BOPE 46

Chapter 46 …

“Chloe!”

“What on earth are you doing!”

At the twin outbursts from Aileen and Baron Patrasche, several servants standing near the sofa flinched.

But Donghui didn’t so much as bat an eye. Instead, she slowly crossed her legs in full view of the two, lounging with an air of leisure as she stared coolly at the flushed father and daughter.

The Chloe Grace who used to smile foolishly and cry her heart out was nowhere to be seen.

“I’m not selling Morta Village. I also can’t understand how that land could be worth only three thousand gold.”

Thinking she was just unhappy with the price, Baron Patrasche let out a short, dismissive chuckle.

No matter how much she pretended to be calm and grown-up, she was still in the palm of his hand.

This level of petulance he could indulge; in fact, he found it faintly amusing. It was almost praiseworthy that she knew how to haggle over land prices—signs that she’d grown a little.

But best to cut off those sprouts before they grew any further.

The baron concealed his sharpening wariness behind an unhurried smile.

“Are you short on money? Seems you’ve gotten greedy in the meantime. Ha ha! I’ll give it to you for four thousand gold. I can’t go any higher.”

Patrasche winked as if he were humoring her.

He had expected her to leap at the offer of a whole thousand gold more and sign on the spot. But, strangely, Chloe still didn’t so much as blink. Even though she should be strapped for cash right now.

“Even if you offered me a million gold, I wouldn’t sell. So you’d best be on your way. Oh, Aileen—there’s no longer a room for you at Grace Castle. Don’t ever go looking for it again.”

“Chloe!”

This girl must have gone mad. But Aileen only glared, unable to force the vulgar words bubbling up her throat past her lips. She would not lower herself in front of the help.

Ignoring Aileen completely, Chloe turned to the baron, who still stood there with an incredulous look on his face.

“I won’t be treating you to a meal. I’ve business outside and will be taking the head chef with me. Butler!”

Her voice when calling Handsome was edged with steel. The young man, jolted from his daze, snapped to attention and hurried over.

His posture was sharp and disciplined now.

Aileen had expected the old Scrooge of a butler to answer, but instead it was this tall, handsome youth.

“The guests are leaving. See them out.”

Without sparing the pair a glance, Donghui spun on her heel and strode toward the open study door.

Then, as if remembering something, she turned back and tossed something toward Aileen.

The object struck the edge of the table and fell to the floor—it was the brooch Aileen had brought.

“Oh, right. Take that back. It’s too cheap to even give to a servant as a gift.”

Having said her piece, Chloe turned again and walked off. The two could only stand there, dumbfounded, staring after her for a long moment.

Donghui remained on the balcony until the baron’s carriage disappeared from sight. The wind was sharp, but she hardly felt the cold.

Delma, who had been standing behind her, came forward with a thick blanket and draped it over Chloe’s shoulders.

Only then did Donghui feel the chill, clutching the blanket up to her chin.

“Thanks.”

“It’s satisfying, but… will this be okay?”

Delma handed her a steaming cup of lemon tea, her face full of concern.

Fragrant steam rose from the glass. Donghui took it, blew once, twice, and sipped. The warmth sliding down her throat brought comfort.

From the fireplace came the occasional crack of burning logs, filling the room with heat.

“Now you’re worried? Who was more eager than me to tear those two apart?”

Delma flinched and glanced away.

“That’s true, but your position is different from mine, my lady. What if Baron Patrasche tries to harm you?”

She had a point.

Though she didn’t know much about him, he struck her as the sort who would use any means necessary to get what he wanted.

She had seen eyes like his before—those of the loan sharks who’d come to demand money.

Their gaze, sliding up and down to see what else they could take, gleamed oily like marbles slicked with grease.

“Ugh.”

Just recalling it made her shiver and wrap her arms around herself.

“Are you very worried?”

Misreading her reaction, Delma asked in an even more anxious voice.

“No, nothing like that. Just thinking of someone. Handsome!”

“Yes, my lady.”

The young man, stationed near the balcony, answered at once. Since witnessing her throw the baron out, his response time had become much quicker.

