Chapter 13

“M-master, my lord.”

At Gabe’s words that followed, Ian could understand why this man hadn’t spoken until now. It wasn’t just because he was shy and wary—he hadn’t wanted to speak. Ian soon realized that Gabe had an important problem that would make him reveal a secret he’d wanted to hide while saving words as much as possible.

“O-our… ch-child’s news… I know it. P-please h-help.”

The envelope Gabe gave him had an unfamiliar name written on the outside. Taking out and unfolding the paper inside the envelope, Ian saw it was yellowed with age, not very good quality, and roughly written. Ian quickly read through the text.

To Butler Clayton and Mrs. Gauner of Raven Manor, and to Father

Please understand that I can’t tell you everything since I’m asking someone else to write this for me.

First, I’m truly sorry for disappearing so suddenly like that. As you’ve probably expected, I’m now with Sally. We’re expecting a child together, and we left the manor to build our own nest for just the two of us. I’m truly sorry for not telling you about this beforehand…

Please send Sally’s and my remaining wages to the address this letter came from.

And Father… I’m sorry…

Please be sure to send the wages.

I’m truly sorry.

-Stable hand Joseph-

The letter’s contents matched what Clayton had said in the sunroom before. Ian, who had skimmed through the text about two more times, turned his gaze toward Gabe, who was watching him with a very tense expression. The anxious eyes went straight to the floor when they met Ian’s, then came back.

It seemed the stable hand who had eloped with the nanny was Gabe’s son. Ian cleared his voice and asked:

“I heard before that wages were sent, but has there been no further contact since receiving this letter?”

Perhaps relieved that it wasn’t a dismissive or annoyed reaction, Gabe’s face relaxed slightly, though tension hadn’t completely disappeared as he carefully nodded.

“Have you asked Clayton or Mrs. Gauner about this?”

When Ian asked in puzzlement, thinking that if he’d asked for help, the two people responsible for managing the manor would have helped, the gentle black eyes that looked like those of the horses he tended wavered again.

“Th-the wages. They s-said they s-sent them, but th-there’s no c-contact… The b-born ch-child, is it s-safe. I’m s-sorry for b-bothering you, my l-lord…”

Gabe, who had been continuing his words like half the cargo spilling onto the roadway from a running freight cart, finally closed his mouth with a reddened face. Tension and urgency were making his speech even more clumsy.

Though Ian couldn’t know Gabe’s every move completely, from what he’d observed, the man lived an almost isolated life, staying with the horses he tended without particularly interacting with the manor staff.

‘It seems difficult for him to ask Clayton and Mrs. Gauner about his son’s matter… It’s certainly not easy to ask favors from one’s superiors.’

This large middle-aged man drooping his shoulders and speaking dejectedly was quite concerning. And if he needed someone to quietly ask around, there was someone who came to mind.

‘He did say he was good at finding people…’

When Ian fell silent, lost in thought for a moment, Gabe, thinking he’d caused trouble, bowed his head.

“Th-thank you for l-listening. J-just this m-much…”

Ian carefully asked Gabe:

“Would it be alright if I asked a lawyer to help?”

Perhaps not having expected Ian to actually help despite asking, Gabe quickly nodded with widened eyes.

“It’s f-fine. Th-thank you…”

“Everyone’s here, I see.”

A calm voice without inflection suddenly came from behind like a cold wind blowing in. It was Mrs. Gauner.

As Gabe flinched and stepped back at Mrs. Gauner’s appearance, Ian reflexively pushed the letter and envelope he was holding into his chest.

“It’s a bit early, but I brought a meal since you weren’t at home…”

Perhaps reading Ian’s puzzled expression, Mrs. Gauner, who had briefly bowed her head, continued. Looking at it now, the tray in her hands contained well-baked bread, beer in a wooden cup, and what looked like oat porridge in a bowl. She showed no signs of being unwelcoming.

Fixing her calm gaze on both men, Mrs. Gauner spoke in a slow, clear tone:

“I suppose you’re wondering why I brought this myself. Gabe is reluctant to enter the manor… He usually eats in his own hut. Some people don’t particularly like being with others. Isn’t that right?”

When her cool gaze reached Gabe, he flinched and shook his broad shoulders, then slowly nodded. Despite having a larger build than Mrs. Gauner, he hunched like a herbivore before a carnivore, narrowing his shoulders.

Ian didn’t find Gabe’s behavior particularly strange. Mrs. Gauner was someone whose distance was rarely shortened. Unlike Clayton, who helped like a parent with gentle words nearby, even standing a step back in silence, her presence was clearly felt.

When Gabe carefully approached and took the tray, Mrs. Gauner turned to Ian with both hands quietly folded.

