As night fell, darkness settled over the Duchy of Fraser. The last light in the kitchen flickered out, and the footsteps of the servants who had been busy all day gradually faded away. At that hour, a lamp was lit in James Fraser’s study.

“So,” James asked as he took his seat after lighting the lamp, “what is it that you must discuss so urgently at this hour of the night?”

Opposite him stood Count William Everett, a friend from university.

William swallowed hard in the presence of the man, who always seemed to look down on others with his towering height. William hated having to ask James for favors, but there was no one else he could turn to.

“As you know, things in my territory haven’t been going well lately…”

The moment those words left his mouth, James’s expression darkened.

“That again.”

“Just this once. Truly—just this one last time!”

“If I recall correctly, you said the same thing the last time.”

James lowered his voice. William had borrowed money from him several times already.

At first, the sums were small — amounts that James could easily spare. Gradually, however, the sums grew larger until they reached amounts that James found harder to part with, even from his private funds. Some of those debts remained unpaid. Even if William managed his estate flawlessly from now on, it would likely take him close to a decade to repay everything.

“I told you I would repay it! It’s just that… there’s somewhere demanding their money back urgently.”

William’s pleas became increasingly desperate. What had started as an innocent pastime had spiraled far beyond his control. Ultimately, he even dipped into funds intended for trade goods. When he failed to repay the black-market merchant by the deadline, he came running to James in a panic.

If he failed to pay for the goods he had taken, he did not dare to imagine the consequences.

“How many times has this happened? You borrow enormous sums only to waste them on gambling. Do you truly think I would hand over more money knowing that?”

He looked at William with undisguised contempt. He had known about his gambling debts for a long time, and this time he was not going to overlook them.

“If that blasted baron hadn’t played dirty, I would’ve won it all back and repaid you! Help me just this once. I swear I’ll return it with interest. I only spent more this year because of my daughter’s birthday celebrations…”

“Out of regard for our long friendship, I lent you money until now. But this time—do not even dream of it!”

James had previously topped up the estate’s operating funds and even paid off William’s debts, moved by his pleas not to burden his wife and children with debt.

However, rather than getting his life together, William’s gambling addiction had worsened over time. James was now seriously considering severing their relationship altogether.

“Ha! Friendship? Did you just say friendship?”

William’s eyes blazed as he shouted. Although he had been reduced to begging for money, he could not swallow his fury at James’s shameless use of the word ‘friendship’.

They called themselves friends, yet they had never been equals. James had always treated him like a subordinate. Though William was painfully aware of this, he had no choice but to endure the humiliation.

James Fraser’s name carried far greater weight than William’s own title of count. That name alone could elevate a man’s standing in noble society.

This was also the very reason why William had remained silent when James committed adultery with his wife.

“Friendship? It’s hush money, isn’t it? To keep the duchess from learning what you and my wife have done!”

When it became clear that James would not waver, William resorted to his usual tactic when refused.

He revealed the secret meetings between James and Laura, which he had discovered while Amelia was still in the womb.

“If Scarlett were to find out, I wonder what would happen. If you would prefer to avoid that, then comply quietly.”

“And haven’t I complied with every demand you’ve made until now? You’ve taken the money and kept your mouth shut – and even that isn’t enough for you? Now you want more?”

It had been nothing more than fleeting indulgence. During his visits to Logan, it was Laura who had approached him first. After that, they had given in to temptation a few times, but nothing more.

From that moment on, however, William had started to demand money.

What had started as discreet hush money, given without Scarlett’s knowledge, had gradually grown into the enormous sum it was today.

“You’re not the only one with something to lose. If Scarlett finds out, I won’t stay silent either.”

But he had no more money left to give. What had started as a desperate attempt to stop Scarlett from divorcing him had turned into a never-ending drain on his personal fortune. He could no longer stand by and watch half of it disappear into William’s hands.

“And I am well aware that your sins extend far beyond gambling.”

James knew about all the terrible things William had done in secret within his territory: not only had he squandered money at gaming tables, he had also illegally trafficked arsenic, a substance strictly forbidden by the Empire.

“And when I lent you money, it was with the hope that you would raise your daughter properly.”

A mocking curve lifted James’s lips.

“After all, that child Amelia… she may very well carry my blood.”

William’s face hardened at those words.

Seeing no point in continuing a conversation with a man rendered speechless, James turned to leave the study.

“James Fraser!”

William’s voice cracked with fury as he shouted his name. Such intense emotion overwhelmed his rational thinking, and he lunged forward. The fear of returning to Rosedale empty-handed and facing threats worse than before consumed him completely.

Perhaps this was because his emotions had flared up so suddenly and violently.

James was shoved with more force than intended, causing him to stumble as his foot tangled beneath him. His body lurched backwards.

“—Ugh.”

With a dull thud, his head struck the sharp edge of the desk. He collapsed onto the floor.

Crimson blood began to spread across the carpet.

William fixed his gaze on the sight, watching the fabric slowly darken to a deep, blackened red.

“…Fraser?”

William called his name cautiously, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

There was no answer.

James lay there with his eyes still open; he had already stopped breathing. Foam was gathering at the corners of his mouth.

William staggered backwards instinctively. He hadn’t meant to kill him. He hadn’t meant to push him so hard. Yet the body sprawled across the floor looked unmistakably like that of a man he had killed.

‘What do I do now?’

It was then that he sensed movement beyond the door. William turned sharply. Through the narrow crack in the slightly open door — so small that it might not be noticed without careful observation — he saw someone watching.

A child.

Small in stature. Not someone he had ever seen in the manor before.

“Who’s there—!”

William barked the words threateningly as he flung the door open. But the only thing that met his eyes was the faint glimpse of a small figure disappearing beyond the wall.

“D*mn it!”

A curse tore from his lips. He had to chase the child.

But he couldn’t leave.

If he ran after her and someone else found James’s body in the study, all would be lost. No excuse would save him. Even if he claimed it had been an accident, killing a noble was a capital crime, punishable by death, regardless of intent.

Grinding his teeth, William forced himself back into the study. His eyes burned as he stared at James, lying on the floor with his eyes still open, gazing blankly and unblinkingly even in death.

William grabbed the lamp.

There was only one way to erase the evidence.

Then a thought struck him.

He rushed to the desk and tore open every drawer. He flung books and documents aside as he searched frantically. At last, inside a locked safe, he found what he had been looking for — a seal.

Not the official Fraser family seal, though.

But George Millen’s.

William slipped it into his pocket and turned to leave.

For a brief moment, his gaze met James’s again. Although the man was dead, his open, unblinking eyes seemed to accuse him. His steps faltered.

“If you had just lent me the money from the beginning, none of this would have happened. It’s your fault.”

He turned his head away, as though he could escape the dead man’s stare, muttering under his breath. It wasn’t his doing. It wasn’t his fault.

He struck a match and let it fall to the floor.

It didn’t take long for the flames to catch, or for the fire to spread to James’s body.