Bang!
The door slammed, and Olivia was left alone.
Her throat burned fiercely. Did I handle it well? Did I look composed?
Please, let it be so.
What happened yesterday must remain just a one-night dream; now she had to act rationally.
To become Theodore’s wife. Strangely, the words felt unreal. She had never once imagined he would want her.
Even with the dull ache lingering in her thighs, the night felt like a dream. Feeling as if the sensation of his kiss still rested on her lips, she absentmindedly traced them with her fingers.
“Our marriage.”
Theodore had said it as if it were only natural.
But for Olivia, it could never be something natural. She had to leave. If he were to be dragged in and die again this time, she felt she could no longer endure it.
Tears kept threatening, so she bowed her head in silence for a moment and finally wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. She wished there were a mirror.
Certain her throat showed no strain and no wetness clung to her lashes, she opened the door—and there stood Marquis Ascensio and old butler Henry, looking uncomfortable. Anxiety prickled—what if they realized she had been crying?
“Are you all right? Theodore didn’t say anything harsh to you, did he?”
Marquis Ascensio asked. Henry’s face was worried as well.
Olivia forced a serene smile.
“No. Do I look that tired?”
“My lady…”
Though Marquis Ascensio was present and it was improper, Henry spoke up. Olivia gave him a small shake of her head to say she was fine, and said evenly,
“More than that, there’s something I wish to ask, my lord.”
“Yes. Say anything.”
“When can I receive my share of the estate?”
If possible, it would be best if people said a greedy woman had bewitched the sick and muddle-headed Count of Ruttgard and stolen his wealth. Even in failure, Ruttgard must not be implicated.
She was sorry for those who would be caught up in the path she intended to take, but her heart was set.
At her question, Marquis Ascensio could not hide his surprise. He asked back,
“So you’ve decided not to marry Theodore?”
“…Yes. Becoming Countess of Ruttgard isn’t bad, but it’s not the same as having funds in my own hands to use directly.”
She hoped she looked sufficiently brazen. Perhaps it worked—Marquis Ascensio’s expression worsened a little.
Even so, he answered readily.
“If Theodore agrees as well, it shouldn’t take very long.”
“His consent is required? Even if the woman does not wish to marry?”
“Ordinarily, a refused proposal is the end of it, but it seems Pavel never considered you might refuse. He noted the clauses for Theodore’s refusal, but not yours. So a preliminary settlement will be needed.”
“I understand.”
Olivia replied with composure.
“I intend to appoint a lawyer and an estate manager. I’ll inform you when I’ve decided.”
“Very well.”
Again, Marquis Ascensio looked surprised. That she would need a lawyer and a manager after acquiring such a fortune was obvious; what startled him was that, with the funeral only yesterday, Olivia was already handling such practical matters.
He felt both a sense that she would be fine and a small regret on Pavel’s behalf. It seemed there was no need to worry further.
***
Olivia parted from Marquis Ascensio and returned to the west tower.
The bed sheets had already been changed, the room aired; no trace of the night remained. Feeling a strange pang of regret, she sat for a moment on the bed, her body weary.
Knock, knock.
A knock sounded. She sighed, thinking there would be no time to rest, and Mary peeped in.
“My lady, are you all right?”
Having tidied the room, she had lingered in the west tower, worried for Olivia.
“What did the young master say? We’ll have to set the wedding date a full six months out, won’t we? Even if it’s because of the will, having a wedding right after the funeral wouldn’t look proper, would it?”
“We’re not marrying.”
At Olivia’s words, Mary gaped for a moment, then cried out. She knew it was improper toward her mistress, but she could not hold back.
“No! How could the young master do that?! After how he treated you last night!”
“Mary.”
“But it’s true! On the very day of the master’s funeral, to take his pleasure and then act as if nothing happened—what is my lady supposed to do…!”
“I refused.”
“Pardon?”
Mary exclaimed, startled.
“Why?”
“Mary, this is my affair.”
“My lady loves Ruttgard. Who could be more fitting to be Countess of Ruttgard than you? That is why the master left such a will…”
“Mary.”
At last Olivia’s voice carried reproof. Only then did Mary realize she was being presumptuous for a maid and quickly shut her mouth, bowing her head.
“I’m sorry. It’s just… it felt too unfair…”
“No. I know you say it because you worry for me. But I don’t want to feel burdened by such things. What happened last night was a mistake—on both sides.”
“My lady…”
Perhaps she had failed to feign calm; Mary looked at her with pity. Meeting her gaze, Olivia spoke evenly,
“I’m going to leave Ruttgard.”
“Ma’am?”
“You know, don’t you? With the Count gone, what would I do by staying here? They say I’ll inherit a fair sum—so I intend to go to the capital and live in luxury.”
“My lady…”
Mary hesitated, then suddenly broke into a bright smile.
“Of course. That’s good, too. Why stay in this family when every relative is dreadful? You’ve nursed the master for years—you should rest well now and do lots of things that bring you joy.”
Knowing she said it for her sake, Olivia only smiled. Then, after a brief hesitation, she asked,
“On that note—will you come with me?”
Mary’s eyes went round. Olivia continued,
“There will be many things unlike what you imagine. Even so, I’ll pay you far more than here. I’m rich now.”
She knew she was drawing Mary into danger. But she needed someone she could trust—and above all, to keep last night a secret, she needed to take Mary with her.
Unaware of any such thoughts, Mary spoke in delighted surprise,
“If I don’t follow my lady, who would? Don’t worry! I’ve decided to serve you until you’re a ho-ho grandmother!”
“Thank you.”
Olivia smiled gently.
“Now, help me pack.”
“Ma’am?”
“I’m leaving early tomorrow morning. Ah, I don’t mean you have to come at once. Just help me pack, then go home for now—you should say your farewells and put your things in order. I’ll explain the situation to the butler.”
Mary looked blank. While she went to fetch a traveling trunk, Olivia, as if she had prepared long ago, calmly wrote several letters: first to those she would hire as lawyer and estate manager; then one for Mary, noting when and where to meet; and another to someone in a place she meant to go, announcing her visit in advance.
If possible, the sooner she left, the better. This was not running away from Theodore.
On the third day from the funeral, an envoy from the imperial house would arrive. In name, to discuss Theodore’s investiture; yet there was a reason they had sent condolences already and then another person a few days later.
With the will made public, even Schwaben would have learned that Count Pavel Ruttgard’s foster daughter was not the bastard born between him and Peril.
In short, this would be Schwaben’s first move, born of suspicion regarding the existence of Princess Olivia.