Chapter 12

“Uncle Milles.”

He was my father’s cousin, a man notorious for causing all sorts of troubles—big and small—within the family.

Due to his relatively high standing within the clan, there were few who dared to confront him.

People had tolerated his misdeeds for one reason only: though he often stirred up financial trouble, he never caused problems involving people.

“I didn’t expect to see you here again. Haha, did the Lord Patriarch really send you all the way here despite your poor health?”

Running into him hadn’t been part of the plan.

What was he doing here, wearing those shoes polished to a shine?

I looked over Uncle Milles from head to toe, every inch of him gleaming.

“What’s become of this family, sending a child like you to the forefront? Tch, tch.”

Clicking his tongue disapprovingly, Milles came to stand in front of me.

Looking down at me, he flicked the edge of my parasol with his finger and spoke.

The way he smirked, it seemed he was mocking the parasol itself.

“It’s such a pleasure to run into my adorable niece like this. It makes me want to say so many things.”

“Please, go ahead.”

For a brief moment, Milles’s eyes turned cold.

Then he stepped closer and whispered in my ear.

“I don’t know how much you know, but if you bring up my affairs in front of the Lord Patriarch again, I’ll rip out your tongue.”

“Ah…”

It seemed he was still holding a grudge from the last time I exposed him.

Although, to be honest, that was barely the beginning of what I could have revealed.

“I’ll keep your words in mind.”

I responded calmly.

“Good. That’s how peace is kept within a family. Don’t be like Deborah—stay quiet and just get married off. If she had known her place, she wouldn’t have died like that.”

“You sound like you know something about my sister’s death.”

“As if I care about that wench’s death. Still, I do feel a bit relieved—as if a rotten tooth was finally pulled. Hahaha.”

“……”

This man clearly didn’t have the guts to kill me.

If he did, he wouldn’t be wasting his time with petty money games.

“They say a woman who stirs up trouble brings ruin to her family. Isn’t this the perfect example?”

And here it was again—that tiresome line I’d heard all too often.

Just how long are they going to cling to that narrative?

It’s been repeated for centuries and still hasn’t worn out.

“I’ll take that to heart as well.”

If this family is doomed by women stirring things up, then that’s a relief.

It means I’m free to stir up as much as I want.

“Well then, wander around a bit and head back. Don’t collapse on the street with that frail body of yours and bring shame to the family.”

Milles walked past me.

“Right… of course, I shall.”

Though I didn’t even reply, he strutted off as if he’d said something brilliant, lacking even a shred of basic manners.

He began pointing all around the mine, barking orders. To any outsider, he might’ve looked like the one in charge here.

After Milles finally disappeared from sight, the manager beside me glanced at me nervously and asked,

“A-Are you all right, my lady?”

“What business does my uncle have here anyway?”

“Ah… that is…”

The manager began explaining.

“Lately, there have been many rumors surrounding the mine. Especially coming from Mergen…”

Ever since Deborah’s death, Milles had been making frequent visits to the mine, building ties with various nobles.

Listening to it all, there wasn’t a dull moment.

* * *

The day after returning home from wrapping up business at the mine, I found myself swamped with work.

Though the mine was an issue in itself, what truly overwhelmed my schedule was the influx of negotiation drafts coordinated by the Imperial Palace.

Still, I had no intention of giving up the calm of my early morning.

“Tea should always be warm.”

I enjoyed the scent of the tea as I stood by the window.

The gentle aroma filled the room, and I let my eyes rest on the bright sunlight outside.

“The weather’s beautiful.”

The world outside sparkled almost too much.

My gaze fell on the wild grass covering the hills.

Since they had no choice but to endure the scorching sun, they must have been suffering too.

When I turned my eyes away from the harsh light, I spotted a familiar figure in the shadows.

‘Abel.’

Beneath the willow tree, in the deepest shadow, was my gravestone.

‘It really is unpleasant, having a grave visible from the mansion like this.’

Before I died, I thought being buried within view of the estate was a privilege reserved for those who bore the Mergen name—but now I realize that wasn’t the case.

Even in death, I remained tied to this family.

“How pitiful. How sad.”

His soft silver hair swayed in the breeze.

