Chapter 106:
A week had passed.
After being hounded day and night by the Minister of Finance, Count Garcia returned home utterly exhausted.
He sat in his drawing room and lit a cigar.
“Damn it.”
His ten years of tax evasion had finally caught up to him—worse, the evidence was solid. There was no way out.
Grinding his teeth on the cigar, the Count closed his eyes, trying to think of a solution.
His butler, who had loyally served the Garcia family his whole life, glanced at the Count in concern. The Count looked haggard—his eyes sunken and his cheeks gaunt. It was a shocking sight.
‘Things were already bad, and now this…’
The misfortunes that had befallen the Garcia family were like a storm threatening to erase its 800-year legacy.
The butler sighed inwardly.
They had two choices:
- Pay the evaded taxes and let the Count take full blame and go to prison.
- Pay ten times the amount of evaded taxes to avoid prison, at the cost of selling off all their property.
Either way, the family was on the verge of ruin.
When the Count opened his eyes, he spoke.
“Butler.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Go to the bank. Secure as much money as you can through a loan.”
“…Understood.”
The butler assumed the Count had chosen to pay and avoid prison. But then came the shock.
“And also, look into a merchant caravan that’s leaving for another country.”
“Pardon…?”
“Why would you need a caravan, sir?”
“That’s not like you to question orders.”
“My apologies.”
“Just do it.”
The butler didn’t move.
“Are you abandoning the Garcia family, my lord?”
The Count lit another cigar and replied coldly.
“I must.”
“If I stay, the family falls with me.”
To him, neither option had been acceptable. So, he chose a third: escape.
The butler, his voice trembling, asked, “What about asking Lady Diana for help?”
“No. The situation has changed too much. Even if I pay, I won’t be allowed to stay in the capital. We don’t have time to rebuild those relationships.”
The Count glanced at the butler.
“You and your family should come with me.”
“No, my lord. It’s best if you don’t attract suspicion. I will stay behind.”
The butler bowed and left.
***
The plan went smoothly.
They disguised the escape as a money arrangement to avoid prison. The Count escaped through a secret passage before dawn, mounted a horse the butler had prepared, and looked back at his mansion one last time.
‘I thought I’d live and die here…’
He knew the family might never recover from this.
But staying meant losing everything. Leaving meant survival.
At the meeting point, he joined a group of over 50 people.
“Ah, you must be the noble who asked to travel with us. I’m John, leader of this caravan.”
They shook hands, and the group set off, successfully passing through the capital’s inspection.
They reached a nearby town, where John suggested stopping for a meal.
The Count, unfamiliar with commoner inns, sat still, not touching the food.
“You should eat. It’ll be hard to find decent meals where we’re going,” John advised.
Reluctantly, the Count began to eat.
But as he neared the end of his meal, a person in a white cloak sat in front of him.
“Did you enjoy your meal?”
The voice was familiar.
Startled, the Count stood so quickly that his chair fell.
The cloaked figure removed her hood.
Golden eyes gleamed like a hawk’s.
“Marchioness Mayer…”
The Count tried to run, but disguised knights grabbed him and forced him back into the chair.
“Your butler is truly loyal,” the Marchioness said coldly.
The Count’s face twisted. He realized instantly that his butler had betrayed him.
“A loyal man wouldn’t betray his master.”
“A loyal man would save the family from a traitorous master,” she replied calmly.
He clenched his fists but tried to change the subject.
“Why are you here, Marchioness? I’d expect someone like Duke Harold.”
The Marchioness chuckled—not from amusement, but from fury.
“Melonie.”
“…Melonie?”
He recalled it—it was Diana’s mother’s name.
“She was my niece.”
“…!”
She grabbed him by the throat with surprising strength. He struggled, but the knights held him down.
Just when he thought he’d die, she let go.
He gasped for air and tried to stand—but his body wouldn’t respond.
‘Was the food drugged…?’
His vision blurred.
The Marchioness looked down at him with icy eyes.
“Next time you wake up, Count, you’ll wish you had just gone to prison.”
His consciousness slipped away.
And the screen faded to black.
Yea that butler wants change. For the better~
Lovely, get payback for your poor niece and grand niece.
Yay grandma!