Chapter 9
Ash’s gaze returned to normal after a moment, but he had already noticed the tiny flicker of emotion.
Yes… this won’t be an easy case. Too many secrets. Too many twisted parts.
And strangely… that made it fun.
If his coworkers at the police station heard him say that, they would faint.
But to Ash, this case was genuinely interesting—so much that he had even stopped having nightmares about the battlefield.
***
“Ash visited today.”
Melinda Browe gently sipped her warm night tea as she spoke to her husband.
As the longtime lady of the grand Browe estate, she carried herself with flawless elegance.
“Ash? Ash McCallen?”
“Yes. That bastard child.”
“Tsk.”
At the word bastard, the Earl of Browe wrinkled his nose as if he smelled something dirty.
“So he must’ve met Rosalyn.”
“Of course. I feel terrible. Bring trash into the house, and more trash will follow.”
“I feel the same. I wish we could get rid of her quickly.”
He sat down a little apart from his wife and lit a cigar.
While the tip of the cigar glowed and the tobacco burned evenly, the couple fell silent.
But after more than forty years together, they didn’t need words to understand each other’s thoughts.
“Viscount Trabe and Baron Dion’s families are more aggressive, but… I still think the Gottfried family is best for her.”
“I agree. Lord Gottfried’s paper industry has a bright future. And he’s close with the leaders of the Citizen Council.”
“I don’t like nobles mingling with commoners, but if that’s the trend, we should pretend to follow it.”
Melinda sighed and took another sip of tea.
The era when nobles could live extravagantly without working was over.
Extra taxes couldn’t be demanded anymore.
Money and influence had become the most important markers of power.
And the change had come from the rising wealth and education of commoners.
They were no longer fertilizer for noble luxuries.
“We can’t help it. The Citizen Council grows stronger every year. We need connections in advance.”
“Those poor fools. They think Lord Gottfried is their friend. They don’t know he’s only doing this to get a title for his son.”
“They know. If anyone offered them a title, they’d run for it.”
Both husband and wife understood well—humans will always try to grab even the smallest bit of power.
Marriage politics and selling prestige were normal business to them.
It didn’t matter that the “goods” being sold were not even their own child.
And honestly, compared to other nobles, the Browes were considerate.
They chose a solid, respectable young man for Rosalyn, not some decrepit old pervert.
“By the way, the second son of the Gottfried family… Arthur, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. Arthur Gottfried. A handsome, friendly young man.”
“That match is far too good for Rosalyn. Without us, she’d never even get a chance at him.”
“Really, that fire was a blessing for her.”
The Earl shrugged, flicking ash from his cigar.
Then Melinda suddenly remembered something.
“Oh! Rosalyn said she’d visit the territory. I told her she should, since there must be things to take care of there.”
“Well, she has no choice now. She’s the only one left to manage Thesis matters. But she must come back before the summer social season begins.”
“She said it won’t take long. Surprisingly, the girl is polite and quick to notice things.”
To them, Rosalyn’s trip to the territory was nothing more than a minor detail—barely worth attention.
They went back to enjoying their tea and cigar, ending the evening peacefully.
Of course, Rosalyn herself had no idea her marriage match had already been arranged.
***
The Thesis Estate
The Thesis manor used to wake each morning to the busy movements of its maids.
But since two days ago, the house remained quiet even after sunrise.
“Haa…”
Glen, the longtime butler, started his morning with a sigh—as usual.
At this rate, the Thesis family will collapse before I retire.
He had done everything to keep the house from falling apart, handling every problem, facing every crisis.
But even he was reaching his limit.
The Merchant Alliance—who should’ve been paying the most taxes—kept making excuses about bandits and delayed payments.
Now they even asked to postpone taxes until next year.
The worst part?
Other taxpayers might follow their example and demand reductions too.
Normally, the baron should have cracked down firmly.
But Baron Thesis always chose the easiest path.
“Investigate and eliminate the bandits? Do you know how much manpower costs? Leave them. They’ll pay eventually.”
“The Merchant Alliance wants to form a vigilante group? Give them money and reduce their taxes.”
A proper lord would’ve asked the city’s police or army for help.
Or, at worst, hired mercenaries.
But the baron simply gave in to the Alliance’s demands—reducing taxes and paying for a vigilante group.
Then, when money ran short, he would scold Glen:
“You’re my representative! Why haven’t you collected more taxes!?”
And when villagers came with complaints, Glen had to face them instead of the baron.
Because he was a commoner, the villagers didn’t show him the respect they would have given a noble.
If the estate actually helped its people, I could at least hold my head high. But it’s the opposite. Every day I feel like a criminal apologizing for problems I didn’t cause.
Still, he had stayed loyal his entire life.
This was his homeland.
He grew up watching the Thesis family and felt pride in serving them.
But after his mother passed away recently, doubt began to grow inside him.
Maybe I should take my family and leave… anywhere would be better than this.
With such thoughts, he walked out and picked up a broom.
Only four servants remained besides him when guards were excluded.
So the butler now cleaned the entrance himself.
He had already fired most employees to reduce costs.
It was better to risk being scolded for overstepping than to let the estate drown in debt.
As he swept, he heard a rider approaching.
“Butler! A letter from the capital!”
Hearing that a reply had come, Glen sighed again.
He feared what nonsense the baron might have written this time.
Still, he thanked the courier politely and went inside.
If it’s too ridiculous… I can always quit.
But when he opened the envelope, he was startled to see handwriting he did not recognize.
“…What? The young lady herself is coming here?”
No reason was written—only instructions:
● Dismiss all unnecessary servants.
● Do not give the vigilante group any more funding.
● Prepare the account books and financial records for her to review.
The last line felt especially ominous.
If she wants to inspect the finances… shouldn’t the baron come, not Lady Rosalyn?
It was a reasonable question.
Until now, Rosalyn Thesis had ignored anything related to estate management, even though she was the only heir.
Why would she return alone—when she should be staying in the capital looking for a marriage partner?
Don’t tell me… she’s been kicked out of the social scene?
