Richel Isle, Countess Isle, was once again buried in work today.

Her office was always overflowing with documents, and beyond that, new issues arose every day as she made her rounds through the estate. From adjusting taxes and labor duties within the territory to mediating all kinds of disputes among the residents—she had no choice but to work without rest.

‘Not a single quiet day.’

The reason her life had become so consumed by work was because her husband, Count Isle, had suddenly gone missing.

Because of that, she had become the acting count overnight.

It meant managing both the internal and external affairs of the count’s household, resolving problems as they arose in real time, and enduring an endless stream of responsibilities.

As Richel stepped outside, a servant brought her horse forward.

The pure white horse turned its head as if greeting her. She gently stroked it once before mounting with ease.

Clompo, the butler’s son, approached her side.

“What is it today?”

“A sow in the southern village died while giving birth. Normally, the piglets are divided with the owner of the stud boar, but since the sow died… they refused to give any of the piglets and told him to just take meat instead.”

“The boar’s owner protested? Who requested a trial?”

“It was the sow’s owner who filed the complaint. The boar’s owner struck him on the head with a liquor bottle and took all the piglets.”

“D*mn it, causing trouble again because he got drunk?”

Richel openly cursed.

It was a stark contrast to the refined noblewoman she had once appeared to be.

Over the past three years, she had endured all kinds of hardships and changed in many ways.

The most noticeable of those changes was her way of speaking.

It had become blunt—rough.

Clompo glanced at her cautiously before speaking.

“Well… it is winter. Everyone tends to be drunk by evening…”

“Then we should just impose a drinking ban every winter, seriously… Something like this happens every other day once winter comes around. How am I supposed to get anything done when it’s always like this?”

“But a drinking ban… isn’t that a bit too much?”

His expression clearly showed that he wanted to oppose the idea outright.

And it wasn’t just Clompo who felt that way. Most of the people in the Isle territory loved their drink.

Once the winter wheat was sown in November, there was little to do until spring arrived. It wasn’t as brutally cold as the northern regions, but it was still cold enough for snow to fall. People would usually shut themselves indoors from early evening, drinking the night away.

‘The problem is they don’t drink quietly.’

The drunk often picked fights, and sometimes wandered outside and froze to death.

This pig incident was no different.

What could have ended as a simple argument and compromise had escalated—under the influence of alcohol—into a violent ass*ult, someone’s head smashed open.

Letting out a deep sigh, Richel spurred her horse forward alongside Clompo toward the southern village.

***

On days she inspected the estate, Richel usually ate outside and returned late in the evening.

The meals in the villagers’ homes were poor and unrefined, but she had no choice. She didn’t have the time to prepare and carry her own food.

When she arrived at a village, there were always countless small and large incidents that Clompo hadn’t reported.

By the time she mediated disputes among the villagers and listened to each of their grievances, the sun would already be setting.

By the time she returned and washed up, night had fully fallen.

Suppressing her exhaustion, she sat down in her office.

The documents had already piled up again.

‘If only the number of winter disputes would decrease… Should I really impose a drinking ban?’

Most conflicts between villagers ended with mutual agreement or apology.

But it was different when alcohol was involved.

Once blood was shed, reconciliation became difficult.

People endlessly insisted on their own grievances, and eventually, they would come to Richel requesting judgment.

After listening to such stories all day, she felt completely drained.

Richel let out a long breath.

‘…That b*stard Edwin left this territory to rot, so why am I working this hard?’

This land had originally been her husband Edwin Isle’s responsibility to manage.

It was a territory granted to his family when his grandfather received the title of count.

But he had never managed the estate at all.

After the previous count and countess died in an accident, he left the territory neglected for over two years.

‘It’s land like this—money comes in from other businesses anyway, so it doesn’t matter if it’s left alone.’

The Isle family had risen through commerce. The estate itself was never their main source of income.

After becoming count, Edwin had only focused on those major businesses.

Richel only learned the truth after he went missing and she became the acting count.

Compared to the other enterprises, the estate’s management system was in complete disarray—from its reporting structure to everything else.

‘I went through h*ll because of it. It was a complete mess…’

She threw herself into restoring the neglected land.

Fortunately, the Rainer count’s family—where she had been born and raised—was a house that had long been built upon the foundation of its territory.

Richel worked based on what she had learned while helping her parents, picking things up along the way. She restructured the rotting systems and carried out various construction projects.

