Arthur paced around his room. The more he eliminated each failure one by one and retraced his steps, the less he could see any remaining path forward. What state was his body actually in, and how much time did he have left?

If the butler returned from the capital today… The butler. His face hardened further when that cunning bastard’s face came to mind.

The sound of his heartbeat echoed in his ears. The pounding rhythm mixed with sobbing at some point. He tried to shake his head to dispel the auditory hallucinations and focus. 

But it was useless. Now he began hearing laughter. Was it his imagination that his own voice seemed layered in with it?

His thoughts, which he had been mulling over briefly, gained an unnatural acceleration. That woman wasn’t just useless—she was completely ruined. He had wasted effort on something utterly worthless.

He now completely withdrew his interest from that woman. He no longer even cared why that country girl was in such a state.

“……”

At some point, his thoughts stopped connecting. Hallucinations from behind, from the side, from all directions burrowed into his head. Impulse and reason alternately took the stage. Hadn’t all his efforts at self-restraint been out of consideration for outsiders? 

But it had all been pointless, so why bother?

He swept the objects off the table. Cups and a teapot crashed to the floor, sending fragments flying in all directions. The loud shattering sound stopped the hallucinations, leaving only his own ragged breathing.

True to the stigma of someone who caused disgraceful scenes with an unsound mind, he burst into laughter in the chaotic mess of his room.

Arthur rushed out of his room and descended the central staircase. Until then, not even a mouse had been visible, but when he opened the front door of the manor and it rang with a clang, a footman who had been hiding and slacking off hurriedly emerged.

“Young master, where are you going?”

When he turned around, the footman who met his eyes hesitated. Before he could become troublesome, Arthur gave a casual answer and stepped outside.

“A walk.”

Without the butler present, they only cared about keeping him, who had come for ‘recuperation,’ safely confined within the manor’s iron bars. But while normally a footman would quietly follow, today he called out in a frightened voice.

“The young master is going for a walk!”

When no one followed, the hesitant footman eventually began hurrying after Arthur in a fluster.

“Are you looking for Paul?”

Instead of answering the footman’s question, Arthur headed toward the stables. There, along with the unavoidable smell, were four horses used alternately for the carriage, and Paul sprawled out drunk.

He approached a brown Hanoverian breed horse with his mouth shut. When he grabbed the reins and opened the stable door, the footman who had followed urgently spoke up.

“Young master, I will accompany you.”

“Do as you like.”

But the steward and three or four male workers who came running belatedly blocked the entrance. Arthur raised his eyebrows.

“Young master.”

“What’s the matter?”

Having run quite urgently, the panting steward’s face glistened with unseasonable sweat.

“I apologize, but now is not a suitable time for horseback riding.”

“Is there a specific suitable time?”

“Most importantly, none of us have horsemanship skills good enough to accompany the young master.”

“That footman standing over there just said he would accompany me.”

“That greenhorn is not suitable to attend the young master.”

Since the one who could ride at his pace was now passed out drunk, horseback riding was ultimately impossible. When Arthur snorted, the steward desperately shouted.

“We apologize for our inadequacy. But we received orders to slaughter all the horses if such a situation arose.”

When the steward stepped slightly aside, a male worker holding a rifle at an angle became visible. Arthur smiled wryly at their version of a grave attitude.

“Ah, so my death would be reported as an accident?”

“This is about three horses. Don’t even bring up such frightening talk.”

Arthur stared at the trembling steward. The man’s yellowed, swollen face looked particularly hideous today.

“…It’s not much to offer as a substitute, but I obtained some good cigarettes.”

Sweat dripped from the steward’s thick chin. Watching the sweat drops fall to the ground, he acknowledged that further commotion was meaningless.

But simultaneously, Arthur’s expression gradually disappeared from his face while looking around.

Why did he come to the stables?

Looking at the situation objectively in hindsight made his mind feel distant again. There might have been a chance to ride a horse, but why had he headed here after causing a commotion in his room? 

He couldn’t understand why he had deliberately drawn attention and heightened the wariness of those who didn’t know the situation.

