He wondered what he had missed.

Had he ever treated this woman as anything other than a servant……?

Or had she ever demanded from him a relationship beyond that of employer and employee……?

The answer was ‘neither.’

Then this strange feeling could be safely ignored. It was merely a temporary sensory confusion caused by the consecutive glasses of whiskey and the environment of a rainy garden at night.

Having reached this conclusion, he decided not to choose any of the three options that had come to mind.

“……All right.”

And he sat down on a marble bench about a dozen paces away from her.

“Then I’ll wait here until you feel better.”

“……”

She didn’t try to stop him from doing that. Even if she had, he wouldn’t have listened.

He waited silently.

The late winter rain, or perhaps early spring rain, thoroughly soaked the woman behind the boxwood hedge and him as he sat statue-like on the bench.

The smell of water, the musty scent of earth, along with the chilly air, enveloped them both.

The stone bench was naturally cold in this season. Even as his damp shirt collar clung to his neck and water continuously seeped inside his clothes, he didn’t budge. Wet hair fell across his forehead.

Throughout this time, Jeremy’s gaze remained fixed on the hem of the robe stretched out on the grass. His coat was made of wool and could resist getting wet in the rain for some time. In contrast, that garment……

He couldn’t understand why she would wander around in such clothing when he had provided her with so many clothes. She could have at least used an umbrella.

After a long while, the rain finally showed signs of letting up.

He spoke again.

“Miss Pemberton.”

“……”

“Miss Howard.”

He sighed. She had quite a fine name for a governess from an orphanage.

“Bronwynner.”

The hem of the robe moved.

From behind the boxwood hedge appeared a white face, completely soaked with rainwater. With her bright red hair, also wet and dripping water, hanging long to the side. Looking like a white flower drenched in rain.

Only then did he remember what he hadn’t said earlier.

“Your face looks as unwell as Maude’s.”

He extended his hand.

“So let’s go inside now. This is an order from your employer.”

Bronwynner walked out from behind the hedge.

She wore bedroom slippers and a thin night robe. Through the semi-transparent fabric clinging to her body, her physical contours were distinctly, excessively distinct.

Enough to see that she wore only a single piece of underwear beneath it.

Enough to discern which parts of that slender body were light and which were dark.

The round br*asts that rose modestly below her collarbone were as white as the full moon. In contrast, the small n*pples that protruded sharply above her br*asts appeared darker than their actual color due to the night shadows. That appreciation, of course, included his own secret imagination.

Jeremy involuntarily averted his eyes.

Bronwynner seemed unaware of how she appeared to his eyes. Had it been another male servant—especially young and handsome ones like Seth—who discovered her, what might have happened in this garden.

He took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders.

She looked up at him with wet eyes.

“I experienced…… something frightening before.”

When did she mean by ‘before’?

He recalled the image of the woman standing blankly at the train station with bruises on her face. Then as now, she looked cold and in pain. And…… beautiful beyond the ability to look away. Keeping his gaze fixed on her face, Jeremy listened to her words.

“Walking outside makes me feel a little better. That’s why I came out. I didn’t mean to cause you worry.”

It wasn’t just worry. If something happened to his ward, it would be the guardian’s responsibility.

“Next time, choose a day with better weather.”

He advised.

Bronwynner followed behind him with her head bowed. Jeremy didn’t look back at her.

Only when they reached the edge of the garden did she speak again.

“……Your Grace.”

He was prepared to graciously accept her apology for making her employer wander through the garden like a madman in the rain, thus getting his clothes completely soaked, but an unexpected question came from her lips.

“Have you ever heard the name ‘Tristan’?”

Tristan……?

A few faces came to mind, but among them, only one she might know.

“There’s probably an actor by that name at the Whittingham Opera House.”

Is she bringing up that play again? If she said anything resembling praise about Tristan Autumn with his attractive black eyes, he felt his insides might twist.

But she blinked her large eyes and said something very strange.

“I think he…… was murdered during the performance.”

* * *

[Opera House’s Star Actor Murdered Center Stage

Last evening during Act 1 of “The End of Innocence” performed at the Whittingham Opera House, the theater’s actor T. Autumn was stabbed by his stage rival’s sword and died at the scene. The reason why the rapier, which should have been fake, was replaced with a real sword has not yet been determined, and the Whittingham police are currently investigating the actor E. Joyce who played the opposing role, as well as the production staff.

