Chapter 48……………………………………
Fate
Anje’s eyes widened when she saw that Mariana’s fate chart had darkened.
She had seen this before—
in subordinates sent on perilous missions during the war,
and in soldiers departing for the front lines.
Whenever that happened, Anje would reject the contract, no matter how much money was involved, even if it meant paying a penalty fee.
Even if one could read the heavens’ will, it wasn’t something one could defy. But if the dark omen in the chart came from some unexpected misfortune, then there might still be a way to avert it.
“Mariana, are you all right? If you’re going to visit Count Martin…”
Anje stopped mid-sentence.
Mariana’s fate chart darkened even further—
every time the name Count Martin was mentioned, its light dimmed, moment by moment.
“So I should go to him, right? It’s proper to keep my promise, isn’t it?”
“No, my lady. You don’t necessarily have to—”
Just as Anje was about to stop her from meeting him, a loud commotion echoed up the stairs. Josh came stumbling up, almost tripping in her haste.
“My lady! Something terrible has happened!”
“Good heavens, Josh! What kind of behavior is this? You’ll need to repeat your maid training.”
“My manners aren’t the issue right now! His Grace—His Grace has—”
She was so out of breath from running that she couldn’t finish her sentence.
“What has my brother done to the viscount?”
Before Josh could answer, another crash sounded from downstairs.
Mariana went pale and sprinted down the hall without waiting for a reply.
For someone who’d just scolded her maid about propriety, she grabbed her heavy skirts with one hand and ran full speed, her calves flashing into view.
Above her head, her fate chart—black as ink moments ago—was now returning to its usual golden glow.
“My lady, you’ll trip!”
Josh cried out in horror, watching her run.
“Josh, what’s going on? Did His Grace draw his sword?” Anje asked.
“No, not exactly—oh, heavens! My mind’s all over the place! When His Grace came back from his outing and saw the viscount, his expression turned terrifyingly grim. I came to fetch the young lady right away. It looked like something awful was about to happen! But I didn’t expect Lady Mariana to turn pale and bolt like that.”
Anje exhaled in relief, pressing a hand to her chest. It seemed Mariana wasn’t fated to die today after all.
“No, you did well. You might’ve just saved Lady Mariana’s life. But what’s all that noise downstairs?”
“I—saved her?” Josh blinked, puzzled, then brightened. “Ah! You mean that noise? I heard the servants are deep-cleaning the kitchen. This winter was quite cold, and since they burned so much firewood, the chimney got clogged. The chef’s been complaining nonstop! But that’s not the important part. You should really go down, my lady. His Grace didn’t draw his sword, but it looked like something was about to explode.”
“It’s fine. Nothing’s going to happen.”
Anje’s calm tone made Josh stomp her feet in frustration.
“You say that because you didn’t see His Grace’s face! He looked truly frightening!”
“I said it’ll be fine.”
Still perfectly composed, Anje started walking downstairs.
Downstairs, an odd standoff was unfolding.
“Mariana, come here.”
“No!”
Duke Syde’s voice was gentle, coaxing—but Mariana shook her head stubbornly, standing protectively in front of Viscount Algernon.
The servants, hiding around corners with curious eyes, were quietly dismissed by Anje’s subtle hand gesture. She then approached the duke.
“Lady Mariana, please serve the viscount some tea,” Anje said cheerfully, gesturing toward the sitting room.
Her manner was almost that of a mistress of the house. The duke’s brows furrowed in irritation at her impertinence.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Drawing close to him, Anje lowered her voice, smiling pleasantly as if nothing were amiss.
“No matter what you intend, Your Grace can’t lay a finger on the viscount, can you?”
“…”
“At the last banquet, you and the viscount spoke quite harshly—but even then, you were perfectly polite, and he spoke down to you. You threatened him, yes, but you never actually touched him. So we both know what that means, don’t we? The only people you cannot treat discourteously…” She smiled faintly. “…are royals.”
It all fit: the age matched the frail imperial prince—the emperor’s only legitimate son, who had been spared due to his poor health.
He simply didn’t resemble the emperor, and his youthful looks made it hard to tell his true age unless he said it himself.
While Anje held the duke’s attention, Mariana seized Algernon’s hand and hurried into the sitting room.
The duke twitched, about to follow—but Anje blocked his way again.
“That isn’t what matters right now.”
Someone whose life was already hanging by a thread wasn’t going to harm Mariana anyway.
The duke’s gaze, still fixed on the sitting room, shifted back to Anje.
“You don’t understand. My father’s dying wish was that we never get entangled with the imperial family again. You have no idea what kind of self-absorbed monsters they are.”
“I don’t know about that,” Anje replied lightly, “but I do know that the person threatening Lady Mariana’s safety right now isn’t him.”
“What?”
The duke’s face turned cold, his earlier fury sharpening into true anger.
Anje watched his shifting expression with interest, then turned toward the door.
“There’s no time. We have to deal with this while we still have the trail.”
Count Martin François studied his reflection in the carriage window and smirked.
The sky was bright and clear—the perfect day for travel. The temperature was mild, and the soft breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers.
“My lord, how much longer must we wait? The trip to Kenaz and back will take time, and it’s dangerous to be on these country roads after dark.”
“The longer we wait, the more I’ll pay! So stop nagging!”
The count snapped at the coachman and looked up the road toward Primrose Hill.
The gentle slope lined with elegant estates was like something out of a painting—
a stark contrast to the shabby inn he’d just left, with peeling paint and a broken gutter dangling from its roof.
He frowned, remembering the innkeeper’s wife’s sharp voice:
“If you don’t pay for your stay today, my lord, I’ll toss every fine garment of yours into the street!”
The nerve, he thought bitterly.
The innkeeper’s wife had none of her husband’s easygoing nature. Whenever she caught her naive husband drinking with the count, she’d glare daggers at him.
But in truth, it had been the husband who first introduced Count Martin to the gambling dens and cheap pleasure houses of the capital. From the count’s perspective, the woman’s resentment was deeply unfair.
Well—he wouldn’t have to see her face ever again after today.
He had no intention of dragging things out any longer. Unlike his original plan to gamble big with the money he’d received from Hildegarde, he now meant to disappear to some far-off place where no one knew him.
Hildegarde had sworn everything would be fine—but how could he trust that? Adopted or not, no one could harm a member of the Syde ducal house and expect to go unpunished.
“So what’s taking so long? What time do you call this!”
Even without the coachman’s prodding, the delay was starting to make the count uneasy. He scowled fiercely at the entrance to Primrose Hill.
Only the most distinguished nobles lived there—entry was restricted even to other aristocrats unless granted prior permission.
Of course, as a noble himself, he could have secured permission easily—but the fewer traces left behind, the better. So he waited, impatiently, by the roadside.
“Damn it!”
He kicked a stone in frustration, sending it rolling down the slope.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, my lord. You’ve been here quite a while, haven’t you?”
