Chapter 72: My Husband’s Funeral
January 11, 2024
The reason Emblie chose Vasquez was obvious. It was because Cordelia was his student—and also because she was a Vasquez.
People wouldn’t see Dennis Vasquez and Cordelia Vasquez as entirely separate.
In other words, some of the blame for Maximilian’s escape would be placed on Cordelia as well.
It was ridiculous, but that was reality. It was also the reason Leonard was trying to let this incident blow over quietly.
A weakness.
Anton seemed to have figured out what that weakness was.
“Don’t worry. Your brother will be released after a brief investigation anyway.”
“…But is that really okay?”
“You said it yourself. Vasquez is just a scapegoat.”
Cordelia didn’t have much affection left for Dennis, but she didn’t hate him enough to want him rotting in prison for a crime he didn’t commit.
“I’m sorry for bothering you with this.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s not even your fault. More importantly, send an obituary to the Abrams estate. Include the accident report from the guards, so there won’t be any gossip.”
“Abrams will be in an uproar when they get the news. A count died with no heir.”
“Which also means they don’t care about you at all anymore. If you had even a drop of Abrams blood like Jared Abrams, they’d be swarming like wild dogs. But no one will care about a former countess. So just finish the funeral quickly and come back.”
“Okay, I will. Oh, come to think of it, I guess I’ll be returning to the Vasquez name?”
Normally, a widow kept her husband’s name. But if there were no children and a distant relative inherited the family title, things changed. To avoid potential disputes, the wife would return to her original surname.
“Never thought I’d be Cordelia Vasquez again.”
“Why?”
“It just feels strange. When I left Vasquez, I thought I’d die as an Abrams. When I got married and left, my father told me never to return—not even in death.”
“…Really?”
“That’s why I begged Master to teach me magic. When Craig died, I had nowhere to go back to. I had to survive somehow.”
“You have me now.”
“What?”
“A place to go back to, I mean.”
Leonard said it lightly, but the words struck deep in Cordelia’s heart.
A place to return to.
When had Leonard become that place for her? Just a few months ago, when they’d first met, it would’ve been unthinkable.
“Master.”
“What?”
“Just… thank you. You ended up in Craig’s body by chance, and that’s how I became a mage. Otherwise, I’d still be stuck in Abrams, walking on eggshells.”
“It’s fate.”
“What?”
Leonard spoke more seriously than usual.
“You and I meeting wasn’t a coincidence. There’s an old saying among mages: there’s no such thing as coincidence—only inescapable fate.”
“Oh, Maximilian said something like that once. Fate, destiny…”
Cordelia let the word fate roll around her tongue, finding it strangely romantic. As she savored the sound, Leonard stood up.
“Yeah. A cruel fate where I’m stuck for life with a dumb student.”
“…Did you have to include the ‘dumb’ part?”
“Why not? It’s an upgrade from ‘exceptionally dumb.’”
“Pfft.”
Cordelia pouted. He never let anything slide.
“For the next few days, just stay holed up in your room and work on your assignments. I’ll handle the funeral arrangements. Don’t go out if you can help it.”
“I was planning to stay in anyway.”
Following Leonard’s advice, Cordelia stayed in her room for about two days.
Word of her husband’s death had spread quietly, eventually reaching Rosenblur. He sent her a letter filled with kind condolences. Cordelia replied that they should meet after the funeral in Abrams.
Wearing the mourning dress Layla had prepared, Cordelia stepped out of her room for the first time in days.
All the servants’ attention immediately turned to her.
“Lady Cordelia, are you all right?”
“I… I’m fine.”
Cordelia put on the sorrowful expression she’d practiced so diligently and lowered her gaze.
The attendants at Atillay had always treated her with care, but now they handled her like fragile glass. Whenever she sighed, they panicked, unsure of what to do.
“How are the preparations for heading to Abrams?”
“All supplies have been loaded. Once your personal items are packed, we can depart immediately.”
“Thank you for taking care of it, Alex.”
“It’s my duty, my lady. Is there anything else you need?”
“I’d like to go out for a bit today.”
“I’ll have the carriage prepared right away.”
Alex didn’t even ask where she was going. He simply called a servant and summoned the carriage.
