MBSE Chapter 91

The atmosphere was so frigid that one would think there were no guests invited over for a meal. The steward only glanced at his master while pouring water into Ian’s cup. Everyone residing in the Merellof estate was attentive only to their master’s mood, yet Ian and the man he brought along, Beric, were completely at ease.

“Wow. The smell really hits you.”

Beric sniffed and relished the scent of meat to his heart’s content. Count Merellof asked in an irritated tone.

“Sir Ian. Why on earth did you bring that guy along?”

“You must have seen him before, my lord. Beric is the man I rely on the most recently to take care of things. Since you were kind enough to invite me for a meal, I brought him along to introduce him.”

I didn’t get any word to come alone, so this is why I brought him. Is there a problem? Ian smiled innocently as if nothing was amiss, further stoking the Count’s irritation.

‘If I had known this would happen, I should have told the servant to spit in his soup,’ the Count internally grumbled.

“Serve the meal.”

“Yes, my lord.”

At the Count’s command, the steward began carrying dishes in earnest. They say a rich clan can sustain itself for three generations even if ruined, and the estate itself was faring well enough even on the brink of destitution.

As Ian looked at the Gulla dish, he smiled brightly.

“I’m very glad to see you have developed a taste for Gulla.”

“Indeed. I’ll admit it’s my favorite. I heard that Sir Ian has permitted the serfs to trade in Gulla. Now even those lowlifes get to taste this?”

“Good things ought to be shared. No need to thank me. Thanks to you, my lord, I was also able to secure part of my tribute.”

As soon as Ian took a sip of water, Beric began to ‘attack’ the food as if a signal had dropped, as Ian put it. He was eating as if he would clean out Merellof’s entire storehouse. The clattering of Beric’s cutlery continuously echoed in the room.

“…There should still be limits even to vulgarity. Hmph.”

Although the Count openly jeered at him, Beric didn’t seem to care at all. His attitude was one of ‘you can bark all you want, I’ll just keep eating’. As Ian passed his own bowl to Beric as well, he broke the silence.

“Since you were so kind to invite me for a meal, I have also prepared a gift of gratitude. Clark, was it? The servant you gave me last time.”

At Ian’s words, the wife’s knife froze in place. It was only a very brief moment that no one but Ian noticed, however.

“I was thinking of returning him. If I had known a transaction of this scale was forthcoming from the beginning, I would not have accepted him in the first place.”

“Hrmm. Well, I won’t stop you if that’s what you want.”

“Since there was no contract drawn up, you can just take him back as is. And, I have a proposal I wish to make. I hope that you, my lord, strongly encourage your serfs to actively consume the Gulla cuisine of our estate.”

The Count’s expression soured. Wouldn’t that amount to his money flowing into the neighboring estate? Sensing his chance, he set down his cutlery and shot back.

“Sir Ian, unless the ground splits open, you and I will remain neighbors for life. How could you make such a major decision regarding the Gulla trade permit on your own? And right after trading with us!”

“I don’t quite understand. We didn’t go into Merellof and sell anything, and the serfs here said they wanted to come buy it themselves, how could I stop them?”

So he was reaffirming their economic autonomy once more? Ian replied with his arms crossed. It was to give the impression that he too was displeased.

Of course he didn’t actually feel that way, but he had to put on a bit of an act to make it seem like proper negotiations.

“And because we engaged in trade with you, my lord, I was also able to permit the transactions. It signified the thawing of the frozen relations between Merellof and us. I thought you would see the significance as well, but it appears I was mistaken.”

‘That insolent mouth of his…’

The Count barely held down the rage boiling up inside him and regained his composure.

“So I understand it has meaning, but isn’t the timing a bit off? My mistake, I nearly misunderstood. Since right after I purchased Gulla, you also permitted trade with the serfs.”

“That is precisely why I am making this request. Please encourage consumption among your serfs, my lord, but forbid the trading of live Gulla. We will crack down on it as well but to be honest, we are short on manpower. Supply and demand have an intricate relationship, so caution on one side alone will not suffice.”

This was why Ian had accepted the dinner invitation.

