Blissbury Manor. Commonly known as Blissbury.

It was the only place in Feltham to be called a manor.

However, it was also more beautiful than any manor in Camborne or the surrounding villages.

Since it was initially built as a quiet retreat, it was smaller than other manors.

Yet, its gardens, which embraced nature in its purest form, and the beauty of its interiors were by no means inferior, even when compared to the renowned estates of Newham.

Thus, visitors to Blissbury often found themselves unable to hide their admiration for a manor far more beautiful than they had expected.

“But a new steward? Then what about Father?”

The retired Mr. Surberton received a pension from the university and occasionally earned consulting fees by advising historians and scholars of ancient languages.

However, as always, the client determined the consulting fees, making his income unpredictable. Furthermore, the pension was insufficient to provide a truly comfortable life for a family of three and their maid, Emily.

Even with the pension and consulting fees combined, they had to be frugal—yet the Surberton family lived quite comfortably.

This was because Mr. Surberton’s salary as Blissbury’s steward was substantial.

Being a steward did not mean personally repairing the manor or tending to the garden.

His role was to oversee the hired staff and ensure they performed their duties correctly. That was his primary source of income.

Mr. Surberton’s close friend, Baron Stanford, aware of his diligence and integrity, entrusted him with managing his cherished estate.

The compensation was £500 per year—a sum equivalent to the annual income of a middle-class gentleman.

Naturally upright and meticulous, Mr. Surberton diligently oversaw Blissbury.

As a result, Eloise often accompanied her father to Blissbury.

She had no particular interest in the capital’s social circles, but spending time at Blissbury inevitably sparked a slight yearning for the grandeur and splendor of a larger world.

Newham must have many such estates—grand residences with long histories, adorned with portraits and sculptures of their owners, and filled with books accumulated over centuries…

Yet, Feltham was still her favorite place.

Perhaps she had been enchanted by the manor’s charm. Like her father, Eloise grew quite fond of Blissbury.

And now, a new steward was arriving.

Eloise slumped her shoulders in disappointment.

“Then visiting Blissbury will be difficult now, won’t it?”

When a manor was unoccupied, etiquette dictated that it be open to visitors, but if the former steward frequently visited, the new one might feel uncomfortable.

Once the transition was complete, she could only visit if invited.

“Oh, that may not be the case. Though he is called a steward, he will only stay for a year—perhaps even less. The new arrival is a soldier acquainted with the baron’s family, coming to Blissbury for convalescence after the war.”

“I see.”

Eloise tried to recall Baron Stanford, whom she had met briefly as a child.

He was about the same age as her father. If his friend was coming, the new steward must be a senior officer.

Perhaps he was a retired soldier seeking respite with his family after the hardships of the war that ended last year.

As she pondered whether she should prepare to accommodate an elderly guest, Mr. Surberton continued reading the letter.

“The new arrival is from the 57th Infantry Battalion—his name is Ryan…”

“Ryan? The 57th Infantry Battalion?”

Eloise suddenly raised her voice.

It was hardly the behavior of a proper lady, but Mr. Surberton did not reprimand her. He understood exactly why his daughter reacted this way.

“Calm yourself. The man coming is Sergeant Ryan Thornton, a distant relative of the Stanford family.”

Mr. Surberton folded the letter with a smile.

“He is not your Lieutenant Colonel Ryan Wilgrave.”

At the mention of that name, Eloise bit her lip.

Lieutenant Colonel Ryan Wilgrave.

Was there anyone in Albion who did not know his name?

A man from a remote, unfamiliar northern territory of Albion, he had enlisted to defend his country and fought with unparalleled bravery.

But bravery alone was not enough to make a name for oneself. Among Albion’s soldiers, tens of thousands were just as honorable and patriotic as Ryan Wilgrave.

His name began to gain recognition after he saved the life of the Duke of Kent, the Supreme Commander and the Queen’s second son.

By decrypting the enemy’s code, he identified a spy and diverted the gun aimed at the Duke of Kent at the last moment.

