Episode 48

This morning—yes, this very morning—he woke at his usual early hour. Yesterday, she had been sleeping soundly beside him. Today, waking up to find no one there felt a little lonely. Still, he brushed his teeth, shaved. It was a beautiful early summer morning.

Even within the early hours of the day, heat was already setting in. Marcus opened the window and wondered what bouquet would best suit a summer bride.

Hydrangeas? No, wild roses are too late now…

Mulling it over, he savored a light breakfast. His beloved would probably wake at least an hour later. He didn’t wish to disturb her sleep, so he read the paper and teased Logan.

But Elouise didn’t show up for lunch either. Confused, Marcus asked a maid to check for the reason. His aunt, seated across from him, cleared her throat. Marcus laughed and joked,

“Auntie, you’re getting old. It’s already summer and you’re coughing—take care of your health.”

“You damn brat.”

She always expressed her love roughly, but today’s curse felt sharper than usual. Marcus tilted his head, but his aunt didn’t say more and left the table. Dessert—orange peels coated in chocolate—was served, but none was placed in front of Marcus. He frowned and asked his aunt,

“What’s this? I’m way past the age of sulking over being left out of dessert.”

“It isn't yours.”

“Then whose?”

“A gift.”

“You could’ve just eaten it alone. No need to flaunt it in front of me—ah.”

Marcus grinned.

“My wife gave this to you, didn’t she?”

His aunt's eyebrow twitched, but she remained silent. His smile deepened.

“It’s fine. A single kiss from my wife is a hundred times sweeter than some chocolate.”

With that, Marcus stood up. He was worried—his wife had gone to bed the night before after barely touching a slice of orange.

“I’ll be off!”

“Do as you please,” his aunt replied coldly, popping a piece of orangette into her mouth.

Cheerfully, Marcus made his way to Juliet’s room. However, the moment he opened the door, he froze, taken aback by the sight before him.

The room was a mess. The blanket was in disarray, and toys were scattered haphazardly across the floor. Many of them were broken, too. It looked as if a thief had ransacked the place. But if there really had been a break-in, there was no way his aunt would be eating breakfast so calmly.

Marcus recalled Juliet’s chaotic nature and figured the child must’ve gotten a little too excited again.

It turned out he was wrong.

In the meantime, he remained relaxed. Juliet was a restless child, always chasing new delights. And the woman he loved was always devoted to that child. He figured they might’ve gone off to the forest again.

But by the afternoon, when a messenger arrived to confirm that his father was indeed on his way to Cliff, Marcus began to feel uneasy.

Archibald Hanger—formerly Alejandro—had changed his name as he rose to prominence in the kingdom’s elite. He was a man of urgency. The moment he received Marcus’s message, he dispatched a servant to Cliff with an astounding reply:

“I’ll be there soon. I’ll depart on the train three hours after sending this message. Prepare accordingly.”

Not in three days—three hours!

Marcus couldn’t help but laugh at the haste, but he didn’t have the luxury to laugh for long. In just three hours, his father would be here. He leapt to his feet and headed for the forest. After all, Elouise Starwood, his refined and lovely partner, would never want to meet her lover’s father covered in dirt—or so Marcus believed.

He called for Logan and asked where Elouise had gone. His proud secretary answered with a sour look.

“Why are you asking me that?”

“…You don’t know?”

“No.”

Marcus had assigned Logan to accompany Elouise instead of a maid. Elouise was diligent to a fault—whether stepping out for a moment or heading into town, she always made sure to bring Logan, or at least inform him and take another maid instead. Marcus tilted his head.

If that’s the case, she must be somewhere within the mansion?

Logan gave a short answer.

“She’s probably in the forest.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Juliet’s with her, after all.”

Juliet loved the forest. Marcus didn’t know what exactly drew her there, but she went every day with Abigail, and he was aware of that routine.

