“My lord. I believe you need to wake up.”

“Hmm……. What, what is it?”

Earl Wallace opened his eyes, startled by his butler’s voice coming from nearby.

Not disturbing a superior’s rest is something subordinates must observe above all else. So even for urgent matters, one should wait outside unless invited in.

But now, the butler’s expression showed no trace of remorse. Only slight irritation and urgency at the Earl’s failure to rise immediately. And beneath that, deep fear.

From the butler’s expression, the Earl could immediately understand why he had so rudely entered his room to wake him.

“Has Vivian arrived?”

A chill ran down his spine as he uttered his wife’s name.

“Yes, she’s waiting.”

“D*mn it! You should have woken me immediately!”

Earl Wallace threw off his blanket and rose at once. But his body swayed as he stood on the floor. The butler, as if expecting this, skillfully supported the Earl.

At the Earl’s feet rolled a whiskey bottle he had eagerly emptied the previous night in high spirits.

“D*mn it.”

Despite choosing a liquor known for causing less of a hangover the next day, he had overindulged and couldn’t possibly be well.

Though his head felt like it was splitting with a headache and his stomach was so nauseated he wanted to vomit everything out immediately, the Earl hurriedly washed his face and changed his clothes.

After struggling to dress, he checked his appearance in the mirror.

It wasn’t the expression of someone going to meet a precious and beloved person. Rather, a face full of tension, like one about to face a very strict superior.

The Earl desperately tried to force a smile, attempting to erase his exposed emotions.

‘Today will be fine.’

Indeed, Ryan Wilgrave was dead.

He was hiding his joy at hearing the news among the whiskey bottles strewn across his room. He felt not the slightest grief at his son’s death. Ryan was merely a bastard he had sired in a moment of folly. Had he known what Vivian would say, the child would never have been born in the first place.

To the Earl, Ryan was no different from filth that wafted a foul odor in his presence, making him uncomfortable. Now that it was finally gone, how could he not feel relieved?

Loosening his necktie comfortably, he headed to the reception room.

As always, Vivian sat in the middle of the luxurious sofa with impeccable posture. Even though the Earl had entered, she continued quietly drinking her tea without looking at him.

The Earl approached her cautiously like the other employees of the mansion and greeted her.

“Good morning, Vivian.”

“Yes.”

At this brief response, the Earl’s tension increased dramatically. Until now, she had rarely received his greetings so readily. Usually, she would first cast a contemptuous glance before uttering cold, reproachful words as if addressing the most indiscriminate thing in the world.

“Ryan Wilgrave is dead, I see.”

And she turned her gaze to a letter placed on the table.

Although the sealed envelope was addressed to Earl Wallace, the Earl couldn’t say anything about the fact that she had opened and read it first.

At most, one might argue that she had the right to read letters sent to the family since she was family.

Everything of Wallace’s belonged entirely to Vivian. Even he himself was completely under Vivian’s thumb.

Earl Wallace picked up the letter.

A stiff military letter written on rough, coarse paper. It was a letter sent to him from Army Headquarters.

“Requesting my attendance at Ryan Wilgrave’s funeral…”

As if conveying grief with a calm content, the letter began with brief condolences and expressions of mourning.

Reading that the Ministry and the Northern Army would hold a state funeral honoring his outstanding achievements, Earl Wallace couldn’t help but feel incredulous.

Every single sentence here was unbelievable.

In fact, wasn’t this all a dream? Wasn’t Ryan Wilgrave still alive, with Vivian harshly rebuking him, and wouldn’t he soon meet a mysterious death and lose everything from his title to all this wealth and honor…?

But receiving the funeral invitation made it feel real. His tragedy was over.

“Well done, Arthur.”

Vivian called him by name, which was extremely rare.

A smile similar to his own appeared on Vivian’s face. It was the relief of having extracted a tooth that had been aching for a very long time.

“Now our rights will be healthy too.”

Her subsequent words explained what her joy was directed at.

