When the Hunt Ends

The nobles had reversed their attitudes, and he suddenly had to move for a marriage—all of it because of the Empress Dowager Irina, the regent.

"What can we do? The Empress Dowager is determined to wipe out any noble house that takes Mikhail's hand."

Igor sighed and shook his head.

From the beginning, the Empress Dowager and Mikhail had not been at odds. On the contrary, they had been something close to partners. Mikhail had wanted to sweep away the nobles who obstructed him at every turn, and the Empress Dowager had likewise wanted to clear out the old aristocracy in order to seize real power.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend. They had never formally sent agents or reached an explicit agreement, yet Mikhail used the forces the Empress Dowager supported from the shadows, and she used the power she had reclaimed to dispose of the nobles who stood in her way, one by one.

Thanks to that, nothing stood in their path. The Empress Dowager was now, as regent, the de facto emperor of Novgord. Mikhail, for his part, had eliminated every noble who had coveted his wealth and obstructed him, then expanded his enterprises without restraint. So far, so good.

"They say when the hunt is over you cook the dog, but she's being rather hasty. To forget who put the gun in her hand..."

Having finished with the nobles, the Empress Dowager began to nurse grander ambitions. Ambitions to forge a stronger imperial house and empire. Passion and money were required to realize a dream, yet the imperial treasury was far from ample. In the end she began to want money from outside the court. Mikhail's money, to be precise.

True to her ambitious nature, once she fixed on a goal she moved with tireless energy. In the blink of an eye several of Mikhail's businesses found their hands and feet bound. On various forced charges they passed into imperial possession.

Perhaps because she had tasted money once. The Empress Dowager drooled over Mikhail's remaining enterprises even more. Naturally he had no intention of sitting still and handing them over. And he made up his mind. He would bite the master who forgot the dog's loyalty.

There was no room for a wasted shot. Mikhail knew the time had come for him to step forward in person, lead the nobles, and sever the Empress Dowager's limbs for good.

But there was a problem. No matter how much money he possessed, his status was still only that of a commoner. That created limits when he tried to mix directly among the nobles. From the inability even to enter the Senate where they gathered, to the requirement that he remain on his knees when a great noble attended.

So Mikhail decided he would obtain a title.

There were only two ways for him to acquire one. Either revive the extinguished Vorontsov countship and inherit it, or marry the daughter of a house that no longer had a male heir and take up its title.

The former was naturally impossible. The Empress Dowager would never restore that title. Therefore the only remaining method was for him to marry a noble daughter.

As expected, the Empress Dowager moved to interfere. To every house that sought to marry its daughter to Mikhail and let him inherit the title, she waved both carrot and stick.

Do not accept Mikhail's proposal now. If you refuse, the imperial house will share many of its possessions with you. But if you take Mikhail's hand, she would spare no effort to make an example of you.

In the end the nobles chose to wait and watch a little longer. Because of that, the marriage talks that had been coming to Mikhail from noble houses cut off cleanly. He did not give up, and continued to inquire after houses that could hand him the title he wanted.

That was when word arrived from the Lauderdale countship.

Knock, knock.

At the sound of knocking, Igor approached the door, asked who it was, and opened it. The man who entered was the subordinate Mikhail had sent to the Lauderdale household.

"It's been a long time, Mikhail."

"You've worked hard, Yury."

"Work? It was so easy I felt like I was on holiday."

"Easy? Looking into a count's finances?"

At Mikhail's probing remark, Yury laughed and shook his head.

"How grand could the finances of a countship on the brink of bankruptcy possibly be?"

Yury was the man who assisted with Mikhail's accounts. To someone like him, the finances of a countship left with nothing but its estate were not merely easy—they were tedious.

"All right. Now that you've seen it for yourself, what is the Lauderdale countship like?"

"A mess. After the count died and the heir was conscripted, the countess seems to have managed things herself... but a countess who never properly learned how to run an estate simply did whatever the accountants and lawyers told her. She handed over every important piece of property to the Empress Dowager, and the man she trusted with the household accounts gambled away the remaining real estate. So the only things of value left are the Edenhurst estate and the mansion. Even those are pledged as collateral for bank loans, so in truth there's nothing left. Right before I arrived they could barely afford the servants' meals, let alone firewood for the winter."

Yury continued to rattle off everything he had done since arriving at the countship. After listening for some time, Mikhail ate the simple meal Igor had brought and put a question to him.

"Good. That's enough about the finances. What sort of people are the Lauderdales themselves?"

"First, Countess Ariana Lauderdale... is the purest embodiment of a noble."

It was not a compliment. Yury let out a long, weary sigh.

