12.
I heard she was a bankrupt noblewoman, but a sick mother? Was that why she’d gone so far as to pose as a commoner just to find work?
Olive was lost in thought.
He could have authorized her pay advance at any time, but he wasn’t at liberty to make such decisions regarding her on his own. Strictly speaking, her employer wasn’t him—it was the Duke. Though she and the other general staff were unaware of that hierarchy, the few special positions hired directly by the Duke remained under his absolute management. He had to report everything concerning her to him.
“I think I’ll have to speak with His Grace, the Duke, first.”
“With the Duke?”
He saw her light green eyes widen in surprise.
“Yes. Lady Marin’s treatment is decided entirely by His Grace.”
“Yes……”
She replied quietly, her expression dejected.
“Let’s go, then.”
“Yes.”
Marin followed Olive toward what felt like the Demon King’s Lair. Because it was night, candles had been set into the walls along the dark corridor. Though brighter than during the day, the shadows flickering in the candlelight felt only more desolate and terrifying.
Soon, they arrived before the Duke’s office, and Olive stood still. Come to think of it, he had never once knocked on that door. No matter how sensitive the Duke was to sound, could he even hear things from beyond that heavy barrier?
“What is it?”
……So, he could hear.
“Lady Marin says she has something to tell you.”
“Come in.”
“Lady Marin.”
Olive lit a candle in a candlestick and held it out to her. Marin stared at him with wide eyes.
“Are you not coming in with me?”
“He only called for Lady Marin.”
“Did the words ‘come in’ mean only me?”
Olive answered with a smile and pressed the candlestick into her hand, as if to bolster her resolve. Marin steadied her trembling hands, opened the office door, and stepped inside. She started by apologizing.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I’m truly sorry for visiting at such a late hour.”
“So, what is it?”
The Duke urged her on, his tone impatient.
“I would like to request an advance on my pay.”
“…….”
There was no reply.
“I need to receive some of my wages in advance……”
Marin explained it more simply, her expression awkward.
“Why?”
Caught off guard by the blunt question, Marin’s eyes snapped open.
“I’m asking for the reason why I should grant you an advance.”
Marin racked her brain. *What should I say?*
Hasty tears welled up in her light green eyes. *What do I do? I can’t think of anything. If I’m kicked out, where am I supposed to put my mother?* Her gaze wandered until it landed on the wine glass on the desk. Suddenly, she remembered what Olive had said: that the Duke could not sleep well.
“I will put you to sleep.”
“……What?”
The Duke’s husky voice cracked, sounding startled.
“I read reports well, but I’m good at reading books, too. When I read, my mother falls asleep easily. I will put you to sleep, too, Your Grace.”
Marin rambled, saying whatever came to mind. By now, her tears had dried up completely.
“How did you know I couldn’t sleep?”
She hesitated. *Can I tell him I heard it from Olive? Or should I not?*
As she agonized, he spoke for her.
“Was it Olive?”
“Yes. But I don’t think Mr. Olive meant it in a bad way……”
“Fine.”
“Yes?”
“Let’s sleep.”
His languid voice brushed past her ears. Marin’s face turned bright red in an instant. It was a logical statement, but hearing it said so briefly felt strange.
“How long does it take from the estate to your house?”
“About an hour.”
“We’ll have to move you.”
“Pardon?”
Her voice rose in surprise. Startled by her own volume, she quickly covered her mouth with her hand.
“Olive.”
The Duke called out in a low voice. Olive, who had been waiting outside, understood instantly and slipped into the office.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Move the temporary worker to the detached building tomorrow morning.”
“Yes.”
Marin quietly raised her hand and cautiously interjected.
“Um, excuse me—if I may. I live with my mother.”
“Move her as well.”
“Yes, I understand.”
This feeling of déjà vu—being excluded from matters concerning myself—was not unfamiliar. *Ah,* she thought, *it was like this when it came to my wrists, too.*
“Lady Marin, shall we go?”
“Yes. Thank you, Your Grace.”
Marin bowed politely and left the office. As she followed Olive down the corridor, he spoke first.
“Shall we go to the office?”
“Yes.”
They returned to the room where she had been working until a few hours ago. As Marin sat on the sofa, dazed, Olive took one gold coin from the safe and held it out to her.
“Here it is. But if you are moving into the estate, won’t you no longer need the advance?”
“I have to pay the final rent.”
It was a large sum of money she hadn’t seen in a long time. Marin took the coin with trembling hands. With this, she could buy all the food and medicine her mother liked. She clutched the gold coin to her chest, then hesitated before holding it out to Olive again.
“Um, could you perhaps change this into silver?”
“Certainly.”
Olive handed her a pouch containing 100 silver coins. Marin hugged the pouch to her chest and struggled to find the words.
“Thank you. And……”
“Please, speak.”
Olive asked with his usual gentle smile.
“Do I really have to come and live here?”
“Didn’t you make that deal with His Grace?”
“To be precise, I said I would help him so that he could get some sleep.”
“Yes, that is true. And His Grace sleeps very late. How do you intend to travel back and forth every night?”
The road home was indeed dark and dangerous. It would be impossible to make that journey daily.
“I will lend you a carriage for tonight.”
“No! I don’t like carriages. I’ll walk.”
Marin refused at once, her face turning ghastly pale. Her fingertips trembled, and the world in front of her began to blur. She hadn’t ridden in a carriage since the accident. Even now, with her family’s fortune long gone, the mere thought of a carriage made her break into a cold sweat.
Olive observed her reaction closely, but she, lost in panic, failed to notice. Marin gripped her hands tightly, trying to pull herself together.
“Then, since it’s dangerous to let you go alone in the middle of the night, I shall accompany you.”
“Yes? No, I cannot trouble you that much.”
Surprised by his words, she regained her senses and waved her hands to decline. Olive stood up and asked naturally.
“You know how to ride a horse, of course?”
“Yes—I mean, no.”
Her light green eyes flickered. The answer came out before the thought. *Did commoners these days know how to ride horses as a matter of course?*
“I shall assume you know how to ride.”
Olive said, his eyes curving into half-moons as he declared it definitively. Marin had no choice but to nod.
Everything proceeded quickly. After following Olive to the stables, they rented two horses. It didn’t take long to arrive home. Once they reached the front of the hut, she dismounted with Olive’s help.
“Is this the place?”
Surprise was etched into Olive’s voice.
“Yes.”
Marin looked at the dilapidated hut with a fresh perspective. It was, after all, a grateful space that had sheltered her and her mother for years.
“Then I will take my leave. I will send a carriage in the morning.”
“The carriage is not ne……”
Just as Marin tried to refuse, her face pale, Olive gently cut her off.
“You said your mother is here, didn’t you? Wouldn’t a carriage be more comfortable for her? I will leave the horse you rode today, so please use that one.”
*Ah.* In her fear of the carriage, she hadn’t considered how she would move her mother.