# 35
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This morning, as soon as the Marquis of Lenco opened his eyes in bed, his mood worsened. The late Duke of the previous dynasty appeared to him in a dream, and stared at him for a long time before disappearing.
“A bad day since the morning.”
The Marquis did not believe in dreams or superstitions. On normal days, he would forget a dream like this as soon as he got out of bed, but unusually, that cold, uncomfortable feeling remained with him even as he sat at his desk. He couldn't concentrate, and he felt a contraction in his stomach, so he got up from his place... and at that moment, rushing steps were heard.
A chilling feeling crept up, as if his heart was dropping, and a sudden chill spread throughout his body.
The Marquis could not resist the anxiety that coiled around his heart like a snake, so he rushed towards the door. As soon as he opened it violently, the man who was raising his hand to knock retreated in horror.
“S, Monsieur Marquis!”
“What's the matter?!”
He sincerely hoped it was something not worth worrying about, but the report that entered his ears was one that could not be ignored.
“Have all those responsible for the treasury been summoned?!”
The Marquis sat back at his desk with a grim face. The nearby nobles exchanged worried looks before one of them asked cautiously:
"Mr. Marquis, what's going on?"
“Did you find the missing files?!”
“We've finished sorting, but we're still looking for...”
«Check immediately for the budget files for the last quarter! quickly!"
He felt a cold anxiety churning through his insides like a snake, and he hoped that those very files were not the ones missing. But the dreaded dream finally turned into reality.
“Doesn't exist?”
"Yes. Comprehensive budget files for the last quarter are not available.”
One inconsistent file, five administrators.
These scoundrels will try to hold each other responsible, and each will say different things. When the accounts are revealed to be a complete mess, Walter will not miss the opportunity to take control of the finances.
The Marquis restrained his desire to scream, and his mind worked madly. He cannot hand this palace over to a young child.
He summoned only a limited number to a secret room, and ordered them:
“Rewrite lost files immediately. And the mismatched funds... they loaded them with the names of the five who were summoned to the Duke.”
“Mr. Marquis, this is...”
“This is the Duke's plan to expel all current officials in charge of finances from the palace. If you don't do this, you will not only be fired, but you will be forced to pay huge sums of money that you have never seen in your life. Is this what you want?
The tail must be cut off.
While the nobles, who had received his secret orders, were anxious to rearrange the accounts and place all the guilt on the names of the five, the Marquis was thinking: Who would he sacrifice and who would keep him alive? It is a great danger to blame everyone.
It is wiser to crush one uess, uess person.
At a critical moment like this, the gods of victory seemed to be on his side. When he received good news from his wife.
“So… the Duke’s mistress assaulted the maids of the Count of Lewin’s daughter?”
The cold dissipated, and an overwhelming euphoria washed over him.
What recklessness, to think himf protected by the empty prestige of a duke! How grateful he was for that foolishness. A duke would give a chandelier room to a woman like that? The nobles were bound to question his judgement.
“Tell them to expel that insolent person from the palace at this opportunity.”
If things went like this, people's attention would turn to the duke and that woman, and the money issue might be quietly buried...
But the hope that rose above the anxiety did not last long. News came to him that knocked him down.
“S, Monsieur Marquis! His Highness the Duke summoned the palace security official!
“Why is the security official suddenly?!!”
“He said that he would hold him accountable for the maid detention incident that occurred last night...”
“What happened that the security official would be summoned because of this?!”
The Marquis could bear it no longer. He rushed to meet the Duke himf. But in the distance he saw Count Lewin, the security official, coming towards him. He was pale-faced and lifeless. The Marquis ran up to him and seized his arm.
"Are you well? No, more importantly... What did His Highness tell you?!
“Excuse me, let me pass!”
The Marquis's eyes moved slowly with the huge young man who passed by. Joseph Rixton, who had turned the office upside down like a wild boar, was walking away with brisk steps. The problem was the thick stacks of papers in his arms.