“If you’ve finished your business, master, please come along. You’ve been staying at the stables too long lately.”

At Gauner’s words, Ian reflexively nodded and followed out of the stable while giving Gabe a meaningful look. While Gabe, who had been following behind, stopped to watch their retreating figures, the two walked slowly toward the manor with some distance between them.

Mrs. Gauner, who had been walking ahead, opened her mouth after getting somewhat away from the stable:

“How is the atmosphere in the north or the capital these days? Is it liberal?”

At Mrs. Gauner’s sudden words—she who rarely conversed—Ian awkwardly rubbed his chin with his hand. Having never been to the north and having stayed mostly around the academy in the capital, it was a difficult question to answer.

“Well, it doesn’t seem that much different from here…”

At his uncertain trailing off, Mrs. Gauner continued:

“This manor is almost isolated and has old-fashioned aspects. Though the previous master lay bedridden for a long time, he was someone born and raised in this manor, so the people working here were accustomed to him. But you, master…”

A cool breeze briefly passed between them. The real message came after a short silence:

“…You’re no longer a student but the master of this place, so it would be good to be careful about your behavior. There are eyes watching from society.”

At her words like a strict teacher giving a warning, Ian found himself making excuses without realizing it:

“I just wanted to move my body a bit. I’m not used to this kind of life…”

At those words, Mrs. Gauner stopped walking and turned around with composure. The moment Ian stopped with a start and they faced each other, a face whose age was difficult to determine—whether middle-aged or approaching elderly—was quietly observing Ian.

In that moment, Ian unconsciously held his breath at the intimidating presence felt from her not-so-large frame. Brown eyes that seemed to have lived a long, long life slowly looked at Ian’s chest where the envelope was hidden. It was as if she was examining not Ian’s visible physical body but another soul contained within.

The eyes that had been suffocatingly fixed straight ahead eventually slowly lowered. And Mrs. Gauner bowed her head all too easily.

“…You don’t need to say such things. Rather, I spoke inappropriately for my position, so please forgive me.”

“No, it’s fine…”

As if the strange feeling had been a mistake or dream, before the flustered Ian could say anything more, Mrs. Gauner straightened her back again and began walking slowly with her eyes lowered.

“If you want to move your body while spending time with the coachman at the stables, learning horseback riding would also be good.”

At her words in a bored, languid tone unlike before, Ian said he would do that while hurriedly following behind. He stretched his collar that brushed his neck with his fingertips, feeling drowsy for no reason.

The two disappeared through the black doors of the manor, passing through a garden with sculptures here and there that was too modest and quaint to belong to such a magnificent and weighty manor.

A few days later, as soon as Gale visited the manor after a while, Ian thought this was the time and presented the letter he’d hastily brought while telling Gale about the stable hand and nanny’s story.

“Just one letter as a clue.”

Though his tone was indifferent, Gale kept his gaze fixed on the letter envelope placed on the table as if interesting business had finally come up.

‘Looking at this, wouldn’t he be better suited as a detective than a lawyer?’

Though such a thought briefly occurred to him, looking at the burly muscles wrapped in fabric suggested yet another profession would suit him. Ian stopped his wandering thoughts and spoke pleadingly:

“It doesn’t need to be urgent, but please help.”

At those words, Gale seemed to fall into thought briefly, then soon picked up the letter, opened the bag he’d brought, and pushed it inside. Though the fairly large bag was stuffed full of documents, next to Gale it looked like a cute handbag.

Ian firmly suppressed the smile rising to his lips. Looking at such an Ian, Gale said without batting an eye:

“Since you ask like that, I’ll take it on.”

“I’m relieved to hear you say that. I have no one else to ask but you, Gale.”

At Ian’s words, Gale pushed up the small glasses on his nose with one blunt finger, wearing a strangely proud expression.

“I’ll charge you for all costs involved in finding the letter sender as is. Don’t praise me too much.”

And his giant hand reached for the teacup on the table. Watching the normal-sized teacup become cute again like a toy tea set, Ian brought his own teacup to his mouth to prevent the laughter trying to burst out.

Only after the fragrant tea aroma swirled in his mouth did he set the cup down on the table.

“And there’s someone else I need to contact… I know their approximate location, so you just need to send a letter.”

Ian placed an envelope containing a recently written letter that he’d kept nearby on the table. Gale looked at the letter envelope with curious eyes, then read the name written on it.

“Jason Brook.”

“Do you happen to know Jason?”

At Ian’s wide-eyed question, Gale calmly put the letter envelope in his document bag while speaking meaningfully:

“Rather than knowing Mr. Jason, it would be more accurate to say I know the Brook family.”

Ian made an expression showing he didn’t understand what that meant.