Chapter 26
‘I did feel excited. No, actually, quite a lot.’
As I stepped down, holding hands while still wearing my hat, I suddenly felt a piercing gaze.
Behind Edmund, a man with a subtle expression stood.
As our eyes met over the brim of my hat swaying in the wind, the man smirked and gave a polite bow. He had long navy-blue hair and a beauty mark under his eye.
‘I feel like I’ve seen that face before.’
As I looked at him curiously, he quickly introduced himself.
“I’m Tale, Rail’s twin brother.”
“Oh, you’re Rail’s twin.”
“I’m the older one.”
“Right, twins.”
“I said, I’m the older one.”
Wow, he’s really obsessed with that.
“Alright, alright, you’re Rail’s older brother.”
Only then did Tale smile in satisfaction and step back.
Edmund, who had his hands behind his back, frowned at Tale disapprovingly before speaking.
“The Marchioness of Wickley has a request before you enter the villa.”
“What kind of request?”
“First, I will not be accompanying you. The Countess will enter alone. From the entrance of the villa, you must wear a blindfold and, when you meet, there must be a curtain between you.”
Edmund ran a hand through his hair and sighed as if exhausted.
“It looks like you had a hard time setting up the meeting.”
“She refuses face-to-face meetings, doesn’t want to communicate through devices, insists messages go through servants, can’t stand bright places, nor dark ones. This is the most difficult request I’ve ever handled.”
It was obvious that she had only agreed to this meal because she had no choice while staying in the Duke’s territory.
‘That makes sense.’
Since I had read the original story, I understood the eccentricities of the Marchioness of Wickley. So, I simply smiled.
Noticing my reaction, Edmund narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“I’ve heard of the Marchioness’s reputation, but she seems different from the rumors. Is she really someone who will help both you and your sister?”
“Of course. Oh, and thank you for arranging the meeting.”
I smiled brightly. If I could just hold onto her, she would become the best lifeline for both Lilien and me.
“Then, I’ll go check on the territory. There are too many minor issues that have been neglected.”
Edmund glanced somewhere. Near the vineyard, an elderly man with graying hair stood in front of a carriage.
The old man removed his fedora and nodded at me.
‘A vassal of the Mipedian Ducal family.’
Thinking it wouldn’t hurt to leave a good impression, I smiled warmly.
“I’ll see you later near the vineyard.”
“Understood.”
After watching Edmund leave with Tale, I followed the villa servant inside.
With his hands behind his back, Edmund walked through the vineyard, followed closely by Baron Montree, a vassal of the Mipedian Ducal family, who leaned on a cane.
“For nearly ten years, the people have been burdened with excessive taxes. Lowering the tax rate will help remove the negative perception of the lord and allow them to accept the new ruler without resistance.”
“Tsk, they really took advantage of the situation.”
Montree chuckled, rubbing his chin.
“You exiled all your relatives without leaving them a single ogrant, and yet, it seems you’re still not satisfied.”
Edmund stopped in his tracks, glaring at Baron Montree.
“Are you mocking me?”
“Of course not. I’m just glad you returned safely.”
Baron Montree smiled kindly and bowed his head.
“You’ve worked hard over the past ten years.”
He truly meant it. After the Duke and Duchess passed away, he, too, had lost his masters.
The young heir of the duchy was labeled insane, and he himself, scorned by foolish distant relatives, was confined to his room.
The mistreated vassals and suffering people of the land could finally find stability.
Edmund looked down at Baron Montree with a calm gaze before turning away. To him, the baron was one of the few people who had remained by his side—a rare, trustworthy man and a mature elder.
“I appreciate that you waited for me all these years, but don’t think about resting. I’ll be leaving all matters of the territory in your hands.”
This was his way of showing trust in the baron.
“Oh dear, you’re planning to overwork an old man.”
Baron Montree chuckled but soon erased his smile.
He had just remembered the lady he met earlier—Etricia Buell. Her red hair, flowing like the wind swallowing lush greenery, had left a strong impression.
“Are you in a special relationship with Countess Buell?”
Edmund nearly tripped over his own feet. He quickly grabbed a nearby grapevine to steady himself and turned to Montree with an expression of disbelief.
“What nonsense is that? Have you finally lost your mind?”
Despite Edmund’s sharp tone, Baron Montree simply smiled serenely.
“You’re at the age to consider marriage. I plan to ask Lady Lilien about it soon as well.”
