigated at all.
According to Reyven, the victim was an old man in his seventies, wandering the slums without a home.
Cause of death—unknown. Not even clear whether it was a stabbing, poison, or something else.
The police just assumed he ate spoiled food or caught an infection from filthy living conditions. They closed the case like that.
That was all.
She hadn’t expected Reyven, who wasn’t a detective, to uncover some grand clue—but still, the lack of anything frustrated her.
It feels wrong, letting the first murder slip by with no leads at all.
Worse, she couldn’t clearly remember when or how the second killing had happened.
It wasn’t until the third or fourth that the police and newspapers began treating it as a serious string of murders.
Ines sighed softly.
“Madam, the gown from Lady Harrington’s dress shop has arrived from alterations. Would you like to check it now?”
Stanley’s voice broke her thoughts. She turned to him.
“It came later than expected.”
“Lady Harrington sends her apologies. The sudden imperial ball caused a flood of orders.”
Ines rose from her seat.
“Shall we take it to the Duke?”
“Shall I? I’ll have the servants bring it up to his study.”
She knew Kallion had no engagements that evening—he should be in his study. Surely he could spare a moment to look at the gown with her.
After sending Stanley off, Ines headed down the corridor toward her husband’s study.
Just then, someone stepped out of the study in a hurry.
She thought nothing of it. Many people came and went from Kallion’s office, most she never even knew. He worked with countless people, and she couldn’t greet them all.
The man bowed politely to her. Ines returned the courtesy without thinking.
He strode past her quickly.
And then—a smell hit her nose.
Ines froze, turning her head slowly. She watched his back as he rushed down the stairs.
“….”
It was a thick, sharp, metallic smell.
The faint stench of blood.
