Chapter 64
After spending a busy day, Anne held the neatly organized ledgers and marched briskly toward Hannibal’s office.
“Head Maid.”
Even before she could open the door, Jack, the attendant, was standing at the entrance.
“His Lordship isn’t in right now. I’ll let him know you came, so please report tomorrow instead.”
“When will he return? This is an important report, so I’ll wait.”
Even if it meant staying up all night, she had to meet him and deliver the matter directly. Jack scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
“Well… you know His Lordship’s mood hasn’t been very good lately.”
“Ah, I heard he argued with the Count again over dinner today?”
Since the day the guests had been dismissed from the annex, Count Arthur had remained in his chambers at the main residence.
Because of this, every mealtime became a clash between the two men, causing no end of stress for the servants.
“That’s right. It seems this will continue for a while. The Count said he intends to stay in the main residence permanently.”
At Jack’s sigh, Anne tried to comfort him.
“That must be exhausting. You’re working very hard.”
“Yes, especially today. The Count mentioned bringing in a prospective bride, which made His Lordship’s temper even worse. So he went off alone to cool his head.”
“Even so, His Lordship went off without a guard? He didn’t go far, did he?”
Anne asked anxiously, waiting for Jack’s reply.
“No. He usually just strolls around within the castle grounds. Since the Count is in the main residence, His Lordship is probably resting at one of the annexes. In any case, he won’t be gone too long, so don’t worry.”
“That’s a relief.”
So that was where he had gone last time, too. Anne remembered the day she had met Hannibal at the annex.
“In that case, I’ll show him the ledger tomorrow.”
“Please do.”
Bidding Jack farewell, Anne turned back.
There were three annexes within the lord’s castle, but the only one large enough to have its own walking path was the very place where she had once met Hannibal.
She had told the gardeners to re-landscape the overgrown backyard but had yet to check the results herself. That could be her excuse to stop by.
With that thought, Anne moved quickly.
After chewing over his father’s marriage proposal during dinner, Hannibal was now strolling alone through the gardens of the annex.
Last time, the overgrowth had been so thick it was nearly pitch-black. Now, the gardens welcomed him, neatly arranged with flowering trees.
“It’s completely different.”
They had apparently changed gardeners, and the difference from before was remarkable. Hannibal was satisfied.
Ever since Anne Perot had become head maid, the entire estate had been tidied and managed in a way unlike before.
The results always exceeded expectations, and Hannibal smiled to himself, thinking of her.
“I should give her a bonus.”
To the gardener, and to Anne Perot as well.
Muttering to himself, Hannibal walked along the path, passing the bench where he had once sat across from Anne.
By now, she would probably be coming to his office with the ledgers. Hannibal grew lost in thought.
“Don’t marry some backwater girl from the West. Take a woman from the capital! This much, at least, you must obey your father’s will.”
Those were the words he heard endlessly whenever he faced his father. Hannibal furrowed his brows, then lifted his head to the sky.
“So any woman from the capital will do?”
In the black night sky, Anne Perot’s face floated into his mind.
She, too, was from Idith Tara. Even as a maid, she was far superior to most noble ladies.
Capable, and a true help to him and Tegenes—perhaps it would be better if—
“Eh?”
At that moment, a rustling sound came from behind him.
“My Lord!”
It was Anne Perot.
“Anne?”
“Yes. You weren’t in your office, so you were out walking?”
“That’s right. Were you looking for me?”
“To show you the ledger. I also came to check the landscaping of the annex gardens, but I didn’t expect to find you here.”
Of course she had come looking for him, but she pretended it was coincidence.
“It’s better to inspect the gardens in daylight.”
“Ah, yes. I know.”
Anne coughed awkwardly, her conscience pricking her. Hannibal glanced at her, then turned his eyes back toward the sky.
For some reason, the stars seemed to sparkle brighter than before.
“The truth is, I was searching for you because there’s something important I must tell you.”
Even though she had already checked the surroundings on her way here, Anne looked around once more before cautiously speaking.
“What is it?”
Hannibal turned back toward her.
Though she had seemed far away, she was suddenly standing much closer.
“I want to go to the Witch’s Forest with the young lady.”
“What?”
Hannibal was taken aback. Anne quickly continued.
“The witch said it, didn’t she? That your contract could be fulfilled with the blood of a Clade.”
“Yes, which is why I kept Victoria from going there.”
“But something has happened to the young lady. That’s why I must go with her and offer prayers.”
“What happened?”
At his question, Anne lowered her voice and answered only with the shape of her lips.
Just two words.
