Chapter 48
“I understand you’re upset, Ann. But the Lord trusts you, so don’t worry too much.”
“Yes.”
“Come on, let’s go.”
The butler and head maid, ledger in hand, headed solemnly toward the office.
Every evening after dinner, they reported the day’s events to Hannibal.
Since Ann was the one who actually managed the household, Patrick’s role was limited to giving an overview, while the meticulous ledger inspection fell squarely on Ann’s shoulders.
“Don’t bother using cheap ingredients for the servants’ meals. It barely saves a few coins anyway.”
The servants usually ate whatever ingredients the masters no longer wanted or leftovers from cooking.
Expensive cheeses or meats were only eaten if any was left after a party.
“It’s not about being cheap—we’ve always eaten leftovers. There’s no separate budget allocated for the servants’ meals or expenses.”
“Then allocate one. Make sure they eat meat at least once a week. Don’t skimp on the food budget.”
Hannibal looked genuinely surprised, then immediately changed his stance.
Patrick gazed at his master with an expression full of admiration, but Ann quickly turned away—only for Hannibal to suddenly suck in a sharp breath.
“What is this?”
They weren’t ledger entries, but separate invoices.
Patrick, saying they had arrived in today’s mail, had handed them to Hannibal along with the other post.
“Bring Victoria here. Now.”
A few letters in, Hannibal’s forehead veins were bulging.
Ann peeked at the papers he tossed down—each one was a bill for shopping expenses.
Dresses, shoes, jewelry, food… and far more items than what Victoria had actually brought back to the estate.
Ann immediately pictured the young lady’s two “friends” in her mind.
“It seems the young lady’s been taken advantage of again.”
“What?”
“I think she’s paying for her friends as well. You should ask her.”
As soon as Ann said this, Victoria arrived.
“Isn’t that what friends do? The better-off one pays. Besides, if you mention the Clayde name, you get lots of things for free.”
“Victoria, your father will be here soon to clear out Tegenes’ funds. Don’t add to it yourself.”
Hannibal pressed his forehead and sighed.
“But I’m going shopping tomorrow! I’m meeting Sir Sandor, too.”
Ann, Patrick, and Hannibal all shot their heads up in shock.
“You’re not spending money on Sandor too, are you?”
Hannibal’s mouth twitched in outrage. Even Ann and Patrick, for once, were in full agreement with him.
Only then did Victoria seem to realize something was wrong. She fiddled with her skirt and muttered,
“I have the most money, don’t I? I’m from a lord’s family.”
“You have no money. And I’m making sure Clayde won’t give you a single coin from now on.”
“Just until tomorrow, please?”
Victoria pleaded, but Hannibal didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow.
“Young lady, a man doesn’t make the woman he likes pay for him. And Sir Sandor is from a southern landowning family—he’s no pauper! How could you… how could you possibly sponge off—pardon me, how could you let him sponge off you?!”
Even Patrick, normally the most non-interfering of servants, was indignant enough to burst out emotionally.
“I didn’t always pay for everything. Sir Sandor buys me things too—flowers, flower crowns, bracelets—”
“Flower crowns wilt in two days! And bracelets—don’t tell me you mean that cheap bead bracelet you were wearing the other day?! How dare he give that to you—”
“Butler, calm yourself.”
Hannibal stood with his back to them, staring out the window. Patrick’s fists were clenched as he fumed like a boiling kettle.
In the end, Ann stepped in.
“So… did I do something wrong again?”
“No, this isn’t your fault, young lady.”
Ann positioned herself between Victoria and the two men, offering a compromise.
“Here’s what you do tomorrow: let your friends and Sir Sandor pay. Let them treat you to lunch and tea. Tell them you’ve spent all your allowance and will have to rely on them for a while. They’ll understand—you’ve paid for them plenty already.”
“You’re right! They should return the favor. And Sir Sandor, of course!”
Encouraged by Ann’s words, Victoria left the office full of resolve.
Ann quietly shut the door behind her and exhaled.
“That’s your solution?”
Hannibal frowned, thinking Ann spoiled Victoria.
“It’s a stopgap measure,” she admitted honestly. It’s no real solution at all.
“I’ll have to tell Grandmother about this. Who even introduced her to girls like that?”
“With the young lady’s current mindset, she could have this problem no matter who she met. She sees something she likes, and she’ll lend her name or her money without a second thought.”
“She’s not that stupid.”
“She’s just inexperienced. She’s never had proper interactions or built genuine friendships.”
Their dry exchange of words was laced with sparks.
Had any servant ever spoken so bluntly to their master? Patrick, fearing Hannibal’s temper, quickly intervened.
“Well, by tomorrow we’ll know whether they truly care for her. She’s just starting her social education a little late, that’s all.”
Ann lowered her gaze and folded her hands meekly.
“The butler is right. We’ll take our leave now.”
As they left the office, Patrick spoke in a low voice.
“Ann, it’s good that you care for the young lady, but don’t overstep.”
“Butler…”
“We’re attendants and servants. It’s not our place to pass judgment on our master’s decisions.”
That philosophy had kept Patrick—who had served Clayde’s masters for two generations—alive and well. And for a servant, it was the only way to survive.
Ann had wanted to live like that too… yet somehow, she kept ending up acting differently.
“Yes, I’ll try.”
It was the only answer she could give.
The next day, Victoria lost her “friends”—and, ironically, her affection for Sir Sandor swelled two- or threefold.
“They only wanted to spend my money! Shameless little hussies!”
As soon as Victoria said she was broke, they became distant, didn’t even buy their own things while shopping, and let Sir Sandor pay for the meal.
“How could you make Sir Sandor pay?! I feel so bad for him. Ann, you were right.”
“…Pardon?”
“Now I know who really cares for me. Sir Sandor truly cherishes me.”
Ann thought Victoria was still painfully naïve.
Illegitimate or not, she was the only Clayde daughter—and she’d already proven at the last party that she and Hannibal weren’t on bad terms. Even married, she’d be the wife of a southern landowner’s heir.
Anyone could see that a few meals and shopping sprees were a small price to secure ties with Victoria Clayde.
And she was sure Dello Sandor knew that too.
“Now that I’ve confirmed it, I trust Sir Sandor, Ann.”
Watching Victoria fall asleep with a blissful smile only made Ann more troubled.
She needed solid proof—something that would make Victoria truly see Dello Sandor’s intentions.
But the mother and daughter coming to Tegenes still wouldn’t arrive for a while.
Sandor traded actively with both Luto and Haiman—surely there was something to dig up.
Ann racked her brain, but nothing came to mind.
I should’ve paid more attention to the news. Shouldn’t have just skimmed anything about the West. Not that she could’ve known much, cooped up in the duke’s estate back then.
Lost in thought, her wandering led her to the annex.
“Haa…”
She sighed the moment she sat down on an empty bench.
“You’ll put a hole in the ground at this rate.”
Hannibal’s sudden voice made her spring to her feet.
“My lord?”
She must have come here looking for a quiet place—was she disturbing him? Ann quickly moved to leave, but Hannibal stopped her.
“If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll go.”
“No, I’ll go.”
Servants moved for their masters, not the other way around.
But Hannibal gestured for her to stay and sat down on the bench beside her.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt your rest. If you’re fine with it, stay.”
If she stood, it would feel like she was protesting, so Ann awkwardly sat back down.
“Haa…”
Hannibal sat with arms crossed, frowning. Ann sat sideways, exhaling toward the ground. Their eyes met.
“What’s troubling you?”
“…Pardon?”
“You’ve been sighing for a while now.”
Was it the summer heat? His normally curt voice almost sounded like concern.