“How’s the mercenary recruitment going?”

“Yes! I contacted the guild for about fifty men.”

Fifty…

If she wanted to reinforce the Black Forest, Morta, Enol, and the area near the castle, fifty wouldn’t be enough.

“Make it two hundred.”

“Pardon? Y-yes!”

Startled, Handsome took one look at her firm expression and bolted outside.

If the carrier pigeon was to reach the guild today, there was no time to waste.

When she first heard that Chloe had distributed grain to the commoners, Aileen hadn’t thought much of it.

Grace’s granaries could only hold so much, and she assumed Chloe had given the angry, starving people just enough to keep them from rioting.

The discontent of the lowborn could always be quelled with a beating and a crust of bread.

But Chloe’s defiant refusal to sell Morta Village kept replaying in her mind.

The baron and Aileen went straight from Grace Castle to Morta Village, intending to stoke the villagers’ anger.

But even before reaching the village gates, Baron Patrasche realized his plan was doomed.

“What in the world…?”

Aileen was just as shocked.

In only a few months, Morta Village had completely transformed.

Not only was the entire village clean, the once-crumbling houses had been neatly repaired. Smiles lit the villagers’ faces, smoke puffed merrily from chimneys, and the savory smells of supper drifted through the air. It all meant there was plenty to eat.

Even the children’s clothes were far too colorful and ornate for poor peasants.

“Father, I think those are made from Chloe’s dresses.”

Aileen stared at the children in disbelief.

Narrowing his eyes, Patrasche studied their clothes. Sure enough, they were fashioned from Chloe’s gowns.

The fabric was far too thin to ward off the biting winter winds, but compared to the rags they used to wear, it was luxury.

“This is strange. Chloe would never do this. Where did she get the money? And giving her own clothes to make garments for lowborns? Impossible. Someone must be controlling her. Oh! There must be someone else after Grace territory. I bet those jewels came from that person too.”

Aileen rattled off her suspicions.

Patrasche’s thoughts weren’t far from hers.

“We’ll have to plant more people. I need to find out who’s behind her.”

The spy he’d planted in Grace Castle long ago had failed to grasp the details. If the man had done his job, they wouldn’t have suffered such humiliation today.

His own complacency infuriated him.

“I must have been far too lenient with my dear niece.”

The carriage lingering near Morta finally pulled away after a long while.

“My lady! The people sent to buy fabric have returned!”

The unpleasant taste left by the baron’s visit melted away at the good news.

Donghui leapt from her seat in the middle of dinner and dashed outside, not even thinking to pick up the fork that clattered to the floor.

“My lady! Be careful! You’ll get hurt if you fall!”

Delma hurried after her, but there was no catching up to the sprinting lady.

“When did she get so fast!”

The lady, who had once done nothing but sleep, had changed far too much.

Panting from the chase, Delma’s lips still curved into a broad smile.

Ten wagons rolled through the castle gates, each piled high with winter cloth.

Donghui circled them, delighted. This would be more than enough to make winter clothes for the village children.

“What about the tailors?”

Before she even finished asking, a group of people hurried forward and bowed.

“These are the tailors who came with us,” answered Den, a young man reputed to be so responsible that even Scrooge entrusted him with tasks.

“Is this all of them?”

She had ordered at least twenty. Den’s head drooped—he’d brought barely half.

“We could only find eight.”

“Why?”

At her question, Den shifted nervously, as if unsure whether he should say.

Sensing this, Delma stepped in. It was probably something too awkward for the good-natured Den to tell his lady directly.

“They probably thought they wouldn’t get paid properly if they came to Grace Castle. To most people, Grace is still a ruined territory.”

Buoyed by Delma’s help, Den spoke more clearly.

“No matter how much we offered, they didn’t believe us. I’m sorry, my lady.”

He bowed low. Seeing such a meek person look so remorseful made Donghui feel strangely guilty.

The tailors looked no older than fifteen to twenty.

The more experienced ones had likely refused to come, so Den must have brought whoever was young and free.

Instead of happy smiles at finding work, the line of them looked weighed down with worry.