Hannibal’s face twisted in shock, then erupted with fury.
“I’ll kill Dello Sandor. First, I’ll have his life as payment! How dare he deceive a Clade!”
“That isn’t what matters. My Lord, it’s the young lady who matters.”
What mattered most was Victoria Clade’s will and choice. Who else had the right or qualification?
It was her body, her heart—it depended solely on her.
Hannibal clenched his teeth, staring at Anne for a long while. His mind was tangled and conflicted.
“What condition is Victoria in now?”
“She hasn’t eaten well these past days, but today she ate a little. For now, she doesn’t seem to have any serious health issues.”
Fortunately, unlike Victoria’s own fears, Hannibal responded just as Anne had hoped.
Instead of blindly blaming or cornering her, he sided with his sister and declared Sandor an enemy.
That eased Anne’s heart somewhat.
“…You’re right. What matters is Victoria.”
“That’s why I want to go to the Witch’s Forest and negotiate directly with the witch.”
“You mean in place of my father?”
Hannibal quickly caught her meaning.
Indeed—if they used the witch’s power, they could resolve this safely, secretly, without anyone knowing.
“The price of your wish was Clade blood anyway, so it’s not wrong.”
Anne remembered the witch’s words.
“The price of the wish is the blood of a Clade.”
Hannibal nodded. “True enough.”
“But the witch expects Father’s greeting. That was part of the promise.”
“She never said it had to be the Count specifically. There’s room for negotiation. And even if the witch has other wishes, she can receive a different price later. After all, I’m not even a direct party to the contract.”
Hannibal looked at her—full of determination, her face glowing with resolve.
Her confident smile, shining under the moonlight, made her seem especially beautiful.
Why does she keep looking more and more beautiful?
Awkwardly, Hannibal raised a hand to brush at his collar.
“There are bugs at night.”
Anne swung her arms around him, shooing the air as if to drive insects away.
When Hannibal stepped back suddenly, her hand missed its mark.
She lost her balance and stumbled forward.
“Ahhh—!”
“Anne Perot!”
Hannibal quickly pulled her toward him, catching her in his arms.
Thump.
Anne buried her face against his broad chest, leaning into him.
“….”
“….”
She had fallen; he held her close. For a moment, silence lingered between them.
“I—I’m so sorry!”
Snapping back to her senses, Anne scrambled to pull away. But though her body moved quickly, one of his arms still held her tightly.
“My Lord?”
“Ah. Yes.”
At last, his grip loosened. Hannibal slowly curled his hand into a fist, rubbing his palm as if to erase the lingering warmth.
“Ahem. So you’re saying you want to go with Victoria to the Witch’s Forest alone?”
“Yes. Last time, the young lady wanted to attend the Witch’s Night but couldn’t. With everything that’s happened with Young Master Sandor, if she goes this time to pray for peace of mind and for the West, the reason is more than sufficient.”
“You’ve already thought the whole plan through. Do you think I’ll approve it?”
When Hannibal asked, Anne replied anxiously:
“My Lord, the young lady is filled with guilt right now. You must help her.”
“…It’s dangerous for the two of you to go alone.”
In truth, Hannibal wanted to escort them personally.
But in the current situation—walking a tightrope between Luto and Haiman to avoid war—if he left his post, who knew what Count Arthur might do.
“I can’t leave the castle right now. Take Oliver with you.”
Thus he entrusted them to his most reliable friend.
“You can trust Oliver. He’ll act for the Clades no matter what. Victoria will feel secure with him there.”
Oliver Gattens, the knight commander who had succeeded his father, was Hannibal’s comrade and right hand.
The fact that he was assigning someone so important as a guard moved Anne deeply.
“Thank you, my Lord. Truly. Lady Victoria will be delighted as well.”
Only then did Hannibal notice the moisture in Anne’s eyes. She must have been terribly worried.
“And what would you have done if I hadn’t given permission?”
Ordinarily, he might have forced marriage upon her. But he would never bind his sister to scum like Sandor.
Even if she had borne half a dozen children, he would have torn them apart if necessary. Hannibal’s will was firm.
“I believed in you, my Lord. That you would always put your sister’s happiness above all else.”
Anne’s radiant smile bloomed with joy.
Hannibal stared at her blankly.
The night air felt intoxicatingly sweet, and the starlight seemed to shine on her alone.
Before he realized it, his hand rose to her cheek. Her face was small enough to fit in his palm. Her shoulders looked as though both could be encircled by his hands.
She was so small. When she had fallen into his arms earlier, she had felt so light.
“…My Lord.”
Anne’s lips trembled as she whispered his name.
