Chapter 76: The Husband’s Funeral
January 15, 2024
“They were already sensitive about the bride price back then, but this time, it’s like you handed it over directly to Marquis Vasquez. It’s no wonder Lady Cordelia was angry.”
“Is that really something to get offended about? Why does she think of it as her bride price? That was just the cost of getting rid of Marquis Vasquez loitering around—garbage disposal fees.”
“It’s natural you don’t understand. Some things can’t be understood without having lived that kind of life.”
Baron believed it was only natural that Leonard couldn’t empathize with Cordelia’s circumstances or feelings. Though they lived under the same sky, it was no exaggeration to say they belonged to different worlds.
Unfortunately, Leonard had no ears for such worldly wisdom.
“How ungrateful. After all I did for her, how much I cherished and cared for her.”
“Care is only care if the other person feels it. If it’s one-sided, it’s just self-satisfaction.”
“There are more people who want to take me as their teacher than stars in the sky! I even accepted someone who knew nothing of magic—she should be grateful. How dare she!”
“Honestly, with someone of Lady Cordelia’s caliber, there’d be no shortage of people lining up to take her as a disciple. Take Lord Rosenbluh, for instance.”
Leonard snapped his head around to glare at Baron, unable to let a single remark pass.
“Whose side are you on?”
“My goodness. Surely you’re not upset that I, the head of House Atillay and servant to Lord Seirius of Acheron, showed a little pity for poor Lady Cordelia?”
Baron feigned exaggerated surprise. His theatrical expression was so irritating that Leonard’s lips trembled in frustration.
“…You sure are talkative today.”
“My apologies. I’m the sort who speaks the truth even with a blade to my throat.”
Baron had a knack for delivering annoying truths with a kind smile.
“If you’re that concerned, why not visit Abrams yourself?”
“Why would I go there?”
“Well, there’s no need for you to go in person, I suppose. With Belluche by her side, you’ll know where Lady Cordelia goes, even if she tries to run.”
Baron spoke as if it were obvious Cordelia would try to run away from Leonard.
Enraged, Leonard kicked him out of the room.
But even hours later, Leonard couldn’t focus on anything. He pulled a note from his pocket and read it again.
The day after their explosive fight, Leonard had been angry but intended to let things go. However, that ungrateful disciple left for Abrams without so much as a goodbye.
It had been a scheduled departure, yet a cold unease lingered. Her parting words haunted him:
“It’s probably better if I’m not your disciple anymore.”
How dare she?
Leonard argued back with the imaginary Cordelia in his head.
The bond between master and disciple was stronger than any other—stronger than blood, stronger than marriage. That relationship couldn’t be undone with a mere sentence from Cordelia.
“Just come back. I’ll make sure you understand exactly how great a blessing it was to be my disciple. Running away? She dares to even think she can…”
Wait. Didn’t she once say, back when we first met, that if she divorced, she’d learn a few support spells and become a magic appraiser or something?
Could she still be clinging to that ridiculous dream?
The anxiety, already full, ignited like dry tinder. Once the thought took hold, it spiraled uncontrollably.
Thankfully, the butler interrupted his dark thoughts.
“Marquis Elfenbaum has arrived, sir.”
“Show him in.”
“Yes, sir.”
The butler fled quickly, perhaps fearful of Leonard’s volatile mood.
Soon, Rosenbluh entered. His face, unlike usual, looked haggard.
“Thanks for making time, Leo.”
“Judging by your grim look, I take it she’s still missing.”
“…Yeah. It’s already been ten days since Lydia vanished. If it were a kidnapping, we should’ve received some kind of demand by now. But there’s been nothing. That just makes it worse. What if she’s not even alive…”
It had been more than ten days since Lydia Elfenbaum had disappeared. In the middle of the night. From within the Elfenbaum townhouse, no less.
At first, everyone assumed it was a kidnapping. She had been perfectly fine the night before, attending parties and teas. Her sudden disappearance seemed inexplicable.
But no contact came from the supposed kidnappers. Worse, her room was too clean—no signs of struggle.
That left two possibilities: Lydia left on her own, or she had been abducted and murdered.
Neither option was acceptable to Rosenbluh.
“Don’t say that. She’s alive.”
