Gentle Madness

Noah settled onto the sofa and said, "Still warm out today."

He loosened his cravat, laid it carelessly over the fabric beside him, and turned to Nils and Bertram. "So, how's it going?"

"We're still securing the materials you requested. It may take some more time. Cesare Elperts is—"

"Ah, by the way, I'm thinking of renovating this mansion."

"……"

Noah's abrupt remark left Bertram and Nils speechless. They were already drowning in work as it was, and now, out of nowhere, a renovation?

"Isn't it better as it is?" Nils ventured.

"Not for scheming. True, no one suspects anything here precisely because it's the Elperts estate, but still."

"Then why on earth would you suddenly want to renovate it? You just said it was ideal for scheming." Bertram grumbled on. The social season was fast approaching, and when it arrived, they would be worked to the bone — and in the middle of all that, a mansion renovation? What about everything already in motion here?

"Kasika seems ill at ease at the Lambroise estate."

"You're calling her by name outright now. What happened to 'Mrs. Lamplis'?"

"I thought she might like the Elperts estate better."

"No — hold on. You went to the trouble of making this place usable, and now you're changing it because you think she'll like it here?"

"People do tend to be more comfortable in their old homes, don't they?"

Bertram found himself at a loss for words. He shot Nils a look that said help me out here. Nils had no answer of his own, but he had to admit that what Noah was saying defied all reason.

"You bought the Elperts estate for a purpose in the first place, didn't you?"

"That was then. I've changed my mind."

"My lor—"

"Oh, honestly. Have you heard anything from that side? How do you know she won't end up preferring the Lambroise estate?"

"Exactly. This place is, frankly, a ruin."

"And do you have any idea how much effort went into making it look like a ruin? A new place is out of the question. There's the budget to consider, for one."

"I'll cover it from my own pocket."

"You have to spend wisely within the budget the palace grants you, my lord!"

Was he showing off how rich he was? By all means, let him spend his private fortune as he pleased — but what Noah Lambroise was attempting now went far beyond the pale.

"If she can live comfortably here, she won't be thinking about returning to that backwater."

"I pray to God she never finds out that's your reasoning."

Truthfully, Nils had thought this whole affair was doomed from the moment the words "mistress" and "contract" first entered the conversation. Which was exactly why he kept insisting this approach was a bad idea.

Bertram, on the other hand, thoroughly approved of it. Catching two rabbits with one stone was efficient, whatever way you sliced it. His objection lay solely in the matter of the budget.

"Twenty gold a month? Are you insane? The higher-ups won't let this pass."

"I said I'd pay it myself."

"……"

Which was precisely the problem — stop paying it yourself. What could possibly be so monumental that he would hand over the annual income of a common laborer as a single month's allowance? Out of his own pocket, no less? A year of that would nearly pay off a debt in full, with plenty left over. It was Noah's money and his prerogative, but even so, this was excessive.

"Honestly," Nils said, "I don't understand your behavior at all these days."

"And I can't guarantee she'll be of any use to us."

Bertram lent his weight to Nils's objections, but Noah answered them both with a flat, immovable "Have faith."

"At the very least, as the niece of Cesare Elperts II, people will see her differently."

"That's exactly what worries me more — that she's the niece of Cesare Elperts II."

What would people say when they looked at her? Her standing would spare her the worst of it — no one would dare pounce on her and demand immediate restitution — but they would watch her closely, and some would surely seek her out.

And if it came to that, would the other side show itself?

"Frankly, I'm skeptical even now. You said there's been no contact for nearly a decade."

Nils spoke quietly. If this went unresolved, it would erupt into chaos. The whole Kingdom of Ashpeille was at stake — and one very important person besides.

"I said have faith."

"On what basis, exactly—"

"The wine."

"I beg your pardon?"

"When I visited the second time, she served me wine."

"And how is that supposed to be evidence of anything!"

"It was Bevelen wine."

"……"

At that, Nils fell silent. Bertram laid a hand on his shoulder, wearing the expression of a man who truly believed in the endeavor. In fairness, there was nothing else to go on.

"Even so, the higher-ups won't look on her favorably."

"She's not Cesare."

"You can say that all you like—"

Would anyone actually believe it, though, from a man like him?