‘They say you never know how life will turn out…’

Thinking back to three years ago, she opened the drawer of her desk.

Inside lay a divorce agreement she had once prepared.

‘If Edwin hadn’t gone missing, I would’ve handed this to him.’

But Edwin never returned, even after the hunting gathering had ended.

‘He’d gone off and stayed away so many times before… I never once thought something had gone wrong. I just kept waiting.’

People whispered behind her back, criticizing her for not immediately searching for her missing husband.

Those who fed on others’ misfortune would speak carelessly, without thought.

Even knowing that, Richel found it hard to remain unaffected.

The rumors wounded her easily.

Staring at the divorce agreement she had taken out, she picked up a pen.

‘…I should raise the settlement amount a bit more. Who knows if Edwin will ever come back.’

Most people believed Edwin was already dead, but she kept the divorce papers nonetheless.

Whenever her heart felt unsettled, or the weight of her duties became too much, she would take out the document and increase the settlement amount.

Strangely, that alone brought her a sense of comfort.

Because it allowed her to hold on to the hope that one day, Edwin would return and that all of this suffering would finally come to an end.

Just as she unfolded that section—

The door to the office burst open.

An utterly rude intrusion.

“Richel! I—I’m really alive… I’m alive!”

The man rushed toward her in an instant and pulled her into an embrace.

It was less of a hug and more like crashing into her with his whole body. Unable to withstand the impact and weight, Richel toppled over with her chair and hit the floor.

“Ah! Wh—who are you? Let go of me!”

She pushed and kicked at him with her arms and legs. With a groan, he loosened his grip.

Richel quickly scrambled away and yanked the cord hanging on the wall—twice in rapid succession.

It was an emergency signal to summon the nearby guards.

In the next moment, her body was suddenly pulled backward.

Still seated on the floor, she was trapped within his arms once more.

“Ah!”

Just as Richel let out a second scream—

“R-Richel, it’s me. Edwin—Edwin Isle. Your… your—hng… your husband.”

Edwin Isle?

The name shocked her so much that she stopped struggling.

Twisting her body, she turned her head.

The man slowly lifted his bowed head.

“…Is it really you? Edwin?”

At her question, he nodded.

His vivid blue eyes were soaked with tears.

He pulled her into another tight embrace.

“Richel… hng… I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I was foolish… I—hng… I…”

He broke down, crying out loud.

His arms tightened around her once more.

Richel sat there in a daze, unable to make sense of the situation.

Edwin Isle—who had been missing—had suddenly reappeared.

The man they hadn’t been able to find even a trace of, no matter how thoroughly they searched now standing in the middle of the count’s estate.

‘What on earth is this…’

Just then, the guards rushed into the office all at once.

“My lady! What happened? The alarm suddenly—”

They froze.

“S-Sorry!”

The guards quickly turned their backs.

Richel and Edwin were still sitting on the floor—locked in each other’s arms.

Richel tried to lift her head, but she couldn’t—Edwin was sobbing as he rubbed his face against her shoulder.

She snapped.

“What do you mean sorry—Edwin! Let go already! Let go so we can sit and talk—Edwin Isle! I said let go!”

Everyone froze at the name.

There was only one person in the entire territory who bore that name.

The Count of Isle, who had gone missing three years ago.

As the guards hesitated, unsure what to do, the butler rushed in.

“My lady, what is the meaning of this emergency—”

“Edwin! Let go of me!”

Edwin?

Startled, the butler hurried closer.

The man was holding Richel tightly, his face buried so deeply it was hard to see.

“My lord…? Is it truly you?”

He only wept, his head bowed.

Richel answered in his place.

“Yes. Edwin suddenly appeared—ugh, have you lost your mind? Let go already!”

Even as she shouted, Edwin only clung to her more tightly, crying.

His grip grew stronger, pressing painfully against her.

Richel’s face flushed red with irritation.

Finally, she snapped at the guards.

“What are you waiting for? Get over here and pull Edwin off me!”

Only then did the guards rush forward and grab hold of him.

Edwin struggled, trying to resist.

“Let go! D*mn it, let go! Richel—I was wrong. I—I’m just glad you’re alive… that I could see you again. Hng…”

He rambled incoherently as he cried.

Like a madman.

Richel pressed a hand to her forehead and spoke.

“Butler, take Edwin away first.”