Rather than focusing on the “selling” of live Gulla, he was laying the groundwork centered around “buying” it instead. If the Count were to die a month later, who knows, but preparing for the possibility that he lives on was the safest course.

Of course, filling Beric’s stomach was killing two birds with one stone, but with his immense activity level, food expenses had become too great to handle. Occasionally getting a free meal like this didn’t seem so bad.

As long as the Count doesn’t keel over from high blood pressure, that is.

“Another bowl over here!”

“Please wait a moment.”

“Fill it right to the brim. Don’t skimp on the slices.”

Beric held up an empty bowl, requesting a refill from the steward. The Count ground his teeth in frustration but couldn’t bring himself to stop him, only downing more wine.

“…You’re drinking quite heavily.”

“Fine. I’ll inform the estate then. Live Gulla is a prohibited item. That should suffice, no? I’m sure you understand fully what I mean?”

Ignoring his wife’s words completely, the Count warned Ian. He was signaling his maximum cooperation—before cultivation of Gulla began in the estate, if Ian sold off any live Gulla, there would be hell to pay. Glancing sideways at the wife, Ian nodded.

“Of course, my lord.”

“Then I shall take my leave for now. Sorry, but work has piled up for me. Dear, please entertain Sir Ian.”

It seemed he could no longer endure this meal because of his temper. It was extremely rude behavior, but Ian didn’t mind at all. On the contrary, the meal was bound to be much more pleasant without the Count’s presence. The wife nodded as if to say please leave it to me, and the Count stormed off.

Caw!

“Phew…”

As the door closed, the wife let out a sigh and rubbed her forehead without realizing it. She didn’t act this way when there were external guests present, so it must have been due to the medicine making her more sensitive recently.

“Are you alright, my lady?”

“Yes, of course. You’re enjoying the food after all, no?”

However, contradicting her words, she set down her cutlery as if her appetite had completely vanished. With her eyes, she dismissed all the servants including the steward from the dining room.

Creak.

As the door closed, Beric continued to vigorously devour the food with even more vigor. Ian subtly asked about the situation.

“How are things? Have you been using the cosmetics I sent over well?”

There was a chance Merellof’s wife also had a magical brooch like Dergha. Understanding his implication, the wife smiled faintly and nodded.

“Yes. I used it today too. Don’t I look better?”

“It does seem that way. Though to be honest I can’t really tell.”

“You mentioned bringing Clark.”

“He should be outside. His value exceeds that of gold coins after all.”

The implication that he was being sent for the wife’s sake was clear. With Merellof’s death, the family would certainly fall. From Ian’s position as the neighboring lord, it was an opportunity he could not miss. Though their interests aligned, this was still a definite favor.

The wife lifted her head slightly and greeted him.

“I see. Thank you.”

“Just my duty.”

“Still, receiving something for free doesn’t seem right. And last time, you showed quite a bit of interest in my ring.”

The mysterious alchemist’s pumpkin-colored gemstone creation. As she glanced up at the ceiling, she murmured.

“I’d like to at least give you that, if you don’t mind.”

“It would be my honor.”

“Will you tell me if I ask? Why do you pay such attention to the alchemist’s failed gemstone.”

It was simple curiosity. Ian took out the necklace around his neck nonchalantly, as if it were no big deal.

“Actually, I have something similar.”

“Oh my. A necklace.”

“It seems to be from the same alchemist. I’ve had it since I was very young so I’m quite curious about it in many ways.”

Interest piqued, the wife leaned in closely to examine the necklace. It was definitely the same as her ring.

Just then,

Creak.

A servant walked in, then froze in place in front of the door. Because Ian and the wife’s distance was too close. No one inside the dining room was doing anything suspicious, yet the servant unconsciously cast his eyes downward.

“Pardon me, I’ve come to change out the tableware.”

“Ah yes. I was about to call for that. Change out his dishes over there.”

The wife gestured as if to say perfect timing. It was because Beric had gotten sauce all over the place while eating. The servant bustled about, clearing the table, then bowed deeply again before exiting outside.