Aimlessly, endlessly.

“So dramatic.”

Why was Abel standing there like that?

As if he were the one most heartbroken in this entire house.

‘Were you the one who killed my sister?’

I still couldn’t forget the look in his eyes.

Maybe… maybe there was something I wanted to hear from him.

I shifted my gaze away from that shadow—the only pause in the blinding landscape of sunlight.

Keeping my eyes there any longer felt like intruding on someone’s secret.

“Karlin.”

And I had my own duties to get to.

* * *

“Thank you for coming all this way.”

Elliot welcomed me politely.

“It was just a few steps.”

A workspace had been prepared for me.

Compared to Deborah’s office, it was full of inconveniences—but it was a cozy room.

The kind of room Irene would’ve liked to have.

Irene, who probably never had any space to herself other than her tiny room, barely ten pyeong in size, in this whole mansion.

“These are the draft proposals from the Imperial Palace. Please review them and mark any items that require further adjustment. For parts that don’t need revisions, simply sign them.”

I nodded and took my seat at the desk.

“I should tie my hair…”

I had a habit of tying my hair before getting serious with work.

I was just about to say something, thinking nothing would be prepared—but then I noticed a hair ribbon placed on the side of the desk.

My eyes lingered on the neatly arranged ribbon before shifting to Elliot.

“I’ll assist you from here as well. If there’s anything you’re unsure about, feel free to ask.”

“…Alright.”

Was Elliot treating me the same way he treated Irene?

Or maybe he pitied me—thinking I was just some unfortunate soul caught up in hardship after death.

He always acted firm, but his heart was gentle.

“Let’s begin.”

Scratch, scratch.

After that, the only sound in the room was that of papers turning.

I flipped through documents, signed my name, and marked corrections in red ink.

It wasn’t difficult. It was simply a continuation of what I’d always done.

But Elliot’s frequent glances said otherwise.

‘You don’t trust me, do you?’

To him, it must have been strange—someone like Irene, who had never touched this kind of work before, now reviewing state-level proposals.

Maybe he even thought I was just playing around with red ink like a child with crayons.

So, I decided to put his worries to rest.

“Here. Could you check these documents I’ve finished?”

“Yes, of course.”

Whether it was excitement at having something to do or curiosity about how I’d handled it, Elliot rushed over and eagerly picked up the stack.

The room fell quiet again.

* * *

How many hours had passed?

What started as a moment of focus had consumed so much time that I lost all sense of it.

It felt like I’d just come out of battle.

The documents I’d torn through were soaked in red ink like spilled blood—so calling it a peaceful war would’ve been a lie.

“Have you finished everything?”

“Ah, probably… most of it.”

Though calling it ‘most’ felt dishonest, judging by the ragged state of the papers—they seemed to ask if I had any conscience left.

“It’s already well past lunchtime.”

“Ah…”

Well, I’d never been the type to stop for meals while working anyway, so it didn’t bother me much.

“If there are no more documents to review today, I’ll be heading off then.”

As I stood up, Elliot rose from his seat as well.

“I think that’s about it. Could you double-check for me?”

I pulled my shawl back up over my shoulder as I spoke to him.

“I’ll need to prepare fresh copies of some of these documents.”

“Is there a problem?”

I was confident I hadn’t been careless—so it felt odd.

As I expressed my confusion, Elliot brought over a stack of papers and laid them out on my desk.

Rustle.

With practiced fingers, he flipped quickly through the pages, holding the bottom corners of the documents.

I watched in silence.

“You signed the wrong name starting from the seventh document.”

“……”

Tap.

The signature on the opened page clearly read “Deborah.”

So habits really were hard to hide.

With my attention slightly distracted, my hand had instinctively written the name I was used to.

I tapped the name “Deborah” with my fingertip.

Silence hung between Elliot and me.

‘What can I even say to that?’

I sat back down in the chair I had just gotten up from.

I wasn’t sure what to do.

Should I tell the truth here? Or brush it off with a lie?

As I weighed my options, Elliot spoke first.

“You don’t need to explain.”

How exactly was he taking this situation?

“You must have a lot of questions.”

“When your thoughts are in order… you only need to tell me then.”

I must have underestimated Elliot.