Chapter 19 – The End of the War  

At the end of the central corridor of the Viscount’s residence, towards the innermost northern part, there was a massive walnut door.

On that door was an eagle with its wings spread wide, soaring, its eyes so vivid that the young boy of the Viscount family could not carelessly reach out his arms above it and stood frozen in front of it for a long time.

The raptor above the door had not dulled at all since his distant childhood.

However, the Viscount’s son had grown enough not to feel choked by the oppressive aura of that door.

Ansel, who knocked neatly, soon stepped boldly into the office of the first Viscount Monmouth, William Blaine.

The inside of the door was filled, as always, with the heavy smell of leather and the sharp scent of formaldehyde.

Over that, the air of the office, enriched with tobacco fragrance, gave a peculiar sense of intimidation to those who entered.

What made the still space even more eerie, as if time had stopped, were the taxidermied animals.

A hawk with its wings spread, a roaring bear, a black leopard baring its teeth, and a lion.

All of them were creatures hunted by the Viscount Monmouth.

Looking into their dull eyes, one couldn’t help but recall the saying that history is written by the victors.

Only the dead can see the end of the war, they said.

Ansel felt as if he could finally understand where the gaze of the stiffened beasts was directed.

Now that he was about to leave the Monmouth mansion where he had lived all his life.

“From Longfield, you say.”

The Viscount, seated in front of the heavy mahogany table, spoke after a long silence.

The large man, seated under the head of a giant stag, looked at his only son with eyes as sharp as a well-honed blade.

“You want to stay with your grandfather.”

“Yes. Isn’t the mansion too large for him to live alone?”

Despite Ansel’s proper answer, the Viscount remained silent for some reason. He seemed lost in thought.

In the meantime, his golden eyes were as piercing as those of a bird of prey watching its quarry.

The old Earl, who had never left the capital of the kingdom except during wartime, moved to the Longfield villa right after the first wife of Viscount Monmouth passed away.

The old man, who was pathologically devoted to his only daughter, left behind everything he had built as soon as she disappeared from the world.

The Earl of Huntington’s long-standing opposition to his daughter’s marriage to William Blaine was, in fact, only natural.

The man his daughter fell in love with was, coincidentally, a soldier and a cold-hearted man without any warmth.

He couldn’t give his precious daughter to such a man.

But the Earl, unable to ignore Helen’s nightly tearful pleas, eventually permitted the marriage.

Because William, being the second son of a Marquis, could not inherit a title, the Earl even went directly to the royal family to request a title for Monmouth.

To make his precious daughter Helen live as a noblewoman.

However, a few years later, when his daughter tragically passed away, the Earl lost all meaning in life. All that remained for the old man was doubt and anger.

His hatred for Viscount Monmouth, who took a new wife less than a year after Helen’s death, was especially intense.

Of course, for the Viscount, it was necessary to resolve the deepening emotional rift for the sake of inheritance and the family’s honor.

Thus, he came up with the idea of sending his son to the Earl every summer.

The old lion of Longfield would grind his teeth just at the thought of his daughter’s husband.

If the Viscount extended his hand first, the old man, despite his physical discomfort, might even point a gun at him.

But he couldn’t do that to his grandson, who resembled his daughter.

Reluctantly, he allowed him to stay by his side, and as time passed, his feelings for him grew fond, just as they had for Helen. That was the Viscount’s judgment.

And his prediction was correct.

It was surprising enough to learn that the Earl had allowed Ansel to bring commoner children to the mansion, but he even agreed to let Ansel and his wife stay at Fairmont House.

Moreover…

“I have obtained permission. The same goes for that family.”

The Bailey family, those insignificant people, were allowed to cause a commotion in the mansion.

‘That stubborn old man…’

The Viscount had somewhat guessed that the Earl would come to cherish Ansel beyond simply acknowledging him as his grandson, but it seemed he had grown fond of more than just Ansel.

In fact, the Viscount also agreed that the eldest daughter of that insignificant family was quite commendable.

He had no intention of allowing his only child to marry just any woman simply because she was his choice.

“The old man seems to have taken quite a liking to that commoner family.”

The Viscount muttered in a sarcastic tone, curling one corner of his mouth before quickly hardening his face.

His next words were colder than ice.

“But I don’t recall ordering you to move into that mansion and win over your grandfather.”