That alone was enough to earn him the Black Lion Medal, but his achievements did not stop there.

Securing independent operational authority for his battalion, he maneuvered across battlefields, turning the tide in unfavorable regions.

Furthermore, he traveled between nations to lead negotiations, ensuring the safe conclusion of the Rezan Treaty.

Strategy, strength, and even diplomacy—he was a man born not just to be a soldier but to become a hero of his time.

Everyone agreed that if it hadn’t been for Ryan Wilgrave, the armistice negotiations wouldn’t have proceeded so swiftly and cleanly.

However, all of that honor was shattered with the war’s end.

Just as rumors spread that the Queen would grant him a title and estate, a statement from within the military surfaced, accusing him of misconduct.

The allegations were numerous. At the minor end, he was accused of embezzling supplied goods. In contrast, at the more severe end, he was charged with deliberately disobeying orders and operating his battalion at his discretion.

Each accusation carried the weight of severe punishment under military law.

His involvement in Albion’s most devastating defeat was the most controversial among them.

The Battle of Ingon had inflicted heavy losses, shaking the entire army after multiple battalions were decimated. The 57th Infantry Battalion, positioned at the heart of the battle, was the only unit to return alive.

Although there had been casualties, most of the 57th Infantry Battalion survived, which paradoxically boosted the morale of the entire army.

Not a day passed without the name “Lieutenant Colonel Wilgrave” appearing in the newspapers. In Albion, his name was spoken as frequently as the name of God.

However, an anonymous letter surfaced, claiming to expose the ugly truth behind the miracle. It accused the lieutenant colonel of intentionally disregarding orders, surviving cowardly by exploiting the losses of surrounding infantry battalions.

The military was thrown into chaos. The high command announced an investigation and indefinitely postponed his scheduled medal ceremony.

The title the Queen had intended to bestow upon him was quietly dropped from discussion.

Meanwhile, more accusations poured in against him.

Reports surfaced detailing his alleged threats toward fellow soldiers, misconduct unbefitting a military officer, and even crimes bordering on illegality.

For those seeking new gossip after the war, the fall of a celebrated hero provided the perfect scandal.

The newspapers that once praised him now published scathing articles accompanied by mocking illustrations.

Months passed, and the name Ryan Wilgrave had become the greatest disgrace of the army.

His portraits once sold all over the capital, had all but disappeared.

But Mr. Surberton knew—one of the highest-quality portraits still hung inside Eloise’s room.

Despite the overwhelming shift in public opinion against him, Eloise remained a fervent supporter of Lieutenant Colonel Ryan Wilgrave.

“Even if he’s a different Ryan, be polite to him,” Surberton instructed Eloise.

While Surberton was speaking to Eloise, having heard all the necessary information, William bowed and excused himself.

Lancelot hurried after him, making it clear with his presence that he should leave quickly.

Unlike when he arrived, William pedaled away vigorously.

‘A new steward was coming to Blissbury! And he was an acquaintance of Baron Stanford!’

Within days, the news would spread across all of Feltham and Camborne.

* * *

As expected, news of the new steward spread throughout Feltham just six hours after William left the Surberton estate.

The ladies of Feltham, drawn by the intriguing rumor, gathered eagerly at the Surberton residence.

“So how old is he? What does he look like? Is he in poor health if he’s coming here for convalescence?”

Even Mrs. Ogilvy, usually reserved, leaned forward with excitement, firing off questions without pause.

Her behavior lacked decorum, but the other women understood her sentiments.

A few weeks ago, her second daughter was on the verge of an engagement, but it fell through.

Mrs. Ogilvy clearly hoped a new romance would come into her daughter’s life.

Mrs. Surberton took a leisurely sip of her tea.

“When I heard someone new was arriving, I asked my husband for more details. Unfortunately, I couldn’t learn anything about his appearance or health, but I did uncover something important—Sergeant Thornton is twenty-nine years old and still unmarried.”

“Oh my!”

Unmarried.

That word alone made Mrs. Ogilvy and every mother with a daughter feel their hearts flutter.