~Chapter 74~
The Crenbel family.
They too were facing a terrible Thursday morning.
Countess Crenbel stared at the security guards with a face hardened like wax.
“Where is the Count right now?”
“I don’t know. He hasn’t come home for a week.”
The Countess answered stiffly. The guards had insisted on coming all the way to her mansion.
Countess Crenbel glanced at the children lingering near the top of the stairs. They were looking down, scared.
“Take the children to their rooms. Reassure them nothing is wrong, and give them a snack.”
“Yes, Countess.”
Her lower lip trembled. She clenched her teeth.
Get a grip. Don’t make a scene in front of the children.
The wretched man responsible for this was probably still gambling somewhere.
He had stolen her emerald necklace and taken it out, so he would come back soon.
By now, he had likely spent all the money from selling the necklace.
If she could, she wanted to kill her husband—the fool who had let security guards into her proud mansion and garden.
After confirming the maid had taken the children away, the Countess finally spoke.
“I don’t know where he is either. What is this about?”
“There was a report, Countess.”
The guard said this expressionlessly.
Countess Crenbel stood in front of them to prevent them from coming further inside.
The guards didn’t seem eager to push past her.
“What kind of report? I don’t understand why this is happening this morning. Did my husband commit some crime?”
“There was a report that your husband has been gambling. We need to verify it. May we inspect? Only his bedroom and study will be checked.”
Anais?
She said she would give me a chance, but that snake of a woman!
Wasn’t the agreement supposed to be that the Countess would turn a blind eye in exchange for letting go of Gwenndolyn’s hand?
Countess Crenbel thought of her husband’s bedroom.
After meeting Anais that day, she had cleaned the entire mansion. Anything that looked related to gambling had been burned.
There’s nothing to find.
Without evidence, they would leave.
Her heart pounded.
From what they said, it didn’t seem that the evidence Anais had shown had reached the security office.
They were simply following up on a report.
I can push back a little more.
The Countess frowned.
“On what authority do you intend to search my home? Do you have definite proof of gambling? This could be a slander!”
The guards looked troubled.
One removed his hat and spoke to the Countess.
“Please have some tea. We have something to discuss.”
Countess Crenbel nodded.
They moved to a sitting room, ideal for a discreet conversation.
Although they had asked for tea, neither of the two guards touched their cups.
Now that she looked, they both had very uneasy expressions.
In truth, investigating a central noble family was something they would rather avoid. Gambling? That was considered a major crime punishable as treason under Emperor Castro’s policy.
The Crenbel family was significant enough to avoid being dragged into such trouble.
Illegal gambling was tolerated to some extent, and bribes were regularly sent to the security office. In return, the family was left alone.
Even so, there was a reason they had to come here.
“Has the Count done something to offend Constantine?”
Countess Crenbel’s face turned deathly pale.
Damn the Grand Duchess!
It had to be the work of that woman. She could ignore any promises she had made!
“The pressure came from Constantine’s side. Of course, Count Crenbel is not the type to be involved in gambling.”
“Yes. He’s weak. Wherever he is now, he’s probably fishing leisurely.”
The Countess gripped her handkerchief tightly.
“So we had to make a show of doing something. The Grand Duke of Constantine’s secretary personally came.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“While coming and going, the security officers seem to have met all the important people. The situation is a bit complicated, Countess. Even now, it might be better to go to the Grand Duke and apologize.”
Her breathing became rough. All that remained for her now was her pride.
Her castle had crumbled.
The mansion had long since passed into the hands of the bank. It was caused by her husband, the wastrel, borrowing money and not repaying it.
That was why she had gone along with Gwenndolyn’s schemes—to try to get money.
She only wanted to survive.
She had just wanted to believe that things would get better.
But the choice she made was pushing Crenbel into an even worse situation. That reality was terrifying.
She had thought a brilliant future awaited her.
That she could pass on everything she had enjoyed to her children, that Crenbel’s green garden would last forever.
The Countess stared out the window. Her mansion’s famous green maze garden was visible.
It belonged to the bank now.
She moved her lips.
“I will go to the Grand Duke and plead my case.”
“Yes. That is best. The quieter these matters are handled, the better.”
The guards left.
Countess Crenbel walked around her mansion. She had loved and cherished it greatly.
The stairs she had once aspired to climb, the glory she had once held—all faded, leaving only the shell.
She let out a bitter laugh.
The world was truly unfair.
And yet, there was nothing she could do. No one would reach out to Crenbel after she had fallen out of favor with Constantine.
When the chill of reality returned, she realized her situation clearly.
Even if she won Constantine’s forgiveness, what would change? Crenbel would still be under a mountain of debt.
She had already let go of more than half the servants.
Soon, the social circle would hear rumors that Crenbel had fallen. Then people would gossip about what the Count had been doing.
What would be left after selling the remaining valuables and dresses? Would the social elite accept a paupered noble?
They would be rejected and left alone.
Countess Crenbel made a decision. She would retreat before there was no way out.
This shining stage was simply not meant for her.
I might actually be someone obsessed with work. I often brought work home even on weekends.
But not this weekend.
Since coming to Constantine, I had been focusing on things I never even imagined.
For example, dating.
“Would this dress be better than that one? What do you think, Ella?”
“All of these are made to match the current fashion. They even arrived yesterday for outings. You would look beautiful in any of them.”
Ella said, pride in her eyes.
In fact, I had a dressmaker I had dealt with for a long time.
A distinguished, long-established salon, like Enshever, and a regular of Grandfather Sezares.
They knew my size and taste, sending dresses when the time was right.
The craftsmanship was always exquisite.
“Still, this fabric or that one?”
Even with the same color, different fabrics give a different feel. Grandfather had taught me how to judge things.
Both dresses were blue for the season—one slightly muted silk, the other a lively organza.
“Hmm.”
“Choose a dress that is classical, formal, yet fresh, Ella.”
“…You have too many requests, Your Grace.”
Ella struggled.
In the end, we chose the silk dress. Since we planned to visit an antiquarian bookstore and have lunch nearby, something too flashy wouldn’t be suitable.
After spending time choosing a dress, time to do my hair and makeup was short.
Ella called for her assistants to style my hair.
It had been a long time.
The effort I put into looking nice for someone—how long had it been since I felt that way?
Today’s dress held all that feeling.
I hoped I would appear as I wished to Baldwin.
It was the beginning of a dreamy weekend.