“No, you did not.”

“That means there’s no need for that, Ansel.”

Ansel replied calmly.

“I understand. I simply judged it as something I should willingly do. Improving relations with my grandfather is of utmost importance to our family.”

“Hmm…”

The Viscount, who had let out a low hum, slowly stroked his chin.

His son, who had always been stiff and rigid since losing his mother, had recently become unusually talkative.

“So, I intend to act as a mediator. To eliminate long-standing discord and ensure a smooth succession of what he has built.”

His attitude was not only admirable but almost noble. Naturally, the Viscount Monmouth sensed a peculiar incongruity. For a man born a cold-hearted soldier, it was not difficult.

“Admirable words, but how about living in the capital after marriage?”

“…”

“There’s no need to rush the succession. For now, it’s more important to continue your activities in front of the royal family. This mansion will soon be yours, so stay here comfortably. If you want a place to live with your wife alone, I can arrange a new mansion nearby…”

“No.”

For a moment, the Viscount’s eyes sharpened like a blade.

It was indeed rare for his taciturn and elegant son to contradict his father’s words.

Moreover, the rudeness of interrupting his words was enough to irritate the Viscount.

“…I apologize.”

It seemed to be an unintentional mistake, as Ansel’s previously upright head dropped in dismay.

Soon, a polite voice followed.

“But I feel a heavy sense of responsibility as the grandson of the Earl of Huntington and the sole heir of Monmouth. Fulfilling that responsibility is more important to me than marriage. So please allow it.”

Ansel’s gaze, which had been directed downward, finally met his father’s eyes.

“I will not disappoint you, Father.”

* * *

It was an early morning, waking up earlier than usual due to tension.

Eloise threw open the damp curtains. As the musty dust fell, a pale lemon-colored sunlight eagerly streamed in.

Suppressing a yawn, she opened the window, letting fresh air swirl around the room.

Behind her, stretching like a lazy cat, the structure of the room, which she hadn’t observed closely the night before, was revealed in the bright light.

The floor, which creaked with every step, was covered with an old carpet.

It was undoubtedly filled with dust, just like the curtains.

However, the fabric that added warmth to the cold space didn’t seem entirely bad.

In fact, the desk, chair, and the single sofa covered in thin striped fabric all looked old and dusty, but Eloise didn’t despair.

“This isn’t bad at all.”

Muttering bravely as if making a resolution, Eloise took off her thin nightgown and changed into a brick-colored poplin dress.

She braided her hair, which her sister used to lovingly comb, and after stretching once more, she began to clean the room.

The summer air in the capital was cooler than that of Maybury.

But it wasn’t something to think badly of. Even if it was a bit cold, even if Ansel Blaine wasn’t here, it was clearly summer outside.

“A summer that only begins when he comes. It’s time to forget such an arrogant season.”

Though it wasn’t a morning covered in the scent of roses, her sister and he weren’t here.

Her family wasn’t here either.

It meant she didn’t have to worry every moment about her unforgivable feelings being discovered.

So Eloise didn’t dislike the free summer of the capital. She might even come to like it more and more.

No matter how long it took, the more seasons she spent here, the more the lingering emotions would gradually fade.

After finishing the cleaning, she went down to the first floor, where Mrs. Mullich was knitting in an armchair.

Her mean and wrinkled cat was sleeping on her lap.

“Good morning, Mrs. Mullich.”

Eloise greeted calmly, just as her sister Sarah would.

She was careful not to run down the stairs, lest the lady insult the house again.

The old woman, pushing her glasses up her protruding nose, glanced at Eloise and returned a curt response.

“Have breakfast.”

Eloise couldn’t hide her oddly sorrowful heart. It wasn’t that she expected a lively and affectionate morning greeting like Mrs. Hearst’s, but this was Mrs. Mullich’s house.

If this was her way, as a boarder, she had to comply quietly.

“Aren’t you going to eat with me?”

Hiding her lonely feelings and pretending to be nonchalant, she asked, only to receive a look of disbelief.

Although she knew Mrs. Mullich wasn’t a very kind person, it seemed she was even grumpier in the morning.

‘…Maybe she has low blood pressure.’

Feeling awkward about becoming a person who disturbed the lady’s work, Eloise headed to the kitchen behind the stairs, fidgeting with her hands.