“What…?”

 

He looked around, turning his head awkwardly whenever he made eye contact with the gentlemen in the club.

 

But whenever his gaze turned away, it was clear from the corner of his eye that he secretly glanced back as if unable to contain his curiosity.

 

“What is going on?”

 

A foreboding feeling washed over him.

 

Viscount Barden anxiously scanned the gentlemen, hoping someone would approach him and say something, or perhaps provide a hint about this strange atmosphere.

 

However, as if they had all conspired in advance, every single one of them averted their eyes or pretended to be engrossed in conversation when his gaze fell upon them.

 

“Found you!”

 

The viscount’s eyes lit up as he spotted a familiar face in the crowd.

 

Their eyes met—It was Ick, who belatedly buried his head in the book he was holding, but the viscount was already striding confidently toward him.

 

With every step he took, he could feel the gazes following him intently, even without looking.

 

Taking a seat opposite his counterpart, the viscount quickly exchanged greetings.

 

“Lord Exinum.”

 

“Viscount Barden.”

 

At this point, Lord Exinum could no longer pretend to be oblivious.

 

Finally lowering his book, he nodded lightly as if to indicate that he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

 

The viscount leaned in, bringing his face closer, and whispered softly.

 

“The atmosphere is strange. What on earth is happening?”

 

“Well… you see, um, hehe. I’m not sure how to put it into words.”

 

“Is something really happening? Please tell me frankly.”

 

Eagerly leaning toward his counterpart, the viscount oozed forward as if pouring out his heart.

 

Lord Exinum, feeling burdened, retreated slightly, and discreetly picked up a newspaper that was placed on the window sill.

 

“You haven’t read today’s newspaper yet, have you.”

 

“No, not yet. I was going to, but it seemed a bit strange… What’s in it?”

 

The viscount almost snatched the newspaper from Lord Exinum’s hand, as if trying to wrest it away.

 

“On the front page.”

 

With a flourish, Lord Exinum retrieved a small slip of paper from his pocket and spoke. He glanced briefly at the viscount’s face.

 

Inside the club, everyone now openly stared at the viscount, not even attempting to hide their scrutiny. Even the waiter serving brandy had stopped in his tracks, holding a tray, to watch the scene. The gentleman who had ordered the drink also stared at him as if he were mad, so there was no need to worry about any reprimand.

 

As the viscount skimmed the page for a moment, his eyes soon widened, almost as large as dessert spoons.

 

“What is this nonsense!”

 

“‘Duke Duke Desmier, named as Khalia Estelle’s guardian and successor to the Count Estelle’s legacy.’

 

“‘On the morning of the 10th, Emperor Thearnon designated Duke Duke Desmier as Khalia Estelle’s guardian and acting Count Estelle.’

 

“‘On the night of the 9th, Duke Duke Desmiere urgently requested an audience with His Majesty, and this morning, His Majesty appointed him as Khalia Estelle’s guardian and acting deputy for the Estellia domain.’

 

“‘Duke Duke Desmiere revealed, ‘The deceased Countess Estelle was close to the late Duchess, and I discovered from her diary, which I found just yesterday, that she was the godmother of Khalia. This led me to request a guardianship.’

 

“Accordingly, Duke Duke Desmier will act as a legal representative until Miss Estelle reaches the age of 19.

 

“Afterward, Miss Estelle will move to the Count’s residence in the capital, and management of the Estelle Manor and the domain will be supervised by the Duke Desmier family.

 

“Meanwhile, the position of her stepfather, Viscount Gerys Barden, who had served as her guardian and acting deputy for the past seven years, remains unconfirmed.”

 

“This, this, this is absurd!”

 

Enraged by the news, Viscount Barden slammed the table.

 

Exinum, his trusted aide, quickly raised his protective gauntlet.

 

“Ahem, um. M-My lord, please calm down…”

 

“Do I look calm to you, Lord Exinum?! What kind of insolence is this?”

 

The viscount raged furiously.

 

“What? The deceased duchess was friendly with Marina? I can guarantee you that Marina never even brushed past that woman with a single strand of her hair!”

 

“W-Well, that’s quite an assertion, Viscount Barden. Referring to the duchess as that woman… What… Hmm.”

 

Visibly uncomfortable, Lord Exinum finally composed himself and glanced around.

 

Everyone at the Opur Club was staring at him.

 

Their faces showed lingering curiosity and a subtle sense of discomfort, similar to that Lord Exinum had displayed.

 

A chill ran down Viscount Barden’s spine.

 

Until yesterday, he believed he belonged among them.

 

He thought he stood on equal footing with the nobles who played with the empire and considered them his comrades.

 

But today, as Viscount Barden, the one who dared insult the revered duchess still praised by countless others, and even more so as the acting deputy of Count Estelle, his title vanished… he couldn’t feel that sense of belonging.

 

The scent that came across from the foreign continent suddenly felt strangely repulsive.

 

“M-M-Master! Lord Barden!”

 

Just then, the club’s door swung open noisily, and a panting servant entered.

 

The previously fidgeting servant’s eyes welled with tears as he approached the viscount.

 

“Master, my lord… You should return to the mansion immediately.”

 

“What now?!”

