The next day, Denis and his family were expelled at once from Ruttgard Castle.
"How can this be! I am the Count’s own brother! And yet you treat family like this, just because I spoke a few words to some bastard girl with no blood ties?"
Denis raged, but Theodore spoke with a face so severe and cold it seemed not even the thinnest razor blade could slip through.
"I now understand why Father forbade you entry to the castle. You will receive precisely the portion of inheritance written in the will, so leave here without concern. And never return to this castle again."
"Theo!"
"If I allow such conduct from my uncle to pass, then how shall the Countess’s authority ever stand firm in the future?"
"What?"
Denis was startled at the words, but Theodore did not bother to persuade or explain further. Instead, he ordered the servants to load Denis’s luggage onto the carriage.
Though Denis resisted, in the end he obeyed Theodore’s command. Nephew or not, Theodore was now the Count. And beyond his station, there was a dignity in him not easily opposed.
Afterward, the castle grew quiet. The mourners who had no claim to inheritance departed one by one, and even those remaining fell silent under Theodore’s will.
Andrei, wearing an uneasy expression, asked him as if to confirm:
"You truly mean to marry Lady Peril?"
"I do."
"You hated the idea so much before…. Well, I suppose the fortune tied to that marriage is too great."
Andrei muttered this, nodding several times as if convincing himself. His father and the rest of House Nox would surely feel repulsed, but they would also understand Theodore’s choice—marriage for the sake of inheriting the house in full. Theodore could not be deprived of his rightful claim because of Pavel’s sins.
"But Lady Peril has not been seen yesterday or today."
Andrei murmured suddenly. He thought he had seen her only the day before, moving about tending to guests and castle affairs.
Theodore replied as though it were nothing, or as though he refused even to think of it.
"She must be in her chamber, weeping by now."
"She did not strike me as the sort who would."
So Andrei said. Olivia Peril had seemed steadfast, and perhaps even as though she did not mourn Pavel’s death so greatly. Of course, it was only because she had lived through this funeral too many times already—but Andrei could not know that.
Theodore believed she was avoiding him. He himself did not wish to face her just yet.
When Olivia had said she would not marry, he had answered, "Very well," but he had never truly meant to grant it. Unlike the others assumed, it was not for the sake of money.
She must take responsibility for tearing apart his resolve. If she had not first reached out her hand, he never would have stared his own desire full in the face. She herself had destroyed the chance to live as strangers.
Even without seeing her, he had been brooding over how to persuade her. But no convincing thought would come. When he had begun to consider whether threats would suffice, Marquis Ascensio came to see him.
"I intend to draft the papers annulling your marriage with Lady Olivia. Will you give consent?"
No sooner had they exchanged greetings and taken their seats than the Marquis spoke. Theodore blinked and echoed, blankly:
"Pardon?"
Without further explanation, Marquis Ascensio handed him a document Olivia had given. It was to confirm she had no intention of marrying Theodore.
"If you agree, I shall annul the marriage and settle the matter of remaining inheritance."
"I have given no such consent."
Theodore forced his voice to grow stiffer still, struggling to conceal emotion.
"I will speak with her again. She must be mistaken. I intend to marry her."
"Is that so? I rather thought you, of all people, would not wish this marriage."
"My mind has changed. At any rate, I will speak with Olivia once more. Wait until then."
So saying, Theodore rose at once—ready to go to Olivia.
But Marquis Ascensio gave him a strange look.
"Lady Olivia is not here. Did you not know?"
"What?"
This time Theodore stared in genuine shock. The Marquis, face troubled, explained:
"She left the castle the afternoon before last. Did she truly not tell you?"
"This is the first I have heard. Left, you say?"
Theodore could hardly believe it, but Marquis Ascensio nodded.
"Indeed. She said from now on all matters of inheritance would be handled through an attorney. With Pavel’s funeral ended, she said there was no reason to remain. I did not realize she had departed without informing you."
Theodore shook his head, dazed, unable to collect himself.
Left? Where could Olivia possibly have gone? This was her home. She had nowhere else to turn, no reason to leave.
No—that reason existed. He himself was here.
But he could not understand it. Had he treated her so harshly she would vanish without even a word of farewell? Or was it that she feared he would once again raise the matter of marriage, and so she fled?
Either way, Theodore felt a rush of rage so strong his vision blackened. If she loathed him so utterly, then why had she asked him for a kiss that night?
Was everything he had felt that night a delusion? Their mutual longing, that sense of fulfillment as though only when their bodies joined had they become complete—was it all false?
Seeing him reeling, Marquis Ascensio asked uneasily:
"Are you well? I thought the two of you had reached some accord."
"I have not consented."
Theodore ground the words between clenched teeth. Then he realized he had unconsciously curled his hands into fists, and flexed them open and shut several times.
At last, in a low, restrained voice, he said:
"What is tied to this marriage is the fortune of Ruttgard. I will not sign this document."
"Theodore, I understand your position, but when a lady refuses a proposal, a man has no choice but to accept."
"No. We have already spent the night together. I consider that our betrothal."
At this, Marquis Ascensio drew in a breath. Theodore spoke the truth. To break chastity before marriage was a grave stain upon either man or woman. That Olivia would do such a thing and then flee—he had never imagined it.
Theodore’s voice, soft but edged with menace, continued:
"A lady’s heart may refuse a proposal, but a betrothal cannot be annulled unilaterally. Do you know where Olivia is?"
"I do not, not at present. But when her attorney is appointed, I am promised word. I shall inform you then as well."
If she meant to hide utterly, that was one thing. But if Theodore had no intention of yielding, then naming it an engagement would be better for Olivia too. So the Marquis thought, and nodded.
It was then that the butler knocked three times upon the door.
"What is it?"
Theodore asked sharply. The butler entered cautiously and said:
"A messenger has come from the Imperial Court."
"From the Court?"
"Yes. Sir Helmut of House Schwaben."
Both Theodore and the Marquis gave a short, mirthless laugh. Not from the Imperial Court then, but from the Schwaben Ducal House.
"Receive him in the drawing room. I will come shortly."
Theodore gave the brief order.
Neither Ruttgard nor Ascensio held much closeness with Schwaben, but they could not offer insult either. Moreover, Helmut Schwaben was cousin to the present Duke, Ezekiel Schwaben, and thus a man of considerable power.
What matter had brought such a figure here? With a heavy heart, Theodore rose to go.