“My sister and I don’t have the luxury of thinking about such things. Stop talking nonsense.”
“But you’re sheltering Countess Buell in your mansion.”
“She’s just my sister’s friend.”
Edmund didn’t feel the need to discuss anything uncertain about Etricia, so he frowned and brushed off the topic.
Baron Montree narrowed his eyes and adjusted his grip on his cane.
“Then find her another place to stay. So far, you’ve been lucky, but rumors could spread.”
“I’ll take care of it, so stay out of it.”
“How can I? It’s the duty of a vassal to find the Duke a suitable wife.”
Edmund clenched his teeth, shooting Montree a glare filled with hostility. The threatening aura should have been enough to make anyone shrink back, but the old baron remained unfazed.
He had dealt with all sorts of people over the years. More than that, he knew the young boy who once clung to his leg, begging for a piggyback ride.
“If you don’t want to hear an old man’s nagging, bring home a wife.”
If Edmund had spent years protecting his sister and stabilizing his position, then now, Montree wished for him to find happiness.
As the baron passed him, leaning on his cane, he paused and looked back with a sly glint in his eye.
Edmund’s frown deepened.
“I told you, we are not that kind of relationship…!”
“Well, no one can predict relationships between men and women.”
Chuckling mischievously, Baron Montree stroked his chin and walked ahead.
That wily old fox… Edmund’s ears turned red as he gripped a grapevine tightly, glaring at the baron’s back.
“The Marchioness is sensitive to even the smallest sounds. Please, be extra careful…”
Sigh.
I let out a sigh as I stood like a stone statue, listening to the maid’s fifteenth warning.
Lifting the edge of my blindfold with my fingertips, I gave the maid a sideways glance.
“Look, I think that’s enough. I’d like to meet the Marchioness of Wickley now.”
“Oh, I understand. I’ll guide you—but please make sure to keep the blindfold on.”
Startled, the maid adjusted my blindfold and placed my hand on her arm.
My vision went dark again, not even a sliver of light coming through. After a moment, I heard the creak of hinges.
I followed the maid silently.
Eventually, she helped me into a chair.
The strong scent of flowers and soil made it clear we were inside a greenhouse.
“Please wait a moment while I go bring the Marchioness of Wickley. Would you like some tea first?”
“That would be nice.”
Soon, I heard her footsteps moving toward the door, and the other maid who had come in with her placed the tea in front of me.
Smelling the faint scent of peppermint at the tip of my nose, I smiled slightly and spoke.
“Thank you for the tea, Marchioness of Wickley.”
Clink—
There was a soft noise, as if the person placing the tea was startled.
She was clearly flustered.
“May I take off the blindfold now?”
“…Go ahead.”
The reluctant answer made me slowly remove the blindfold.
I blinked as my eyes stung from the sudden light—and then I saw the Marchioness of Wickley standing beside me, surprised.
She looked to be in her early forties, with her hair tightly pulled up and her face covered below the eyes by a veil.
“Please have a seat, Marchioness of Wickley.”
As if she had never been caught off guard, she straightened her back and walked gracefully to the chair across from me.
Then the maid who had been waiting nearby approached me like she’d seen a ghost.
She placed the tea and sweets on the table with trembling hands, casting nervous glances, then quickly disappeared.
It was kind of funny.
In the silence that followed, the Marchioness of Wickley spoke first.
“How did you know?”
“I guessed.”
She frowned slightly, as if I was saying something ridiculous. She must’ve thought I was joking.
“But I really did guess. If I had to explain, I’d say it was the peppermint scent coming from your body.”
It was widely known in society that the Marchioness loved peppermint.
The Marchioness of Wickley briefly furrowed her brow, then relaxed.
“Good instinct.”
“Thank you for the compliment.”
She let out a languid sigh and sipped her tea beneath the veil.
She looked tired.
“Forgive me. I only did it because I wanted to know what kind of person the reclusive Countess of Buell really is.”
Her condescending tone was a bit irritating, but I could understand her.
It was a kind of test.
The way someone treats their subordinates is one of the quickest and clearest ways to understand their character.
Before I came to the duchy, I had done some research, and I’d heard rumors that the Marchioness of Wickley valued her people deeply—so much that she was said to be overly protective of them.
Since nobles often hide their true selves behind polite behavior, she must’ve found another clear method to judge me.
‘Since I wasn’t kicked out, I guess I passed the test.’