Cordelia boarded the carriage with a black lace veil covering her face.
She headed to Rals’s Horseshoe, where her brother was reportedly staying. It was a high-end inn located in a noble district.
“Welcome to Rals’s Horseshoe. Are you here to dine or to stay?”
“I’m here to see my brother—Dennis Vasquez.”
“Ah, the young Lord Vasquez. Let me take you to him.”
Cordelia followed the staff member.
Looking around, she noted that even the stair railings and wallpaper were made from premium materials. The place could easily compete with a noble townhouse.
“How much is it to stay here per night?”
“About two hundred Linkits, including meals.”
“Two hundred a night?”
“Yes. Of course, for long-term guests like Lord Vasquez, we offer a discounted rate.”
“Dennis is staying here long-term? For how long?”
“As far as I know, nearly twenty days now.”
Four thousand Linkits wasn’t an outrageous amount—but it also wasn’t pocket change for the Vasquez family.
Cordelia couldn’t help but wonder: how on earth was Dennis affording this?
“Here we are. One moment, please. Lord Vasquez, you have a visitor.”
Before the staff member could even finish, the door flew open. Dennis’s face lit up when he saw her.
“Sis! You came. Come in, quick!”
He pulled out a ten-Linkit coin from his pocket and handed it to the staff member like it was second nature.
“Thanks a lot.”
“Thank you, sir.”
How generous. The staff member beamed as he left.
Cordelia walked past Dennis into the room. Though small, it was cozy and elegant—honestly better than the Vasquez estate.
“What took you so long? I’ve been waiting forever.”
“Did you already forget that my husband died?”
“Oh, right… yeah.”
His nonchalant tone was outrageous. He didn’t even seem to notice her mourning attire. Cordelia didn’t point it out and just sat on the sofa. Dennis quickly sat across from her.
“Did you talk to the Margrave of Atillay about me? What did he say?”
“Before that—how are you even staying here?”
“What do you mean?”
“How can you afford to stay somewhere that costs two hundred Linkits a night?”
“Are you saying I don’t belong in a place like this?”
Dennis shot back, visibly offended.
“I’m not judging. I just want to know. I know our family doesn’t have that kind of money.”
“Well, I get paid by the Order now.”
“You’ve only been in the Order for less than a month. When would you have received a salary? And what about the armor and sword? Those aren’t cheap.”
“Why are you grilling me? I can handle myself, okay?”
He kept dodging her questions, which only made Cordelia more suspicious.
“Just a few months ago, Father kept pressuring me to send money… So what was all that about his ankle?”
“You really don’t know? The Margrave of Atillay crushed his ankle.”
“What?”
“And then, like some kind of pity offering, he gave him a bit of money. Ha. I didn’t believe those rumors about him being a snake, but now I get it. Sis, you need to wake up.”
“Why would Master do that?”
“It’d make sense if there were a reason, but there wasn’t. He just lashed out at Father for no reason.”
“No way… Master wouldn’t do that. Father must’ve—”
“Don’t tell me you’re taking his side? Sis! It’s Father whose ankle got broken—not that guy! Do you know what else Atillay said? He told Father to stay away from you. And then he offered money in exchange. Tell me—does that sound sane to you?”
The more she spoke with Dennis, the more confused Cordelia became. She wanted to believe her brother was lying, but the evidence…
“You’re saying Master paid Father to stay away from me?”
“That’s right.”
“…And now you’re staying here using that money?”
“What?”
“You’re staying at this inn using the money he gave to keep you all away from me?”
“What are you talking about? I told you, it’s from my knight salary.”
Dennis avoided her gaze. That only confirmed her suspicions.
The Silver Stag Order was prestigious, but the salary was mostly symbolic. It wasn’t nearly enough to fund this.
Cordelia felt overwhelmed—was it anger, disappointment, or shame? She couldn’t tell.
“Where’s Father?”
“Why? You’re not seriously thinking of going to him, are you? Are you crazy? You can’t see him!”
“Why not? Are you worried that if I do, you won’t get any more money from Atillay?”
“That’s not it…”
I knew she’d learn about the payments, but I’d worried she’d learn in a much worse way. I’m relieved