#127. Outsider (4)
Count Perelman, looking flustered, was offered a seat by Sasha.
“Please, have a seat.”
“Ah, yes.”
Awkwardly, Count Perelman sat down across from her.
Nervously stiff, he rolled his eyes, wondering why Sasha had summoned him.
If it had been Ivan or Yelena, her close wings, that would be one thing. But for Sasha to secretly call him at such a late hour… her intentions were a mystery.
Does she… really know about the plan?
As Perelman struggled with uneasy thoughts, Sasha spoke.
“If you stay on a sinking ship, you’ll only drown with it. And aren’t you someone Duke Titova doesn’t welcome? When danger comes, instead of saving you, your so-called allies will gladly step on you to survive.”
The words sounded sudden, but Perelman trembled when he realized the meaning hidden within them.
His pupils shook, and his breath grew heavy. Sasha’s smile deepened as she noticed his agitation.
“Rather than dying together, shouldn’t you at least grab onto a floating plank and wait to be rescued?”
“You mean… you’ll save me?”
He blurted the words desperately. Sasha gave a faint, mysterious smile.
“That depends on your actions. If you’re truly desperate, you’ll show it through what you do.”
Now Perelman understood what Sasha wanted.
She was urging him to betray Duke Titova.
And since she had called him so soon after his fallout with Titova, it meant she already knew much more detail than he expected.
So betraying now was clearly the smarter choice.
“But I…”
Even knowing this, Perelman couldn’t say it outright.
Damn it! If not for that cursed relic!
He remembered the vow he had sworn before Titova’s family heirloom, and the curse that would strike if he broke it.
Seeing his hesitation, Sasha gave quiet advice.
“Of all places, you know well what happens in the North to those who betray House Volkov.”
Of course he knew. Even a little study of history revealed how traitors met miserable ends.
And only a few years ago, he himself had witnessed the downfall of Count Tula.
“Weigh carefully what matters more to you.”
Perelman bowed his head in silence.
“You must decide quickly. I cannot wait long.”
He left her office with more turmoil in his heart than when he had entered.
But Sasha’s audience for the night did not end there.
The door to her office opened and closed several times, letting in people of different gender, age, and rank.
They all shared one thing in common:
If Duke Titova learned they had met Sasha, he would foam at the mouth and collapse in rage.
But none of it reached his ears.
The spies he had planted in Bellicordo Castle, around Sasha, and among her close aides had already been rooted out long ago.
So every report he received was false — and Titova would never know.
The Day of Reckoning
The day of decision dawned.
This time, I must succeed.
After repeated failures, Duke Titova had poured everything into this last chance.
He deliberately caused a disturbance in his southern territory near the central border.
When it was reported that only Grand Duke Volkov himself could resolve the matter, the acting head of house departed Bellicordo Castle two days ago with his aides and guards.
The journey alone would take at least a week, and calming the unrest would take half a month.
By then, Bellicordo Castle will already be mine.
All that remained was speed.
If he could turn public opinion today, he would march to Bellicordo Castle, seize it from within, and swiftly crush Sasha and her guards when they returned.
Even if the Black Wolf Knights were the North’s strongest force, most had already left for the war.
And with troops split toward the South, if he gathered all his allies’ forces, overpowering the Grand Duchess’s faction would be easy.
After that, he would quickly dispose of any resistance, lock Sasha away on fabricated charges, take over as acting head of house, and later, when the young Grand Duke returned from war, naturally keep that position for himself.
Good. As long as it goes to plan. The first step must be perfect.
He ran the scenario over and over in his head, then looked out from his third-floor window at the plaza.
A temporary stage had been built there just for today, in full view of the mansion.
It would be his stage, where he would play the hero.
The plaza was already packed with townsfolk, called in from neighboring lands as well. Their noise carried all the way to his mansion, but instead of irritation, it filled him with delight.
“Excellent. So many have gathered — the rumors will spread quickly.”
Turning from the window, he admired himself in the mirror.
“I look every bit the ruler!”
Satisfied with his carefully prepared appearance, he strode outside.
Everything was ready. The atmosphere had ripened as he desired.
The voices of the gathered people told him so.
“Why did everyone gather here today?”
“I’m not sure. But the village chief said the lord ordered it.”
“What for? Is there some event?”
“Not sure. But I heard we’d get something good if we came.”
“Something good? Is Titova going to throw us coins? Ha! As if that greedy duke would ever give us peasants anything!”
“Not coins — but something we really need. I think it’s food.”
“Food? For this many people?”
Confused murmurs spread until one of Titova’s planted agitators raised his voice.
“Why not? Didn’t our crops completely fail this year? And it’s not just our village — it’s everywhere!”
“What? Yours too?”
Everyone here shared the same problem: the Kartoff they had grown had suddenly rotted away.
Not knowing why made it worse — and now they realized it wasn’t only their village.
Faces grew grave.
“We spent all our time and money on Kartoff, but it rotted before harvest. When our stores run out, we’ll starve this winter.”
“Then why hasn’t the one who introduced Kartoff done anything? If this continues, we’ll all die!”
The agitator shifted the topic.
“Most of us didn’t even know Kartoff existed until a few years ago. But then Lady Volkov spread it everywhere. She must have expected problems like this — yet she’s done nothing!”
Others chimed in, raising suspicion.
“Maybe she had another reason for pushing it?”
“Another reason?”
“Yes! I heard she cornered the seed supply and sold it at high prices. She profited while we suffered!”
“What? Is that true?”
“Of course. And all that talk about its great nutrition — nothing but lies to sell it!”
“Now we can’t even buy wheat because she cut trade with southern merchants! If Kartoff fails, we have nothing!”
The agitators threw every rumor they could to stir anger toward Sasha.
But not everyone was convinced.
“Wait. Isn’t that a stretch? Why blame everything on her?”
“Yeah. Weren’t we praising her not long ago for making life better in the North?”
Many frowned, unwilling to accept the accusations.
Some began speaking out.
“She’s done so much for us. Let’s wait. I’m sure she’ll fix this too.”
“Yeah, don’t jump to conclusions.”
Public opinion began to soften again in Sasha’s favor.
No. We can’t let that happen.
The agitators, under Titova’s orders, grew harsher.
“You fools! You’re about to die, yet you still lick the boots of the highborn?”
“What?”
“Because of lapdogs like you, good farmers like us suffer!”
They twisted their own actions, blaming the crowd instead.
