Chapter 35
The two men who had stormed into the mansion were auditors sent by the Crown Prince, and they immediately seized Count Nova’s study.
Of course, this all happened before Count Nova had even opened his eyes—or before Illina had set foot inside the estate.
“What in the world…”
Dressed in a robe, Count Nova stared blankly at the chaos unfolding in what had been his private office. He wasn’t even allowed to enter the room.
“We are here under His Highness the Crown Prince’s command to audit the ledgers from Vester.”
One of the auditors addressed him directly, as a courtesy, before closing the door in his face—as if dismissing an unwanted guest.
“……”
Count Nova stood frozen, mouth agape, unable to utter a word. In that awkward silence, the sound of someone sobbing echoed from the first floor. Illina was wailing.
“You… what are you doing here?”
Rushing down the stairs, his eyes fell—unsurprisingly—on his daughter, Illina. His voice rose, sharp with tension.
“Father…”
Tears welled in Illina’s eyes as she looked at him.
“I asked you—what are you doing here now?”
Count Nova shouted. He was on edge. With the Crown Prince’s men unexpectedly occupying his study and Illina’s unannounced return, everything felt like it was spiraling out of control.
“I—I was… expelled.”
Illina stammered, shrinking back under his fury. Normally, she could manipulate him with tears, but not today—his anger was far more intense than she expected.
“Expelled? For what—what did you do?”
Count Nova’s voice lowered to a threatening murmur. To be expelled from the estate where she served as a lady-in-waiting was no small matter. There was no way it was for something trivial.
“There was an issue with the invitations, and the Grand Duchess kept picking at me about it…”
Illina grumbled, still feeling wronged.
“I went into the Grand Duke’s chamber, but Duke Rain was there…”
“What?”
“It was all a setup! The Grand Duke wanted to drive me out—he even planted the letters…”
“Letters?”
The moment she said it, Count Nova’s face turned deathly pale. He remembered exactly what was written in the letter he had sent to Illina at the Grand Duke’s estate.
“They found the letter?”
Grabbing her shoulders, he shook her. Illina, trembling, nodded slowly. Count Nova couldn’t even scream—he clutched his forehead in horror. Everything before him seemed to shatter into white noise.
“N-No. It’s fine. Everything will be fine.”
He forced himself to breathe, to stay calm. Discrepancies in the ledgers could be explained—it happened often. Human error. That alone wouldn’t be enough to incriminate him.
The most damning piece of evidence used for falsifying records was still hidden. There was no way the auditors, confined to his study, could find it.
His eyes flicked toward Sally, Illina’s maid. Illina herself was under guard—she couldn’t move. All immediate family members were being closely watched. But a servant… perhaps she could.
“Behind the bed’s headboard. Burn it.”
Count Nova practically whispered the order as he sat Sally beside Illina, almost ventriloquist-like in his delivery.
“I’m cold… my body feels feverish. Could you bring me a warm blanket?”
Illina rubbed her arms dramatically, giving a separate, audible command. The idea was to appeal to the soldiers’ sense of courtesy—let the trembling, distressed young lady’s maid fetch her a blanket.
“May I move? Just the maid, nothing more?”
Gone was her shrill defiance. Illina now wore a meek expression, like someone whose spirit had been crushed, seeking only permission with downcast eyes.
“You may.”
The guard replied curtly. Sally met Illina’s eyes, nodded once, and hurried up the central staircase.
She tried to act composed, but her limbs trembled with each stare that followed her.
“Found it.”
Inside Illina’s room, Sally moved quietly, rummaging behind the headboard. A brown document envelope peeked out from a small gap.
“What now…”
She had it in her hands—but now what? Standing with the envelope, she paced near the bed in frustration.
Illina had told her to burn it, but the fireplace was cold—it was summer. There weren’t even lit candles in the room. She couldn’t exactly wander to the kitchen with a blanket and then ask to use fire.
“…What should I do?”
Time was running out. Sally’s mind raced—until finally, a risky solution came to her.
“No one’s going to check under my skirts, right?”