The Orthodox priests had told Vivian that only if Ryan, who was born first and took all the shares, became weak would her next child be healthy and the Earl Wallace would prosper more.

Now that the dirty thief who had taken his share had died, everything would return to where it should be.

“Though the Disciplinary Committee has served its purpose, I’ll keep that position until the end. So after all this is over, how about going on a long hunting trip for recuperation? You know there’s an incomparable villa there.”

Earl Wallace’s eyes widened at Vivian’s words.

The hunting ground and villa in Rongol were places for the ‘real’ Earl Wallace people, which the Earl himself couldn’t access. Yet she was telling him to go there.

‘This means…’

It meant that Vivian was acknowledging his efforts and finally willing to treat him as a proper Earl.

The Earl swallowed dryly as he recalled the rumors about that place.

Occasionally, distinguished guests invited by the Earl’s family would visit there. Those who had been to this place, which even he as the Earl couldn’t access, all returned with satisfied expressions.

“Ah, it was truly a wonderful place. I was able to do everything I had only imagined. Such a heavenly place…”

It was said that whatever was done there would never be known outside. The employees were also from families that had worked for the Earl’s family for generations, so they were extremely tight-lipped.

Finally.

At the thought that he could now be treated properly as Earl Wallace, his shoulders rose proudly.

At that moment, Vivian stood up and said:

“I’ll say it again, don’t forget that this is after everything ends well.”

The faint smile that had been on Vivian’s face had disappeared. Without giving the Earl another glance, she left the reception room immediately.

And without looking back once, she departed from the Earl’s townhouse.

“Phew…”

After confirming that Vivian’s carriage had completely left, the Earl collapsed onto the sofa with a sigh.

As his tension eased, he wanted to drink again. While considering whether to ask for a drink, looking at the butler, the Earl abandoned the thought.

He remembered how the butler had entered his room at will, ignoring all etiquette when Vivian arrived, as if coming to wake a subordinate.

He couldn’t scold him. The butler was serving his master. So everything he was doing now would also be reported to his master, Vivian.

Though Vivian had left, realizing again that watching eyes remained, he reached out to look at the funeral invitation letter.

At that moment, the butler placed cool water beside the Count and said:

“Most military officials have received it. It’s going to be a very large-scale funeral, they say.”

“Hmm.”

For a moment, he wondered if he could skip it, but then remembered Vivian’s words about everything ending well.

The Earl downed the water in one go. The cold water spread throughout his body, instantly dispelling his hangover.

Putting down the glass, he ordered:

“Prepare formal attire for the funeral. And politely decline all party invitations that come to me for the time being.”

“Understood.”

As the butler withdrew, the Earl closed his eyes and thought about what he needed to do next.

‘First, I’ll quit the Disciplinary Committee at an appropriate time. I only joined to pressure Ryan anyway. I was getting increasingly annoyed by the various troublesome requests, so I can quit now. But that’s after the funeral.’

‘I just need to maintain a proper mourning expression at the funeral, say my heart is heavy with appropriate humility, and then leave.’

And once he confirmed Ryan Wilgrave’s corpse with his own eyes and saw the coffin buried in the ground, then it would truly be over.

A black flag was also hung at Sinclair’s mansion.

Sinclair had said she would not hold any more parties until the funeral was over. But that didn’t mean her mansion was quiet.

“Many are gathering today too.”

Eloise stood by the window, observing the carriages arriving at the mansion.

She watched as her breath condensed on the window, then dispersed in the eagle’s wind blowing in. If a family crest was attached to a carriage, she noted that down without fail.

After recording the incoming carriages for quite some time, Eloise began to cough from the cold air.

“Cough! Cough!”

Along with deep coughing, pain spread through her chest.

After covering her mouth with a handkerchief and coughing roughly for a while, Eloise slowly straightened her hunched back. Then she looked around her room.

A bare bed without any decorations, plain furniture. Even her bag under the bed.

‘Has it been a week already?’

Today marked one week since she had been moved from the second-floor guest room to this servant’s room in the corner.