"You know how they are. Nobles and their endless fuss over etiquette. The day I went to see her she took one look at me and found fault with everything under the sun. She elegantly circled around saying that if she hadn't been in such a desperate situation she would never have let a man like me set foot in the mansion's drawing room."

At Yury's description Mikhail gave a bitter smile.

"And a woman like that is trying to sell her daughters to a man like me. Just how deep does her grudge against the Empress Dowager run?"

"Don't even start. The moment I casually mentioned her dead son she began to cry, then went on and on about how angelic his looks had been, how fine his character, how outstanding his talents—and after that she didn't even bother to disguise her resentment of the Empress Dowager. Well, it does seem certain the Empress Dowager eliminated the heir because she had her eye on Edenhurst. Give the countess a knife and she'd stab the Empress Dowager this instant—"

"Yury."

Igor called his name in a lowered voice, warning him to keep quiet. Yury waved a hand in acknowledgment. There was always the chance one of the Empress Dowager's people was nearby, so caution was necessary.

"Fine. Enough about the countess. What about the daughters?"

"The eldest, Miss Elizabeth, is quite a beauty. From what I heard, when she debuted at court there were a fair number of suitors. But none of them pleased her, so she refused them all. The second, Miss Catherine, is said to be lively and warm-hearted. From childhood she often went down to the village, making donations to the poorhouse or helping those in need. Of course she stopped once the family fell on hard times."

"......"

At Yury's words Mikhail glanced briefly at the shoes left on the floor. She went around making donations. Then had those shoes been given long ago to someone else?

"And the third—"

"Wait. A third? There's a third daughter in that house?"

Mikhail asked, puzzled. The documents he had first received had clearly reported that the house had only two daughters. A third? Had there been an error in the papers he was given?

"Ah—she's not the countess's own child. About ten years ago the previous count brought home a girl from somewhere and adopted her. Her name is Anastasia Lauderdale."

"Anastasia."

An adopted daughter the former count had brought in, still bearing a Novgordian name. It was obvious what kind of treatment that girl must be receiving.

"Yes. Miss Anastasia is—"

"That's enough about her."

Mikhail cut Yury off. An adopted daughter was not one of the Lauderdale girls he needed to concern himself with. In the end he would have to choose between Elizabeth and Catherine. Better to spend the time gathering more information about the countess's own daughters than listening to talk of a useless girl.

As Yury's report continued, Mikhail thought. Which of the Lauderdale daughters would bring him the greater advantage?

The next morning Anastasia quietly scraped the bottom of the bowl with her spoon. The soup had already been gone for some time, yet she kept up the pretense of eating. It was because of the conversation among the servants nearby.

"That new master they mentioned yesterday. They say he's tremendously rich."

"Of course he is. How else could he get his hands on Edenhurst?"

The talk of the new master she had overheard the day before was growing, little by little, with more concrete flesh.

"Then will the mistress and the young ladies be going somewhere else?"

"No—it's not that. The new master is going to marry one of the young ladies and inherit the Lauderdale countship."

At those words the servants nodded as if they understood. They were not Lauderdales themselves, yet their faces showed genuine relief that things had worked out well.

Most servants in noble houses treated their master's honor as their own. The treatment they received depended on which house and which person they served, so it was only natural. Servants had ears, and they knew that those with succession rights to Lauderdale had refused the title because they could not shoulder the family's debts. They also knew that if the two Lauderdale daughters married elsewhere and took other names, the Lauderdale countship would come to an end.

That would leave them in an awkward position. The disappearance of the house they had served would mean the disappearance of their own work history as well. But if the new master was willing to take on all those debts and continue the count's house, then they could go on living the same peaceful lives as before.

After chattering for a long while the servants began, one by one, to clear their dishes and go upstairs. A short time later only Anastasia remained in the kitchen.

She picked up her bowl and approached the sink.

"Ah..."

A throbbing pain shot through the sole of her foot and a soft moan escaped her. The wound she had taken the day before seemed to have split open again. Anastasia carefully lifted her skirt and examined her foot.

Her right foot, wearing the left shoe, came into view. Of all things, it was the leg of the shoe that had gone missing yesterday that had been injured. The slightest movement reopened the cut and made the blood flow. She had bound it with cloth, but as soon as she walked the blood seethed through again and left stains. So Anastasia had no choice but to put the left shoe on her right foot.

Even in this state she worried more about the shoe that would be stained with blood than about her own foot. She had to get to the forest quickly and take the shoe off.

She hurriedly washed her bowl and was about to go upstairs when footsteps sounded and Sophie, the housekeeper, entered the kitchen. Catching sight of Anastasia, she spoke in a blunt voice.

"The Countess is looking for you."

The bowl in Anastasia's hand slipped and rolled into the sink.