“Are the guests still dining inside?”

“That man seems like he hasn’t eaten for days, is that why he’s eating so much?”

“So that’s why. Huh, seems like there’ll be meat scraps everywhere, hmm.”

Activity grew busy in the prep room adjoining the dining hall. The servant who had brought in the new dishes stood there absentmindedly as if finding something odd. His impatient colleague nudged her shoulder.

“What’re you spacing out for? Get moving.”

“Huh? Oh, right, I should move.”

“You saw a monster in there or something?”

“…No monster, but, um, were the lady and Lord Ian always that close with each other? I thought they hadn’t seen each other much.”

“Why, did something happen?”

“When I went in… the lady was touching Sir Ian’s neck….”

Crash!

Apparently shocked at her words, her colleague dropped and broke a plate. At the same time, all the servants in the kitchen stopped what they were doing and looked over. Unable to get a word out, they surrounded the gossiping servant and warned her.

“Watch your mouth!”

“That girl must’ve lost her mind.”

“If the master ever finds out about this, we’re all dead for sure.”

It wouldn’t just be Lady Lien facing death, if they were unlucky the servants would not escape bloodshed either. Besides, was there anyone here who hadn’t received the lady’s help at least once while being beaten?

“Stop spouting nonsense and close your eyes and ears.”

“A-alright….”

“Forget it from your memory. Remember when the Count hit you last time and the lady took your place? He would’ve crippled your arms and legs and kicked you out if not for her.”

Everyone silently resolved themselves, calming their pounding hearts. Frankly, with a husband like that, it was only natural for the lady’s eyes to wander. And Ian was around her age, plus he was a commoner who had risen to lord status, not to mention exceptionally good looking.

‘It was bound to happen. Seriously.’

It felt like a silent storm was brewing inside the estate. Everyone was murmuring as they dispersed, and the steward who had been waiting outside also gave up on going back inside, turning away.

Creak.

Tap tap.

The steward’s heavy footsteps crawled into the darkness of the corridor. It was the direction of the Count’s office.

‘It seems Ian is seducing the lady to plot something against Merellof….’

But was there no way to convey this to her without causing maximum harm? The steward heaved a deep sigh, leaning his forehead against the wall. Far away, a thin ray of light leaked out from the crack of the dining room door.

“Steward?”

Just then, a servant called out to him. Being addressed as ‘steward’ splashed cold water on him, waking his senses. These were unnecessary worries.

“Are you not feeling well?”

“No, I’m fine. Go assist in the dining hall.”

“Yes, sir.”

Passing by the servant, the steward hardened his resolve. He certainly held grateful feelings and human affection for the lady, but before that, he was the loyal steward of House Merellof.

Knock knock.

“My lord. I’m coming in.”

As the door opened, the Count who had been smoking a cigarette looked over curiously. His gaze seemed to ask if Ian had left.

***

And the next day.

Ian greeted the morning as usual and left his bedroom. Everything was the same peaceful daily life. Despite winter, the weather felt a bit warmer.

“Where’s Beric?”

“He’s lying down with an upset stomach.”

“That guy really is something. Tsk.”

Sipping his tea in the dining room, Ian clicked his tongue. Was it because Beric wasn’t here? The estate itself felt quieter. Romandro was still asleep while most of the Nersairn and Cheonrye tribe tribesmen could often be found at the observation post by the border on clear days.

To perform astrological divinations and such.

Tap tap!

Thud! Woof!

“What’s that?”

“I wonder.”

Hannah who had been pouring tea also flinched at the commotion audible from outside. A servant came rushing in as if he would trip and fall while making a fuss.

“Lord Ian! Lord Ian!”

“You look lively so early in the morning.”

“Me-me-Merellof sent a letter!”

“As expected, those guys really…”

“The-the lord is dead!”

Ian knitted his brows at the servant’s broken speech. Gasping for breath, the servant stammered on.

“Count Merellof has passed away!”

“What? I just had dinner with him yesterday though.”

Could the drug have progressed faster than he had expected?

But that was not the servant’s answer.

“It seems Clark stabbed and killed the Count!”