07. Waiting for Destruction

 Booo—

The horn announcing the ship’s arrival vibrated. Izer, who was walking along the salt-filled harbor, turned his head to the side. Three flags fluttered atop the revealed vessel. 

 Heinrich Montes spoke in a satisfied tone.

“Just in time, our queen is coming in.” 

 Seafarers compare the sea to a woman. And amusingly, they compare numerous ships to women as well. Perhaps they hope the sea and ships will become jealous of the sailors. 

 If they truly wanted safe voyages, wouldn’t it make more sense to give ships sturdy male names? 

 “How long has that ship been sailing?” 

 “Five months. Two and a half months to go, a week for docking and rest, and two months to return.” 

 “That’s long.” 

 “The route isn’t particularly good.” 

 Izer muttered.

“Ships can’t even enter Fairville anyway.” 

 James III, fed up with Fairville’s misconduct, responded by barely exporting any national goods to Fairville except for war reparation items. 

 It was unfortunate for Fairville’s incompetent leadership that Treven’s king and officials were skilled at finding loopholes within the bounds of the agreement. 

 They somehow managed to obtain Chesterfield’s timber. Not through direct trade that could minimize commission fees, but through a somewhat complicated distribution process of importing from one country and exporting to another. 

 Naturally, prices rose. 

 Not all that money flows into Chesterfield. But Izer judged that an appropriate price increase was good. According to market principles, higher prices mean lower demand. 

 However, that only applied firstly when there was competition, and secondly when the item in question was detached from food, clothing, and shelter. There was no timber anywhere on the continent that surpassed Chesterfield’s coniferous forests, hardened by repeated freezing and thawing. And there was also no one who could live without houses and furniture. 

 The two walked among workers busy loading cargo onto the ship. The summer sailors smelled of salt-preserved fish. 

 Izer, who had been staring somewhere, asked.

“Is the increased accident rate of ships also due to the unstable route?” 

 “What accidents?” 

 “There.” 

 Heinrich’s expression hardened as he looked where Izer gestured. 

 “That woman has come again.” 

 “‘Again’?” 

 “She comes almost weekly to make trouble. Young Duke, you need not concern yourself. Soon the servants will come to handle it.” 

 ‘It,’ ‘handle’ — all terms treating her like an object. And a very insignificant one at that. 

 Izer too responded with an expressionless face.

“Let her be. It’s not an unpleasant enough sight to be bothered by.” 

 The haggard-faced woman wore a thin wooden board around her neck. Who knows how long she had worn it — bruises marked where the rope attached to the board had rubbed against her neck. She seemed to plead with every passerby to look, but most ignored her gestures and hurried past. 

 Izer read the writing on the board.

“It says ‘My husband died on Montes’s ship.'” 

 “The sea is a harsh place. The wages they receive include the price of their lives. It’s stated in the sailors’ employment contracts. And one shouldn’t board a ship without such resolve.” 

 It was a cold answer befitting of Montes. Izer turned his gaze to the vast sea, suppressing his rising nausea. 

 Heinrich Montes was a level above Harris Chesterfield. The tenacity to claw his way up from the bottom, the venom to lick someone’s feet if necessary, and the cruel nature to put a gun to their skull rather than their feet the moment he stood above them. 

 However, he was objective enough to make the youth he had nearly beaten to death his son-in-law. Here, ‘objective’ meant displaying superhuman ability in viewing each incident independently. 

 To Heinrich Montes, Izer of 1784 was unimportant. He focused only on the fact that Izer of 1790 was a Chesterfield. 

 He seemed unconcerned even by the fact that his old friend the Duke found Izer unsatisfactory. Evidence lay in his steady maintenance of the marriage talks between Izer and Ophelia, which everyone whispered had fallen through. 

 ‘He recognized his own kind.’ 

 Even someone Percy’s age knows that weeds have stronger vitality than beautiful flowers. Heinrich had clearly judged who would ultimately claim the seat of Chesterfield. 

 In a way, it was a natural decision. 

 Human life is finite. The Duke of Chesterfield is no exception. Realistically, it’s impossible to pass the successor position to a snot-nosed kid instead of a grown adopted son. 

