I was grateful for the hand extended to help me—but I was afraid.

It was true that, because of my weak resolve, I hadn’t been able to leave Louis’s side even after countless regressions. But it wasn’t as though I had never asked others for help over those many lives. It was just that everyone I’d reached out to had already been entangled with Louis.

The house steward had said that the one who sent the servant was Duke Balthazar, so that much was undoubtedly true. Unlike Louis, he was at least someone who looked into things before acting.

Still, judging by the first part of the note I’d deciphered, the sender couldn’t possibly have been the duke. The one who had entered the estate wasn’t a duke, but a servant.

And yet, if I looked at the latter half of the message, it didn’t seem like it had been sent by a servant either. The servant already belonged to this estate—waiting for me somewhere unknown made no sense.

“What am I supposed to do?”

Even if what I’d sent first was a cipher… responding with something this cryptic felt excessive.

I felt like a detective out of a mystery novel.

I sat at my desk, wracking my brain as I struggled to interpret the meaning of the note. Before I realized it, time had slipped by. Outside the window, the sun had set, night had deepened, and the sound of insects filled the air.

Could it be that the duke himself had infiltrated the estate in secret?

I had just reached that conclusion after a long bout of thinking when footsteps suddenly sounded on the stairs. Startled, I crushed the note in my hand and shoved it into my mouth.

“Mia!”

A moment later, the door burst open and Louis stormed into the room. His face was flushed red, his already small eyes half-lidded and unfocused. The stench of alcohol rolled off him.

So he’s here to throw another drunken fit.

“The Duchy of Balthazar says they’re going to sponsor our house!”

Louis staggered toward me, grinning foolishly.

“I was wondering why—and it turns out they’re an avid reader! You’re my treaaaasure! I love you!”

Moving sluggishly like a zombie, he stuck out his tongue and writhed obscenely. One look was enough to tell—he was trying to kiss me.

“Disgusting.”

I slapped Louis across the face without hesitation.

“Haaang!”

He let out a strange sound and collapsed limply onto the floor.

Crash—bang!

The things on the table slammed into his body and went tumbling down with him.

“Master! What’s going on?!”

Perhaps the noise of things crashing to the floor had been too loud.

“Miaaa! I—iii— I’m…… Mia!”

Meanwhile, Louis, who had collapsed onto the floor, crawled over to me and sprawled himself out at my feet.

“So goooood! Soooo gooood…… Aaaah!”

As if that weren’t enough, he clutched my calf and rubbed his cheek against it. He was completely out of his mind with drink.

“Get off. I said get off.”

I pressed the toe of my shoe down on his head and shoved him away.

“Aaah, Mia…… easy……!”

Far from stopping, Louis seemed to enjoy it even more, panting heavily. He even started lifting and dropping his hips against the floor like a madman.

If you couldn’t handle your liquor, you shouldn’t have drunk in the first place. What kind of disgraceful spectacle was this?

Do I even need to go through divorce proceedings—should I just stomp him to death like this?

That thought had just crossed my mind when—

“I will take him.”

The house steward, who had already come up to the room, hoisted Louis over his shoulder.

“Please rest.”

***

The next morning, the bustle starting at the crack of dawn stirred me awake.

I went over to the window and looked outside. A handful of servants were carrying luggage. Looking closer, I saw several enormous chests filled with gold, boxes brimming with expensive jewels, and rare treasures besides.

From the looks of it, they had been sent by the Duchy of Balthazar.

Why would the Duchy of Balthazar sponsor our house?
Could this be part of some larger plan?

With no way of knowing the reason, it all felt like an incomprehensible extravagance.

In any case, the house steward carefully inspected each item piled neatly on the ground, while Louis looked on, delighted at the sight of so much wealth.

Before long, Louis climbed into a carriage.

“Going off to gamble again?”

I took a sip of port wine mixed with brandy as I leisurely surveyed the estate grounds. Since it was left over from yesterday, it didn’t taste particularly good—but it was decent enough to wet my throat.