He made his way to his aunt’s room to tell her about his father’s imminent arrival, but the maid informed him, “The Madam headed to the forest earlier.” Marcus nodded. It seemed his lover was there with Madam Noskina.

“Come to think of it… I never asked why Aunt called for El yesterday…”

“You never do,” Logan replied. “You only care about your own affairs.”

“That’s why I have you, Logan.”

Marcus poked Logan in the chest with a grin, then tilted his head again.

His aunt rarely showed interest in what he and Elouise were doing. She only nagged when they mingled with inappropriate company, but if they acted like proper adults, she didn’t interfere. And suddenly, Marcus began to feel a little worried.

“Logan… you don’t think my aunt is scolding Elouise out of the blue, do you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well… if she had a hunch Father might visit, she could be…”

Marcus began rambling about all the tales he’d heard—of sweet, kind in-laws turning into monsters after a marriage, or those who’d wait patiently, then suddenly tighten the reins on their daughters-in-law. Logan scoffed.

“If Madam Noskina were to pressure someone, wouldn’t you be first on the list?”

“…True. Wait—was that an insult?”

“I genuinely think you’re an excellent master, sir. You even double-check with calm certainty when your assistant insults you.”

“Logan!”

Marcus laughed and glared at him. Logan merely raised an eyebrow.

But time was running out. Preparing a lady’s appearance took time. Marcus stretched his long legs and strode into the forest.

The woods behind the Noskina estate weren’t deep, but once you advanced far enough, it took quite a while to leave. Marcus had no desire to see Elouise upset with him for being late.

About ten minutes into the forest, he spotted a familiar figure. His elderly aunt. She stood in a clearing with one maid, staring intently at something. Curious, Marcus walked closer.

What she was looking at was a miniature house made of stone. A model of some kind.

“Aunt? What is this?”

“Marcus.”

Madam Noskina finally turned to him.

“It’s nothing.”

“Raising a child on the side without telling me? It looks like a toy house… Wait. Don’t say anything—I’ll guess.”

Marcus smiled and brought a finger to her lips.

“You made it for Juliet, that darling girl, didn’t you?”

“I don’t have such hobbies.”

“No? Alright then. Anyway, have you seen El?”

His aunt replied blankly.

“Why would I know where your wife is?”

“Huh. I thought she was with you.”

Marcus scratched his head.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing serious, but… it might become serious for you. Father’s coming.”

“…Your father? I figured he might come, but he’s really coming today?”

“Yep. Just like we all predicted. So we need to find Elouise—fast.”

Marcus shrugged.

“She hates appearing before people looking unkempt.”

“I see. Then we’d better hurry.”

Madam Noskina spoke indifferently, as if it didn’t concern her, and started walking. Marcus asked:

“Where are you going?”

“To prepare to greet your father.”

“Well… he’s not coming for a gourmet feast, so no need to go overboard, right?”

His aunt scoffed at that.

“That’s what you think.”

Marcus shrugged again. To be fair, his father was someone who didn’t fuss over meals even at home. If anything, he found formalities uncomfortable—no matter who was hosting, even his own sister.

Marcus called after his aunt’s retreating back.

“I’ll look for El first!”

“Suit yourself.”

Without so much as glancing back, she walked off with light steps. Marcus shrugged.

Strange. Normally, she’d be scolding me for not having El ready the moment she knew Father was coming…

Well, no one is stiff all the time. Perhaps even Madam Noskina just wanted to take it easy today. With that thought, Marcus turned and walked deeper into the forest.

---

Naturally, Marcus failed to find the woman he loved within the forest.

Sensing something was off, he searched the entire estate. He never once considered that she might have gone to the marketplace. After all, Madam Noskina’s carriage had remained in the inner house since morning. The horses, still snorting in their stalls, bore no signs of having been taken out.

In the meantime, Archibald Hanger arrived.

He was a gentleman with a finely groomed mustache and graying brown hair slicked back with pomade, impeccably dressed from head to toe.