“You’re right, Leo. She’s alive. She must be.”
Rosenbluh muttered the words again and again, like a mantra.
“Any leads? Have you found anything?”
“Just a red ribbon caught in the window frame. It turns out it was hers.”
“Hm.”
“And just recently I learned—she took two sacred artifacts that were stored within Elfenbaum.”
“Sacred artifacts? What would she do with those?”
Sacred artifacts were condensed, purified magic, exponentially more powerful than standard mana stones. Leonard himself had defeated Maximilian with the help of one when his body was too weak to fight.
But for someone like Lydia—essentially a normal person—they were useless.
“That’s what I thought. But we’ve searched her room and the estate multiple times. They’re definitely gone.”
“So you’re saying… Lydia left on her own, taking sacred artifacts?”
“That’s the most hopeful scenario I can imagine.”
Of course, that theory needed a reason. Why would Lydia leave without a word?
If only he had a reason, Rosenbluh might not be burning alive with worry.
He bowed his head deeply. As siblings, they had always been incredibly close. The shock hit hard.
“Thanks again, Leo. The people you lent me are helping expand the search area.”
“I’m already looking for my own brother, so what’s one more missing person?”
“Speaking of, you still haven’t found Maximilian either. Incredible, really. He shouldn’t be able to use magic. How has he stayed hidden?”
“Seems like he found a capable helper.”
It had been some time since Maximilian escaped, but Leonard showed no sign of anxiety.
He had already uprooted Maximilian’s forces from Atillay. Maximilian had burned through all his magic. He was now no different from a regular man.
In fact, Leonard was enjoying this hunt. The true thrill of hunting lay in cornering the prey and slowly watching it die.
“I plan to leave for Yebo Delim today. If I come across any trace of Maximilian during my search, I’ll let you know.”
“You’re leaving for Yebo Delim? Why?”
“I’ll go mad if I stay still any longer.”
Rosenbluh’s voice was low. He had firmly believed Lydia would be found in a day or two. But the more time passed, the worse the fear became. Now he wasn’t even sure she was alive.
Last night, he had a nightmare—Lydia lying in a pool of blood. That was enough. He would search for her himself.
“By the way, you said Cordelia left for Abrams already?”
“Yeah.”
“When will she return? I had some things I wanted to ask.”
“…Don’t know. She’ll come back when she’s ready.”
Leonard’s voice faltered. He had assumed she would come back. But now, the word “runaway” clung stubbornly in his mind.
“Abrams is in the northeast, right?”
“Why do you ask?”
“If I’m out searching for Lydia… maybe we’ll run into each other.”
“What business could you possibly have in that backwater?”
Leonard scoffed. Rosenbluh stood, having said all he needed to say.
“I was just stopping by before I left. I’ll take my leave. See you next time.”
“Yeah. Next time—with Lydia.”
Rosenbluh didn’t answer, only offering a faint smile as he left the Atillay estate.
Meanwhile…
In Ersche, when someone dies, the tradition is to adorn the house and coffin with fresh flowers. As those flowers wilt and dry, one by one they are removed—each serving as a token of mourning.
The same went for Craig’s funeral. From the day his coffin arrived, the entire estate was filled with live flowers. The overwhelming scent permeated the halls.
Cordelia was kept busy overseeing the arrangements. There was so much to manage that, for a while, she was able to forget about Leonard.
“This is Andel Rutravin, the second son of Viscount Rutravin. He’s someone I really wanted you to meet.”
“Oh. That’s him.”
At Baron Lancaster’s introduction, Cordelia realized this man was the baron’s pick for the next count.
Andel gave Cordelia a polite greeting.
“My condolences on the passing of Count Abrams. I’m Andel Rutravin.”
For the next twenty minutes, he explained that if Cordelia agreed to support him, he’d make sure she left the estate well taken care of.
“I have a small villa in Rangdé. You’ll be able to rest comfortably there. And I’ll give you 50,000 linkits a year for the next ten years.”
“You’re quite generous.”
Coincidentally—or perhaps not—the amount he offered was exactly what had been paid for her when she was sold here.
Cordelia found that strangely amusing. And bitter.
Ouch. Well, at least it would go to her instead of her family