 Unless Izer commits a massive blunder or dies before the Duke, it’s only a matter of time before the Duke’s position comes to him. 

 Perhaps sensing Izer’s discomfort, Heinrich added an unsolicited explanation.

“We provided sufficient compensation to the bereaved families. We paid a year’s worth of wages. When accidents happen to cargo ships, it’s a big blow to our side too. It means we’ve disappointed customers who trusted us with their goods.” 

 “I see. I’m curious which customer’s goods were on the ship that woman’s husband was on.” 

 “It was textiles entrusted by Count Winston’s family.” 

 “……I see. That must have been troublesome with Count Winston.” 

 “Fortunately, the Count was very understanding. Of course, we compensated for the damages on our end too. Though it should never happen, but…… if something similar were to happen to Chesterfield, I’ll ensure you suffer no losses.” 

 Instead of responding to those words, Izer asked.

“When did this accident happen?” 

 “The departure was half a year ago. Only God knows the exact time of the accident.” 

 “……” 

 This wasn’t the first or second accident on Montes’s ships. Over eighty percent of them were related to the Winston family. 

 However, finding commonalities was difficult. It would be understandable if all those damaged by the ship accidents had bad relationships with Winston. But as in this case, most of the damage was actually on Winston’s side. 

 These strange accidents that Prince Edmond had pointed out as suspicious had been repeating since Winston’s previous generation, who passed away right after the war. 

 Heinrich changed the subject.

“Shouldn’t you be seriously thinking about marriage now?” 

 “I haven’t yet recovered from my mother’s passing. Lord Montes, please don’t be too hasty.” 

 “The late lady also wanted the Young Duke’s marriage.” 

 “She wanted my marriage, but didn’t care much about ‘who’ I would marry.” 

 Despite the blatant implication that he was busy trying to break things off with his daughter, Heinrich remained steadfast. 

 “It would be good for you personally to marry quickly too. Pardon my presumption, but the Duke doesn’t particularly approve of you.” 

 “……”

“People will once again recognize who the next master of Chesterfield will be just by the Young Duke’s wedding. You will solidify your position, and we will maintain our connection with Chesterfield.” 

 “You speak of your daughter exactly like a trading commodity.” 

 “That’s what marriage is all about.” 

 Heinrich, who had been speaking coldly, began.

“A man might turn his eyes to other women. Mistresses are common too. Though Ophelia is quite the jealous child, if that concerns the Duke, I can try to persuade my daughter.” 

 This family torments him in various ways. The daughter who absolutely won’t tolerate her husband having a mistress, and the father who thinks what’s a mere mistress as long as he becomes his daughter’s husband. 

 Izer held back a smirk.

“I hope you reach an amicable agreement with your daughter.” 

 The fishy smell of the sea felt nauseating. As if a corpse had washed up somewhere. 

 ***

 It was late summer, with the blazing sun making its final struggle. Izer, appearing from behind the mansion, nodded slightly.

“Miss Berienne, may I see you for a moment?” 

 Celian, who had been doing embroidery in the tree shade, turned toward Percy. The child who had been lying down drawing straightened his back and sat up. 

 “Teacher, it seems brother has something important to tell you.” 

 “I’ll be right back. I’m sorry.” 

 Behind the mansion where she followed him, there was no one. This was expected. His hands, sudden but never rough, wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. 

 He buried his sharp nose bridge in her cleavage and nuzzled. A maid heading to the backyard saw the closely pressed couple and hurriedly turned and disappeared. 

 Celian thought with resignation.

‘As long as Percy doesn’t see.’ 

 It wouldn’t be good for a child’s emotional development to see his respected brother groping a servant in broad daylight. While she was thinking this, her lips parted. 

 Only after sharing breaths for a while did Izer pull away.

“It’s been hours since I returned, why didn’t you come greet me?” 

 His voice was cold today too. However, the meaning within it was like a puppy upset because it had waited for its owner but received no acknowledgment. 

 Celian lowered her eyes.

“I was preparing the young master’s snacks. I was planning to go up in the evening.” 

 “I suppose I should be grateful you were planning to come up voluntarily, even if it was in the evening.” 

 “I didn’t know you would wait. I’m sorry.” 

 Their relationship had become extremely strange.