“What is that man carrying now?”
asked the Marquis, trying to compose himf as a chill crept up his spine. Count Lewin bit his lips and replied:
“Documents relating to Richmond House forces...”
“What?”
“I had no choice, sir. He said that the forces inside the palace could not be trusted because they were not aware of the detention incident...”
The Marquis wondered for a moment: Is this a dream? The Duke who returned only yesterday, reaching out for money and military power, as he stood by and watched?
In his mind, the ghost of the late Duke loomed, looking at him with dark eyes, like the shadow of a fallen castle.
‘I… I trust you, Marquis of Lenco.’
A gentle, calm voice scratches his ears.
Black hair, black eyes, the back of a duke riding a huge war horse, the vast land of Richmond stretching behind his shoulders.
‘If something happens to me… please, take care of my mother and Walter.’
The Marquis trembled, and ran towards his office like a fugitive. He began examining everything with his eyes. The desk that the former Duke used, the chair, even the ink quill… were all his.
Yes. It's all mine.
His bloodshot eyes sparkled with sharp coldness. Ghosts don't scare him. There is no room for retreat or surrender.
“It's mine. This whole palace… is mine.”
Repeat the phrase over and over. The voice of a once-wise man, now gloomy and dark, dampened the dry air of the room.
＊ ＊ ＊
Mrs. Isaacs felt that the phrase “melting insides from the cold” was not a metaphor. Her head is on fire, but her stomach is cold, as if her intestines are being eaten away and about to fall out.
“Is this all the budget allocated to the Grand Lady?!”
Despite her anger, the Marquis's maid replied without blinking:
“It is prepared according to the last quarter’s budget that the Grand Lady used. What's the problem?
“Even last quarter’s budget was a disaster! With this, the eldest lady will not be able to buy a single dress for the winter of this year. Then you ask: What is the problem?!
The maid gave a goofy smile.
“I don't know, Mrs. Isaacs. The eldest lady doesn't even leave the annex, so does she really need new clothes? Hmm...if you don't like it, go to the Treasury Department and file a protest. It would be preferable for the Grand Lady to go herf, of course.”
«……»
“Oh, by the way... how is the eldest lady?”
Isak's face froze, so the maid covered her mouth with a fan embroidered with oriental patterns that sparkled in the sun, and laughed.
“We haven't seen her for a long time, so we were worried about her. The Duke she had longed for had returned, but she did not rise. A bit surprising. But... what is no longer surprising these days?
The maid left a floating sneer behind her and went away.
Over the course of more than ten years, the treatment gradually worsened, like a garment getting wet in the light rain. Being next to a master who had given up his rights was unbearably stressful. Even responding to ridicule has become a burden.
But she can't collapse. Mrs. Isaacs straightened her features, straightened herf, and walked down the cold, miserable corridor as elegantly as if she were walking into a wing of the imperial palace.
Eliza's bedroom, the only warm one in the annex.
And Eliza was…awake.
“Grand Madam.”
Isaac rushed over to her with joy. Eliza was half-sitting, leaning her body against the bed, but it was a pleasant sight compared to her always lying down.
“Why all this noise?”
Eliza asked slowly, and Isaac quickly answered:
“The Marquis’s maid visited us.”
Cautious hopes rose in her heart. Eliza, who did not move like still water, got up herf and complained about the noise. Perhaps she might ask about the reason for the visit?
But Eliza, harshly, pointed with her withered hand toward the window.
“Close the curtains. "I want to sleep more."
«……»
Issac did not even cry when the former duke's death was announced. But now she wanted to scream and cry. If you only ask, about the reason for the maid’s visit, about the condition of the palace... She was ready to tell everything.
“What's wrong, Arwen? "I said close the curtains."
Isaac could not disobey her mistress's order. You wither with it, you die slowly with it, and you can only pray that it will wake up.
But, as she was pulling the curtain with a heavy hand, her hand stopped in the air. Her eyes shook.
On the path leading to the back garden, a man and a woman were approaching the annex.