Theater associates unanimously stated that the deceased, who was the theater’s star, had recently been suffering from complicated romantic relationships, debt problems, and alcohol addiction. This incident has drawn public attention to the glamorous private lives of the Opera House actors, as well as to the thrilling plot of the play itself. The theater has decided to hire an understudy for T. Autumn and increase the number of performances of “The End of Innocence” from three to five times per week starting next week.

“The End of Innocence” is a tragedy in two acts that portrays the love and betrayal of three lovers manipulated by cruel fate.]

“Captain Kent managed security documents at the Army Ministry. On the day the confidential document was taken out, as you know, the captain mistakenly put a document that should never have been seen by the world in the approval tray. A high-ranking officer, thinking it was an approval document, took it outside.”

Count Derek Farraway said.

Derek had the captain’s father as a factory client. The captain had been a somewhat promising young man in his family, so his father was extremely grieved and shared all the details with Derek.

“That high-ranking officer, who is no longer an officer and is probably in the military prison now, accompanied a high official from the Army Ministry to Whittingham Palace that afternoon and then attended a dinner hosted by a marquis with whom he was acquainted. Only when he returned home late at night did he discover that the envelope that should have contained documents had just a blank sheet of paper in it. Until then, he had thought it was an ordinary approval document and didn’t think much of it, but when he went to work the next day, all hell broke loose. What happened next was predictable. The poor Captain Kent received severe reprimand, and the officer who had taken out a confidential document whose contents he didn’t even know was court-martialed.”

So, the place where the document was most likely switched for blank paper was the marquis’s mansion where the dinner was held.

Duke Harrows, who had visited Whittingham after a long time, had attended that dinner at the marquis’s residence. Prior to this, Her Majesty the Queen had obtained information suggesting that the late Rosemary Harrows might have been from Rosvalt.

Duke Harrows was known to have frequently traveled across the ocean to the Creole continent—Creole, having been civilized later than Elderum, was more often called the ‘New World’ in Elderum—for business in his younger years, where he met the duchess and married her immediately, giving birth to Celestine.

If that duchess had connections to the Rosvalt royal family, the suspicion that the duke might be in communication with that country was quite reasonable.

If so, the confidential document would likely contain content directly related to Rosvalt. It would be a disaster if it left the country. The fact that things had remained quiet so far meant the document had not yet been passed to the enemy country.

Derek, who had been watching Jeremy’s reaction, finally asked,

“Why don’t you ask Her Majesty the Queen for more details? You’re her favored nephew.”

Strictly speaking, he was the nephew of Duke Andrew, who had been the queen’s consort. However, it was true that Her Majesty the Queen trusted him.

“This is a test for me.”

Due to the war with Rosvalt, Lennox had suffered great sacrifices and hadn’t properly recovered from the aftermath, causing the royal family to lose public support. Amidst this, Christabel, the sole heir of Lester, ascended to the throne. Although Duke Andrew stood by her side, threats from inside and outside were endless.

Physical conflicts occurred frequently in the border regions with Rosvalt. When news that a revolution had broken out in the New World, overthrowing royal authority and establishing a republic, shook the continent, Christabel feared the same might happen in the kingdom. Lennox was still a solid class-based society, but the power of parliament had grown to a point that couldn’t be ignored, and correspondingly, Her Majesty the Queen’s power had lost its former authority.

After Duke Andrew’s death, Her Majesty the Queen became increasingly strict with those around her. It was the combined result of her desire not to be found fault with as a representative of the Lester family, her wish to pass a solid throne to Reginald, and the fear accumulated over many years.

Jeremy Lovedale served that Queen.

Derek shrugged his shoulders.

“Anyway, that’s all I’ve heard about Captain Kent. Are you also investigating the Whitepole area? I heard from Cameron that there’s another death at the Antler Club.”

Jeremy recalled the detective from Bathgate City whom he had briefly passed at the club entrance.

“Ah, probably a lower nobleman from Bathgate.”

“He was a nobleman? People like us don’t usually die so easily, why are there so many unlucky fellows these days? ……Is Maude all right now?”