"She's the one who tutored me. So have a little faith."

Nils raised both hands and raked them rapidly through his own hair. This man is impossible! And beside him, Bertram muttered under his breath, "Well, when you put it that way, there really is nothing left not to believe."

"Still — there's no way she'd have caught on to all this without a single piece of information!"

"Which is why I can't exactly come out and tell her."

"Which is why I'm saying she should have been left out of the plan from the start!"

"No. She may prove more useful than we expect."

Noah said it lightly. After all, the number of people he could rely on at present was painfully limited. If that side had discarded Cesare Elperts — or even if they hadn't—

"What use is a noblewoman who spent nearly ten years alone in the provinces?"

"She's clever."

And since when did cleverness alone solve anything?

"Besides, she's cold-hearted and a gifted liar."

"……"

"To the point of making me weep buckets as a child."

Again — entirely beside the point. Nils heaved one long sigh after another. Bertram, by contrast, perked up with interest.

"You cried, my lord? Why?"

"She trampled my boyish first love into the dirt."

"Talk sense, will you, honestly."

Nils nodded along, unable to agree more with Bertram's assessment. Whatever else might be true, this particular lie would never fly. Noah insisted it was no lie at all, and smiled once more for good measure.

"In any case."

Setting that aside.

"Let's dress her up beautifully and send her out into society."

The essential thing was that Kasika Lamplis sign the mistress contract.

"Then we watch who approaches her."

He had to find out who was entangled in this. No matter how he turned it over, the Elperts could never have managed it alone, even with that side's help. So long as the Kanninen faction didn't interfere.

"My lord — is it really right to go this far?"

"He's right, my lord. You, of all people—"

Frankly, Kasika was an impregnable fortress of a woman.

"That's my burden to bear."

First, Noah reasoned, came making himself known to her.

"Keep the plan running as is."

For nearly ten years, she had not remembered him once. In that light, being entangled with him like this was perhaps an improvement.

"If she comes to hate you for it, don't look to me."

"Hmm."

Noah smiled.

"She's not the sort to hold feelings for me over something as small as that."

If she hated him, even that would be more than he deserved.

Kasika gazed up at the ceiling. Still a towering one.

The Elperts estate she could no longer remember had been built absurdly high as well, as if to declare that even a ruined house would not bow its crest — and the cobwebs crowding that great height had struck her as pitiful. This place bore no such scars.

A space where lack had never once existed.

Men raised in places like this — how blithely unblemished they grew up, how smooth and uncrumpled. To Kasika, twisted to the bone and ground down past any hope of unfolding, such a man was repugnant. And at the same moment, she felt a steady, lingering loathing for herself.

"Have you read the contract?"

Kasika looked at Noah, who stood facing her. Noah Lambroise had called on her in the late morning — perhaps, if anything, closer to lunch.

"Yes. You were generous enough to allow me ample time to review it," Kasika replied.

Certainly, the time allotted for reviewing the contract had been sufficient. It was the time to sleep that had been sorely lacking. Why anyone would pay a call at such an ungodly hour was beyond her. Surely a nobleman's virtue was to lounge in bed until well past a lazy hour, feigning helplessness until the sun was well up, and while away the day in genteel idleness.

In the mirror Lydia brought her, Kasika saw a wreck. She rubbed at the shadows sunk black beneath her eyes — the toll of too little sleep — and reflected, on the whole, that it wasn't bad. Around the time she had left the capital, a strange fashion had seized the city: this very haggardness, embraced as a kind of decadence, with everyone painting their under-eyes dark on purpose. She had no idea whether the trend still lived, but the look suited her rather well. It flattered her thick, deep-russet hair beautifully. How it would fare on a blonde she couldn't say — not that she'd ever had the chance to be one.

In the end, grooming was set aside, and Kasika received Noah in comfortable, careless dress.

Noah, for his part, seemed entirely unbothered by her unceremonious appearance, settling into the chair across from her and crossing his legs as if nothing were amiss.

"I'm glad you found the time sufficient."

Kasika met his gaze head-on and said, "However."

The contract lay on the table between them. Yes — she had read it very thoroughly indeed. There had been a great many curious clauses.

"'Thou shalt not share a bed with any other person'?"