ALPL 08

Chapter: 08

As the man walked, the flickering candles cast long shadows.

The black shadow stretching across the carpet grew longer with every step he took. When that shadow finally seemed to engulf her, Luise held her breath in a strange fear.

She went to the table and sat across from him. The round dining table was lavishly set, with ornate candelabras and seasonal flowers at the center, surrounded by a variety of dishes: soup, fish, and meats.

It was a rare, magnificent meal, yet it was far from enough to dilute the imposing presence of the man before her. Despite having been nearly starving all day, Luise did not feel even a trace of appetite.

While silently turning awkward greetings over in her mouth, the Count of the borderlands spoke.

“Let’s talk while we eat. Caius von Burck. The master of this Burck, and Miriam’s elder brother.”

He said this calmly as he picked up his fork. Luise could only swallow nervously and grip her napkin.

“Luise Henriette… Ermolira,” she said.

Her tongue felt stiff pronouncing her own name.

He had revealed his name first, so she could not refrain from answering. Unlike the people in Melk or the pawnshop owner, he was a man who could grasp her identity in an instant.

“Ermolira,” he repeated.

She had hoped he would pretend not to know, since he had agreed to interview her despite knowing her name.

“An eradicated pro-emperor noble,” Caius said, not indulging her.

“Do you not feel resentment toward your parents? They once had fertile lands and likely lived in a mansion as grand as this in the capital.”

At that, the man’s cold gaze swept over Luise. Her fingertips trembled under the slow, assessing look tracing her gaunt cheeks, ragged shoulders, and worn sleeves.

Her cheeks flushed with humiliation. Fortunately, the candlelight was not bright enough to reveal her reddening face.

“I was born just after the current emperor ascended. I was never a noble, not even for a moment. So there’s nothing to resent or feel wronged about.”

Caius paused briefly while cutting his lamb with a casual hand, then spoke as if realizing something.

“Perhaps your parents changed their stance at the last moment to save the child in their womb. After all, you are the only survivor among the pro-emperor nobles who took a hardline stance.”

Luise forced a faint smile while pretending to scoop some soup.

“Well… I was very young, so I don’t remember the events at that time. But my parents, as far as I know, were not very political people.”

How could serving the emperor faithfully be considered a sin? It was saddening to live in a reality where she had to hide her parents’ deeds as if they were shameful.

But history is written by the victors. She could not sit at the table of the Count of Burck and proudly claim her parents’ loyalty to the previous emperor, who had lost even their titles.

If she did, she wouldn’t even be able to earn enough to place her mother in the family mausoleum.

Thinking she had navigated the conversation carefully enough, Luise noticed his gaze had grown colder.

Had she offended him somehow? She quickly added:

“My… father passed away early, but I received a lifetime of noble education from my mother. If you entrust me, I will do my best to teach the young lady.”

The golden gaze across from her relaxed the tension she had carried since childhood. He twisted the corner of his lips into a smile.

“Teaching Miriam requires more patience than knowledge or refinement. You’ve met her, so you must have noticed already.”

It was a brutally honest evaluation for someone speaking about his own sister.

Suddenly, the expressions of fear Miriam held toward her brother, and the maid’s rude behavior, became understandable. Luise realized who had started the indifferent yet bitter treatment.

Lowering her gaze to hide the swelling resentment on her face, he spoke.

“You are the only one who has cared for her for hours without causing a fuss from the very first day. It’s late, so stay the night. I will have a carriage ready for you in the morning.”

Luise blinked her emerald eyes.

“You’ve… decided to hire me?”

“Given the child’s special circumstances, the compensation will not be insignificant.”

Caius did not give a direct confirmation but continued speaking.

“Just make sure to pack and return early. The maids can’t handle her; she often raises her voice. I dislike noise.”

Normally, one might speak even more gently about a hunting dog. Luise’s cheeks burned as if she were being scolded, yet she could only nod.

She would have to get used to the Count’s somewhat vague way of speaking. He seemed to expect his employees to act on subtle cues rather than explicit orders.

“…Thank you for providing the carriage,” she said.

Caius resumed his meal, seemingly satisfied. While she had been dazedly scooping soup, Luise suddenly moved a large piece of lamb onto her plate.

She cut it skillfully and ate, just as proficiently as the man sitting opposite her.

Even on days when her mother only gave her thin soup, she taught her how to use all the utensils, claiming it was for the future.

She would eat well and gain strength. If she tried hard, Miriam would eventually receive better treatment.

If all he wanted was for things to stay quiet, she would one day surprise him with what she had accomplished.

Caius glanced up indifferently at her small lips chewing the meat.

The shyly reddened cheeks, the delicate lips expressing thanks, reassuring him, yet ready to disappear if needed.

Golden hair like the sun, emerald eyes. Her voice and mannerisms were so similar to Elisabeth it was almost unsettling.

Every aspect of the woman irritated him greatly.

“Take this. And swear to find me again.”

The young Caius said as he held out a jewelry box containing a pearl.

Elisabeth scolded him with a stern gaze.

“I have taught you not to give this up even if someone holds a blade to your throat. Until you come of age, this single pearl is your lifeline. Have you, wise as you are, decided to disappoint me?”

But Caius saw it.

The midwife’s hand trembling on her swollen belly.

The marquis and his wife had entered the capital just before the coup to rescue him. Even while moving countless times afterward, one of them always stayed by his side.

They called themselves servants, but to Caius, they were like parents. That made it unbearable to hear their final words.

“I cannot trust anyone else. Can the count you agreed to stay with be trusted to keep the pearl and not give me up? Someone I’ve never even met!”

So he repeatedly gave Elisabeth the jewelry box with the precious pearl in her hands.

“Survive. Lose those who pursue you, and promise to return. My life is more important than yours, more important than your child’s. No, Elisabeth? Do not entrust it to others—come back and protect me with your own hands.”

“Your Highness, I…”

“When you grow up, I will protect you. I will protect your child too. Promise me. Swear it.”

For some reason, Elisabeth hesitated, but eventually, she took the jewelry box and hid it in her bosom. Instead of swearing to return, she said:

“You must trust Count Boina. We have all risked everything for Your Highness. I apologize for putting the weight of the empire on your small shoulders… but please survive and become a remarkable adult.”

Yet after Elisabeth left, no one came to the mountain lodge.

Caius was left there as winter approached.

She opened her eyes wide. The room was still dark; the sun had not risen.

It must have been because of the young Ermolira she had met the evening before that she had dreamed of that scene.

She got up and took the water glass from the bedside. After cooling the warmth that had seeped into her fingertips from the chilled porcelain, the brazen woman flashed into her mind again.

“Well… my parents, as far as I know, were not very political people.”

Had she really spoken so casually across from him? Her indifferent voice almost fooled him.

Had he not known the marquis couple, he might have truly been deceived.

The traitorous Ermolira had survived and returned.

Was that what he had wanted? If one had to say, then yes—it was exactly that.