“My concern for the cold made me forget my manners. I apologize. I shall take my leave, and I hope you do not stand here shivering alone.”

Cyril spoke with courtesy and bowed his head. Ashley offered his own parting words.

“Grief grows larger when you are alone with it. Please, do not leave yourself to solitude.”

“If there is anything you need, say the word at any time.”

Isaac added quickly.

“Thank you, all of you.”

All three men departed. It had been an unremarkable condolence call.

As the three figures receded into the distance, Emily, her face white as chalk, pressed close to Angela’s side, trembling. Her legs seemed to have given out beneath her.

“Miss. That perfume……”

“I know.”

The fragrance drifting from the three men. The same perfume Emily had said she smelled on the killer the night Joel died.

‘Miss, the perfume you loved so much, that scent came from the killer.’

That day, Emily’s whispered voice had been soaked in terror.

“Miss, what do we do.”

“Shh, they’ll notice. Act as though nothing is wrong.”

The most beautiful widow in the Axel Empire. Angela clenched her fist and kept her composure, but her eyes betrayed her, shifting without rest.

One of those men killed my husband.

❀❀❀

One month later.

“You truly mean to do this?”

“Yes.”

Phillip looked at Angela’s unwavering face and sighed.

His daughter-in-law was still so beautiful, so bewitching, that he half expected his dead son to come bursting out of his coffin. She had not changed at all.

“I know you’ve had an enormous number of suitors since the funeral.”

Angela had never shared a bed with his son Joel.

Joel had left for a foreign country on the Emperor’s orders immediately after the marriage registration. A grave diplomatic dispute had brought the country to the brink of war, leaving no time to prepare or hold a wedding ceremony.

And Joel had been the only man suited for the task.

In truth, even the marriage registration had been Joel’s own urgent idea, driven by his fear of losing Angela to another man while he was away. A betrothal alone had felt too precarious for such a long absence abroad.

In return, a grand wedding ceremony had been promised.

And the moment he returned, Joel was dead. Before they had even spent their first night together.

There was therefore no possibility that Angela carried an heir of House Maister.

Furthermore, before her marriage, Angela had been a lady of the Walther ducal house. As a daughter of House Walther, she held assets of her own that were far from negligible. And having left the Walther ducal house, the choice of her next husband belonged to Angela, not to them.

Beauty. Wealth. Noble blood.

A widow whose marriage had never been consummated.

All of it drove noble men to court her with something close to frenzy.

Phillip had no intention of standing in the way of Angela’s new beginning. But not like this.

“You are not an impulsive person by nature, and yet you are prepared to court scandal by selecting only three men and inviting them to this estate. There must be a reason.”

Only a month had passed since the funeral.

He was not asking her to mourn forever. But it was too soon.

And the men she intended to invite were men who drew attention.

Lord Ashley Rai Wilton. Isaac Leo Galland, son of the Count. Cyril Knox Knowles, son of the Marquis.

In looks, wealth, and lineage, each was formidable beyond comparison.

“My maid, who discovered Joel’s body, mentioned a scent she caught on the killer that night. The same perfume was on all three of them.”

“What?”

Phillip’s voice rose in surprise before he steadied himself.

“There must be more than three men in the world who wear the same perfume. That alone is not enough to draw a conclusion.”

“That perfume is extremely expensive, and its import channels are complicated. It is not a popular scent. The number of people in society who wear it can be counted on one hand. On top of that, all three attended the funeral, and all three sent me proposals in succession. They say a killer returns to the scene of the crime at least once.”

“Hmm.”

“There is a possibility they are not the culprits. But if the killer is among them, I intend to find out by any means necessary. My personal maid, the witness, will be at my side throughout, so she will be of help.”

Angela answered with composure.

Phillip let out a long, slow breath.

“If that is your wish, I will permit it.”

It could not have been an easy decision.

Two sons he had raised in place of a wife lost young. The first had died of illness. The second had been murdered.

The weight of that grief was beyond anything Angela could fully know.

And yet he had given his blessing to a plan that looked, on the surface, reckless. Angela was genuinely grateful.

“Thank you.”

“Angela.”

Phillip called her name, his face looking suddenly, sharply older.

“I too want nothing more than to see my son’s killer brought to justice, but I do not want you placed in danger, or dragged through scandal. Do as you see fit, but please, keep that in mind.”

“Yes. I will.”

“I will send the invitations myself. I am currently serving as acting Count Maister, so it will draw less talk than if you sent them as the countess. A father-in-law stepping forward to concern himself with his daughter-in-law’s remarriage will look better to people.”

“Are you certain? I am prepared to bear a degree of dishonor if it means finding the killer.”

“That dishonor is mine to carry. My days are not so many left.”

“Father……”

“Joel is gone now, so call me Phillip, as you used to. You called me that so often when you were small. I prefer it.”

“Yes, Phillip.”

“This is a pretense for now, but if you ever find someone you truly wish to marry, you may go at any time. I will handle the matter of House Maister’s succession myself.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Angela stepped out of the room, and Emily, who had been waiting, moved quickly to her side.

“Is everything settled, Miss?”

“How long are you going to keep calling me Miss. You ought to call me Madam.”

The words were calm, but the look in Angela’s eyes as she said them was full of warmth.

Emily clearly knew it, and grinned.

“From the very first day I entered your service, you’ve always been my Miss, and you always will be.”

“Others will take issue with it.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“If not for all of this, I’d be giving more thought to your situation with Tom. Has he proposed yet?”

“Oh, Miss!”

Emily’s face went scarlet.

Tom was Emily’s fellow orphanage alumnus. He had found employment at the Walther marquisal house alongside Emily, and had followed Emily all the way to the Maister comital house when she came with Angela.

Emily and Tom had been close since childhood, and that closeness ran deep. Above all, it was an open secret that Tom was in love with Emily.

“We’re not like that. Tom is just being dramatic.”

“Ha. Let’s say that’s so.”

“What about you, Miss? Are you really going to invite those men who proposed to you?”

“Yes.”

Emily reached out and gently took hold of Angela’s sleeve. The black mourning dress gathered in Emily’s fingers.

“Does it have to be this way? I’m frightened for you.”

“Emily, this is something I have to do.”

Angela spoke quietly but without hesitation, and Emily let go of the fabric.

“I know. That’s the kind of person you are, Miss.”

“If you’re worried, stay close and be my strength.”

“As if I’d do anything else.”

Emily’s clenched fist was endearing, and Angela had just allowed herself a small smile when a woman swept toward her.

“Countess Maister.”

A woman attached herself to Angela’s side with a bright, dimpled smile. Her elaborate, colorful dress was a stark contrast to the black Angela had worn every day since Joel’s death.

“I hear you’ve decided to invite three of your suitors.”

Natasha Barton.

The woman was Natasha, Joel’s sister-in-law, or rather, the woman who had nearly become his sister-in-law.

Joel’s elder brother Charles had always been frail, and one day died of acute pneumonia. Shortly afterward, Natasha, who had been Charles’s lover, arrived at the Maister household claiming to be carrying his child.

Naturally, House Maister had doubted whether the child was truly Charles’s, but they could not turn away someone claiming to carry his heir.

As a result, Natasha and the child had been living at the Maister comital estate in a position that was neither one thing nor the other.

Without so much as glancing at the woman chattering beside her, Angela replied briefly.

“Yes. Phillip gave his permission just now. He said he would send the invitations himself.”