“Or maybe he’s off to pick up a new mistress.”

Once a modest amount of luggage had been loaded onto the supply carriage, the carriage carrying Louis finally set off.

Not long after, the supply wagons followed after him.

Down below, the house steward was berating the servants with a grim expression. Judging by the situation, he seemed to be scheming to siphon off some of the treasures sent from the duchy. As I clicked my tongue at the thought, the house steward’s gaze lifted—straight to the window where I stood.

Swish.

The moment our eyes met, I drew the curtain shut.

Whatever he said down there wouldn’t reach me up here anyway. And with Louis having left the estate, it meant that only female servants were permitted to enter this room. For that reason alone, no matter how I acted, he wouldn’t come upstairs.

Of course, that also meant I wouldn’t be leaving this room either.

“Now would’ve been the perfect time.”

Just yesterday, after deciphering the cipher hidden at the end of my manuscript, the Duchy of Balthazar had sent someone. That alone could be taken as a sign that the duchy was willing to help me escape this estate.

But I had no idea what price they intended to demand in return.

After all, ever since the servant from the Duchy of Balthazar slipped me that note, he hadn’t shown his face even once. For now, all I could do was wait for him to make contact first.

“I can’t just sit around waiting forever.”

My nerves were fraying.

Having an ally was better than having none—but at this rate, what good was an ally who never appeared?

If only Louis hadn’t gone out, I would’ve found some way to coax him downstairs. Then I could’ve sought out the servant myself and asked him everything I needed to know.

But with Louis gone, even sleeping required the house steward’s permission. You might think a mere servant had no right to act that way—but the house steward was the person Louis trusted most. More than that, he served as the brain for Louis’s deficient mind, and his primary duty was to keep watch over me.

That was why, whenever Louis left the estate, all authority here was handed not to me, but to the house steward.

“That idiot wouldn’t have gotten away with pretending to be a genius writer without that man.”

As long as the house steward was firmly attached to Louis’s side, carrying out my plans was next to impossible. Looking back, there were countless times when it was the house steward’s scheming that ruined my efforts. In all those past lives—despite innumerable regressions—every time I ended up trapped in this estate and died, he had been there.

Which meant the first person I needed to eliminate was the house steward—the one who served as Louis’s “intelligence.”

But how?

At present, using the Duke of Balthazar seemed to be my only viable option.

“…Ha.”

Staring at the window half-covered by the curtain, a sigh slipped out of me. Even if I resolved to make use of the duke, for now all I could do was wait for contact.

If only there were some way to communicate.

Knock, knock.

While I was mindlessly gnawing at my nails, a cautious knocking sound came from the door. Normally, the servants barged into this room regardless of my wishes, so I didn’t bother answering.

Yet even after some time passed, the person on the other side made no move to enter. They simply continued knocking, calm and measured.

“Come in.”

I spoke up reluctantly, and the door opened at once. I had just wondered whether he’d been waiting for permission when I was caught off guard by who stepped inside.

It was the servant sent from the Duchy of Balthazar—the one wrapped head to toe in bandages, giving off an oddly unsettling impression—pushing in a tray.

“……”

He stared at me silently for a moment, then released his grip on the tray. After that, he rummaged through his pocket, pulled out a small notebook, and wrote something down.

[I brought you breakfast.]

He showed me what he’d written, then gestured toward the tray with the hand that wasn’t holding the notebook. Another servant might have pointed at it rudely with a finger, but he held his hand fully open, his manner unmistakably polite.

He didn’t seem to be looking down on me.

“Thank you.”

I was a little taken aback, but I spoke as evenly as I could. On the tray were the usual light provisions—just enough to fill the stomach. A bowl of thick barley porridge at a glance, and two pieces of dry, crumbly bread. The only difference from the norm was the addition of butter and raspberry jam.

The servant lifted his notebook again and showed it to me.

[Did you check the message?]