Chapter 32

Walking down the corridor, Mrs. Colden kept stealing glances at Lea. However soon this mistress might disappear, curiosity was hard to suppress.

Really, why on earth did the master marry someone like this.

By any objective measure, their master Owen was a remarkable match. Not simply a matter of rank or wealth. This young duke didn’t spend his time chasing women or calling friends over for drink and hunting the way other young nobles did.

It wasn’t only noble ladies who had tried to catch Owen’s eye. Several young and pretty maids had made attempts as well. Marriage was too much to hope for, but becoming his lover would have been an extraordinary stroke of luck. Yet as far as Mrs. Colden knew, Owen had never once been swayed by any of it. He was so clean in his dealings with women that one might wonder whether he had any interest in them at all.

Some among the servants had even gone around saying the duke might live alone for the rest of his life. And then the man they had thought would be alone forever had announced a marriage out of nowhere, and not to a beautiful young lady or a member of a well-known noble family, but to a bedraggled woman who had appeared from nowhere. Talk was inevitable.

“My lady. The master isn’t in the library, so he must be in the study. This way, please. A little further down the corridor and we’ll reach it.”

Confirming Owen’s library was empty, Mrs. Colden led Lea toward the study. As she walked, she turned Lea’s appearance over in her mind. Despite being led on a roundabout path, Lea followed without a single complaint. That pale face and thin frame. She looked like a small wildflower that had grown up in the shade.

Having spent her life attending to noblewomen, Mrs. Colden felt a strange sense of superiority toward Lea, alongside something like pity. In any case, if the rumors were true, this mistress would soon be gone. Word had it that the nights were frequent enough, but no servant had ever seen the master and mistress go on an outing together or walk the streets the way other couples did. He clearly had no affection to give her.

Thinking that, Mrs. Colden felt somewhat lighter than usual, and she chattered on without pause as they walked down the corridor. She had always had a loose tongue.

“Mind the stairs, my lady, they can be slippery. ……Oh my! That man is here again!”

Climbing to the second floor, Mrs. Colden spotted a postman in the garden below and frowned. Lea blinked.

“That’s the postman.”

The unfamiliar man wandering through the garden wore a red cap bearing the post office insignia. That was proof enough of what he was. Lea found it strange to look at an ordinary postman as though he were an intruder, and Mrs. Colden shook her head vigorously at her words.

“My lady, postmen are not supposed to come inside the garden!”

“Why not?”

“Because this is the main building of a ducal house!”

Mrs. Colden glanced at Lea and said:

“It’s always been the custom, but families of high standing do not receive letters directly from postmen. Honestly, a postman wandering around in here!”

Lea had no particular interest in noble customs and said nothing in response. But Mrs. Colden looked thoroughly exasperated and continued:

“I’ll wager anything it’s a letter for Amelia. This has happened before!”

“Amelia?”

“Yes! The head maid!”

The moment Lea reacted to Amelia’s name, Mrs. Colden launched into chatter as though she had been waiting for exactly this.

“My lady, I’m only telling you this because you’re the mistress, but she may be head maid, but it’s not the first or second time she’s overstepped her authority. I could go on all day, but setting everything else aside, a few years back there were letters arriving addressed to Amelia with this residence’s address on them! As though she were the master or mistress herself!”

Mrs. Colden did not like Amelia. In truth, no servant in the residence liked Amelia personally, because while her abilities were excellent, she was far from an ideal head maid. She was not firm yet warm and gentle the way other head maids tended to be. She was cold and aloof and kept no close ties with the other servants.

So those around Amelia were divided into two kinds: those who respected her ability and experience, and those who disliked her. Mrs. Colden belonged to the latter. Her grievances against a head maid of her own generation ran deep, and when Lea’s face went pale, Mrs. Colden seemed to take it as the young mistress being shocked by her words, and her expression turned self-satisfied.

“And that’s not all! Not long ago I happened to see one of those letters that came for Amelia, and good heavens! It came from Edelent Island, of all places! You know it, don’t you? That prison where only the worst criminals are kept!”

“Edelent Island?”

“Yes! It said so right there in the sender’s address!”

This time Lea was genuinely startled. Edelent Island was an island built solely for confinement. The prison, from which no one had ever successfully escaped, sat on a desolate stretch of grey rock and sand. The waters surrounding it were cold and rough, and the only vessel that came and went was a transport ship sent regularly from the mainland, always guarded by armed officers.

In keeping with its strict security, it was known for holding only the most dangerous criminals, and its conditions were notoriously terrible. It was said that even s*icide was not a freedom the prisoners there were permitted. The fact that letters arrived from such an infamous place was genuinely surprising. Prisoners didn’t send letters, and guards typically sent correspondence under their own names rather than listing Edelent Island as the sender. In other words, the letter sent to Amelia was an official document from the prison, and if Mrs. Colden’s account was accurate, Amelia was unquestionably connected to that dreadful place in some way.

For instance, if one of her relatives or family members was an inmate there……

The thought darkened Lea’s expression. It wasn’t revulsion toward Amelia. She had simply been reminded, sharply, that she herself was the family of exactly such a criminal. If Zebek had been caught, he would certainly have been sent to Edelent Island. And perhaps even Lea herself…… The thought made her face go paler still.

Mrs. Colden noticed and flinched. She began to worry that this young, timid, and seemingly foolish mistress might be so alarmed that she would go and repeat all of this in front of Amelia. Whatever anyone said, Amelia was still the head maid and still held some say over the hiring and dismissal of servants. She had more influence over the staff than a powerless mistress did. So Mrs. Colden quickly added:

“That said, her abilities as head maid are excellent! And she did serve the master’s late mother. I do hope you won’t misunderstand me, my lady. I was only concerned. Now that the master is married, it seems right that you should be aware of these things.”

Before Lea could reply, they arrived at Owen’s study. Relieved that the conversation needed to go no further, Mrs. Colden exhaled and knocked on the door without hesitation.

“Master! It’s Colden.”

Mrs. Colden, who would ordinarily not have gone anywhere near the study to avoid disturbing the master’s work, stood her ground with confidence this time. After all, the person behind her was the duke’s lawful wife.

Owen’s study was at the very end of the corridor. The carpet underfoot was thicker than elsewhere, laid to muffle noise. Woven in a jacquard pattern, it swallowed the sound of footsteps entirely, and Lea stepped on it with a faintly curious expression, though Mrs. Colden, long accustomed to it, didn’t spare the floor a glance.

“What is it?”

The voice from behind the heavy door came through clearly. Mrs. Colden hesitated at Owen’s sharp reply, but spoke politely.

“My lady was looking for you, sir. I showed her the way.”

The tone was entirely different from the one she had used with Lea moments before. Lea didn’t mind.

Owen was silent for a moment before telling them to come in.

The study was large but carried a stifling quality. An intentional sense of pressure filled the room. Lea looked at the books packed tightly across the walls and the large, dark mahogany desk. Owen sat with his back to the only open window, and the atmosphere around him made it difficult to speak.

“Then I’ll take my leave.”