The maids widened their eyes at his suit, which embodied the latest capital city fashion. No sooner had he stepped down from the carriage than he cried out with joy, “My daughter-in-law! Where is my daughter-in-law?” But when he noticed that only Madam Noskina had come to greet him, his joy quickly turned to confusion.

He ended up waiting a while, only to see his idiot son shuffle into the drawing room with hair tousled like a bird’s nest. Archibald’s patience wore thin—an unusual occurrence for him.

“Marcus! Where is your wife? Why have you come alone?”

“Father, welcome. And…”

“Damn it! I knew it!”

At the sight of his son's hesitation, Archibald seemed to have jumped to his own conclusion.

“You scoundrel—you’ve broken her heart again, haven’t you!”

“No, it’s not like that…”

“No. No more excuses, Marcus.”

The old gentleman raised a stern hand, cutting off his son.

“I’ve had enough of your whims. I heard you even held the wedding! This is it. There’s no turning back.”

“Father, please just listen—”

“There’s no need to! Go fetch that admirable young lady! It seems you’ve made her cry again, Marcus. I won’t let you off this time. For every tear she’s shed, I’ll give her a diamond as a wedding gift.”

Marcus grew frustrated. He hadn’t even found out where Elouise had gone, yet his father wasn’t listening to a single word and just kept ranting.

Marcus Hanger shared more than a few traits with his father—showy, impulsive. Though business had mellowed him somewhat, Archibald, especially with family, always acted on impulse. He continued.

“Marcus, you think you’re my only heir? Absolutely not. I’ve rewritten my will. My entire fortune will go to your wife. I’ve signed it under the name Elouise Hanger! His Majesty the King himself witnessed it—clapping like a seal from those southern isles and putting his signature on the document!”

“…Is that true, brother?”

Madam Noskina, who had been silently listening, asked in disbelief. Archibald laughed heartily.

“Of course! When Marcus finally settled down, the social circles rejoiced! His Majesty signed without hesitation!”

“…Then…”

“Yes! If Marcus gets divorced, he won’t receive a single penny! It’ll all go to Gloria!”

Madam Noskina fell silent, her face turning pale. Archibald patted her shoulder cheerfully.

“Don’t worry. My son’s not that much of a fool!”

But Madam Noskina didn’t respond. Archibald thought his sister, who was always complaining about Marcus, was simply grumbling again and paid it no mind.

“Marcus!”

Just then, as Archibald called out to him, Marcus’s secretary Logan appeared at the drawing room door. Marcus, who had just been about to speak to his father, quickly turned his head and frowned at Logan’s expression. His face was pale. Logan rarely showed much emotion, so this change was significant.

“Logan? What’s wrong?”

“You should come with me, sir. Right away.”

“Why?”

It was Archibald, not Marcus, who responded. He stood abruptly and strode over to Logan. Taller and broader than Marcus, Archibald loomed so that Logan had to tilt his head slightly to meet his eyes. Archibald narrowed his brow.

“Did my daughter-in-law say she can’t live with Marcus? Is she heartbroken? So distraught she won’t even come out?”

“…Well—”

Logan hesitated. Archibald, frustrated, shoved him forward.

“Let’s go! No matter what this fool did, I’ll apologize and fix it myself!”

Logan wavered. Marcus had a sinking feeling. He had never seen Logan hesitate like this—not once since hiring him. But Archibald was insistent, and Logan eventually slumped his shoulders and led the way. Marcus followed close behind.

The three men arrived at the master bedroom. The wardrobe and nightstand drawers, which Marcus remembered closing, were now open. Logan, stammering, confessed that he had taken the liberty of opening them.

“Sir. The diamonds… are gone.”

“…What?”

“The hat she liked, her favorite ostrich feather slippers—they’re gone too. Not much else is missing, but…”

It wasn’t theft. That much was certain. Marcus felt his mind go blank.

…and now, they had arrived at this point.

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