She pressed the envelope to her thigh and secured it tightly with one of Illina’s cherished lace ribbons. The crinkling sound of the paper rustled as she moved, but the natural rustle of her dress would cover it.
Smoothing her skirts to hide any odd bulges, Sally took a deep breath and stepped out of the room.
“Was the room messy?”
Illina, seated on the sofa, reached out to Sally and asked casually.
“It wasn’t very tidy, so I cleaned up a bit.”
Sally replied with a strained smile, subtly tapping her right thigh twice. Illina’s face paled for a brief moment, but she quickly forced her expression to remain composed.
“Thank you.”
She had thought it safer for the item to be near the body rather than left behind in the room. It had seemed like the better choice at the time.
“We are court investigators. A formal complaint has been filed against Count Oliver Nova, and we are here to conduct an investigation.”
The court’s investigators had arrived at the estate, guarded by royal soldiers.
“A complaint?!”
Count Nova nearly collapsed as he shouted in disbelief.
“Charges of tax evasion, embezzlement, and abuse of proxy authority have been filed. We have full rights to investigate this estate and its staff.”
Clearly, hiding the evidence beneath a skirt had been the wrong choice. It didn’t take long for them to find that out.
“Your Grace, it’s Hugo.”
It was the man Eden had instructed to follow Illina when she left for Vester. At Eden’s signal, Ennon opened the door.
“As ordered, I delayed her arrival to Vester.”
“And the result?”
“She arrived after the Crown Prince’s auditors had already made it there.”
Hugo lowered his voice, reporting the outcome Eden had expected.
“We also recovered the evidence hidden under the maid’s skirt. Nothing that could overturn the situation remains.”
“If anything suspicious arises—”
“I’ll report it immediately.”
Eden gave a satisfied nod.
“You may go.”
At his command, Hugo promptly exited Eden’s office. Eden’s gaze returned to the documents he had been reviewing—a report Curtis had submitted to the investment bank for evaluation.
“Proceed as it is.”
Without delay, Eden signed off on the investment approval.
“I’d like it wrapped up as quickly as possible.”
The signed report slid across the edge of Eden’s long, slender fingers and into Ennon’s waiting hands.
“Why the rush, Your Grace? It’s not an urgent matter.”
Ennon asked, tidying the corners of the document neatly, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
“Because Cecilia wants it.”
It was something they had already discussed—and Eden was eager to move it forward, largely because Cecilia had looked forward to it. He liked when her gaze landed on him. It made him happy. And if her gaze held even a hint of joy, it would be all the more satisfying.
“She hoped it could be completed within a year. Let’s aim for that.”
“Shall I proceed with the arrangements involving Roy Dillon as planned?”
Eden nodded. That, too, was something he had prepared as a gift for Cecilia. Ennon understood and answered with a respectful nod.
“I’ll reach out to Roy Dillon first. His Majesty has already approved it.”
With a brief nod, Eden rose from his seat. Ennon looked at him, puzzled.
“Where are you going, Your Grace?”
“I thought it’d be good to tell Cecilia. She’ll be pleased.”
Eden pulled out his pocket watch, checking the time, and replied casually. His expression showed no wariness, no caution—as if speaking to someone completely familiar.
“You’re dismissed. Go rest.”
By then, Eden wasn’t paying Ennon any attention. He simply descended the stairs and approached the carriage waiting outside the building. The coachman, spotting him, hurried to open the door.
As Eden stepped into the carriage, he thought about how Cecilia might react when he delivered the news. Whether she showed joy or sadness, she would—as always—be elegant and beautiful. Yet even that thought stirred something in his chest, something subtly different than usual. A different rhythm. A different beat.
Now that he had admitted the truth to himself, only one fact remained.
He desired that beautiful woman.
Desired her enough to want to seize every hidden part of her—every secret, unspoken thought—and hold them tightly in his grasp.
“Your Grace, we’ve arrived at the estate.”
Even if his growing certainty in his feelings meant that, conversely, Cecilia’s own certainty was slowly fading…