He stared into space for a moment, then closed his eyes. The despair he felt each time he realized that the biggest obstacle to escape was himself was considerable.

He couldn’t understand what remained that made him act on impulse, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on such things. Whether it was still side effects from medication or withdrawal symptoms from stopping it, if there was no way to cope, there was no need to analyze it.

However, it wasn’t time to give up yet. If that Tollum woman was useless, he should have concluded to re-examine the other people in the house.

Now completely rational, Arthur slowly opened his eyes and grinned.

“Por Laranaga?”

“I couldn’t get those, but I managed three boxes of Cabanyas…”

“Yes, Jefferson. Trichinopoly was truly awful.”

He headed to the smoking room with a sarcastic smile, seemingly nothing had happened.

* * *

Once the work became somewhat familiar, it seemed like there couldn’t be such a good job in the world. Everything was top quality, in excellent condition, and easy to maintain.

Of course, perhaps because this house was a magnificent wealthy household, there were some rather peculiar aspects.

Particularly, bells were attached to both sides of every door inside and outside the manor, so that even if someone tried to sneak in from outside, the bells inside would ring. And the fact that the first and second floors had nails in every window so they wouldn’t open felt quite unfamiliar.

They seemed very concerned about thieves breaking in, but cleaning the outside windows was the male workers’ job anyway. 

From Emily’s perspective, not having to clean window frames was actually convenient. The fact that they released hunting dogs at night also didn’t concern her. After all, she had no reason to go outside the building after work hours.

This house even outsourced all laundry except small hand-washing. She had found it puzzling that they didn’t assign the arduous laundry work to this insignificant person from Tollum.

“Strip all the bed sheets and put them with the luggage going to town.”

“Yes.”

Today she wasn’t assigned cleaning alone in the attic, but work that took her around various parts of the manor. The thought that she wouldn’t encounter that person again made her feel much more at ease.

She moved diligently, excluding a few rooms she couldn’t enter. In the manor, she just had to skip the young master’s and Mr. Jefferson’s rooms, and in the female staff quarters, she only had to avoid the head housekeeper’s room. She was told the male staff quarters weren’t her concern.

“…Ah, this is it.”

Reaching the back door, Emily carefully set down the sheets she had carried in both arms and unfolded the sacks piled against the wall. The name of a laundry factory in Tollum town was written on them, so there was no mistake.

Behind her as she crouched, Hannah, who was passing by, stopped and whispered.

“Tollum, no. It’s somewhat unsettling to outsource it, but that person can’t stand the manor being noisy.”

She was grateful that Hannah occasionally acknowledged her now that they had become somewhat friendly. Moreover, lately Hannah had been readily answering Emily’s cautious questions.

Of course, Emily maintained her caution and never asked who ‘that person who can’t stand the manor being noisy’ was. But this level of question was fine.

“Aren’t you worried about bedbugs getting mixed in from the laundry factory?”

“Everyone was in an uproar at first! But the laundry owner made a bold promise in front of the head housekeeper. He said he’d wash ours separately and cleanly, then boil them.”

With over thirty workers and a large chimney, it was definitely a factory, but Hannah kept calling it a laundry shop. Emily, who had chuckled, paused at the following words.

“When you first changed clothes, I saw you were clean without any bite marks. That’s why I’m sharing a room with you without asking to change rooms.”

Though Emily felt various things about Hannah’s innocent giggling words, she just nodded.

“…Right. That’s fortunate.”

From what she had inadvertently learned, Hannah’s position within the manor didn’t seem particularly good either. Setting aside sharing a room with someone from Tollum, she might have been given the role of monitoring whether Emily washed herself clean daily.

“I’m going.”

Hannah disappeared, and just when Emily had finished filling the sack, dusted off her hands, and reached the front of the central staircase—

“Young master, then where will you have dinner—”

“Why? Was it possible to dine somewhere other than my room?”

The young master and the steward were passing by. Her spine chilled at the instinctive danger signal. Emily immediately stepped back.