 

The viscount was livid. However, as he raised his voice, the contents of the article he had just read chilled him to the core.

 

“Suddenly, someone arrived from the Desmier Duchy and said we all had to leave…”

 

The servant, who had suddenly lost his means of livelihood, choked back his sobs, trying to convey his own injustice. But at that moment, nothing could compare to the shock Viscount Barden felt.

 

“Let’s go.”

 

Viscount Barden rushed out the door, his faltering steps trailing behind his servant. His disheveled hat fell to the ground, swaying in the breeze.

 

After the two of them had vanished like the wind, the gentlemen of the Opur Club began sharing their delightful speculations about the extraordinary event and the kind of upheaval it might bring to the empire.

 

<center>*  *  *</center>

 

The Viscount embarked on a rapid journey, relying on gestures and nods due to his unfamiliarity with the local language and customs, and disembarked from the carriage as if he were tumbling down.

 

The esteemed Countess Estelle had no patience for bureaucracy.

 

“No! This is our home! No one can chase us away from here! Release it this instant!”

 

The Viscountess, her noble dignity abandoned, cried through her tears while stubbornly resisting the servants of Desmier who were removing their belongings.

 

The helpless servant, unable to lay a hand on the noblewoman’s body, stood still awkwardly.

 

“W-What is happening here?”

 

“Darling!”

 

The despairing Viscount approached. The servant, sensing the atmosphere, put down the luggage and left for another place.

 

The Viscountess sobbed as she embraced her husband.

 

“A representative from the Desmier Duchy came and suddenly evicted us, saying we have to leave the mansion… It’s a lie, right?! Why would the Duchy suddenly intervene?”

 

She pounded his chest with clenched fists. The Viscount held her close as he witnessed their servants, their possessions, and their domestic affairs continuously driven from the mansion.

 

Then, both the Viscount and the Viscountess’ faces were filled with astonishment as they saw something they could not ignore.

 

“Helena!”

 

The Viscountess screamed and rushed toward the entrance of the mansion.

 

“Greetings, father-in-law, mother-in-law.”

 

Pale-faced Helena appeared and staggered as she walked out.

 

“You, you, how dare you…do this to us? Is this your doing?”

 

The Viscount, stumbling behind his wife, asked with uncertainty.

 

Seems like family is family after all; their reactions are the same. Khalia, muttering to herself, smiled slyly.

 

“Of course. Did you like it?”

 

Her purple irises flickered with an eerie light through her half-closed eyes.

 

“I told you, you would find out soon enough, didn’t I?”

 

<center>*  *  *</center>

 

After causing an uproar the previous night, I spent the night in the punishment room on the third floor, wide-eyed and sleepless.

 

I couldn’t take a sip of water, but it didn’t matter. The anticipation of quenching my thirst alone sweetly tightened around my throat.

 

As morning came, I watched the viscount ride away in his carriage through the single small window, and with patience, I waited a little longer.

 

In the past, the swift handling of the Duke’s affairs had always been remarkable.

 

Indeed, it wasn’t long before splendid carriages adorned with the emblem of the Desmier Duchy started arriving one after another.

 

“Finally!”

 

I exclaimed internally in excitement at the thrilling sight.

 

The guards protecting the entrance of the Count’s residence couldn’t even attempt to inspect them.

 

They simply stood bewildered, hesitating and shuffling about, until the moment someone from the leading carriage attempted to disembark, and immediately, the gates were opened.

 

Using the dusty window as a mirror, I tidied my hair. A guest was about to arrive.

 

The thick glass pane, though small, depicted my tangled black hair and my pale face distinctly.

 

Commotion could be heard from below, gradually growing louder as it approached where I was.

 

Knock. Knock.

 

After two polite knocks, the sound of a latch being undone reached my ears, and the door opened.

 

Behind Ashley, who trembled while holding the key to the punishment room, unfamiliar servants, most likely sent by the Duke, stood in a line at the end of the corridor.

 

Through the window, I caught a glimpse of a blond-haired man with greying temples who stood before them and bowed to me, offering his greetings.

 

“I have come to serve you, Miss Estelle.”

 

My face contorted with a broad smile against the hazy window and grew flushed.

 

As I turned around, the man raised his head and spoke.

 

“I am Obert Miller, the butler of the Desmier Duchy. I have arrived to serve you at the Duke’s behest.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Obert.”

 

I couldn’t tell what the Duke had told him, but there was no particular expression on his face, as a proficient butler should be. His manner of speaking only the necessary words was neat and devoid of unnecessary frills.

 

“If you could please let me know of any belongings you wish to take with you to the Duke’s residence, I will make sure they are prepared.”

 

“I don’t have anything to take.”

 

I averted my face. As I stood there next to the door, I locked eyes with Ashley, who still shook.

 

“Even if there’s something to discard.”

 

I took a step closer to the door. The closer I got, the more Ashley trembled.

 

Once I stood beside her, her face suddenly drained of color. I enjoyed observing her in that state as I grabbed her pristine white apron and tore it apart.

 

How long had I yearned for this moment!

 

“Ashley, you’re fired.”

 

“No!”

 

A scream erupted from Ashley’s lips.