Garden of May

“Come here.”

“The sun will be up soon.”

He ignored the maid’s words and pulled her slender waist towards him. The maid let out a short gasp as her chest was caught before she could turn her body back around.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“If we do this… twice, can I get more money?”

“Don’t worry about money now, Mary. If this matter works out, you could even become a Countess.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Now that you understand, you should be a good girl…”

He pushed the maid towards the bookshelf, hiked up her skirt, and grabbed her b******s. Directly facing the portraits of the previous Counts hanging above, which seemed to look down upon this vulgar display, Mr. Wyatt let out a sharp laugh.

“I like it best when I’m mounting you like a dog right here.”

“…”

“This library was a place my biological mother was particularly fond of. She wanted to remove all the pretty maids from my sight.”

His father, and the portrait of his mother hanging beside him. Relatives just as noble as they were shuddered, convinced he was possessed by a demon from birth. They insisted it would be better to send someone like him to a monastery or the New World before he ruined the family’s reputation, warning that if they left him alone, he would only bring great harm to the Somerset name later on.

Of course, they were all dead ghosts now. His strict father, his mother who occasionally showered him with suffocating affection only when the mood struck her, and even his older brother who had been silent through all the terrible situations… In a way, his relatives’ worries were correct. After all, he was the one who ended up claiming all of their inheritance. Surviving meant being strong. Always.

‘Though all that remains now is a mere sliver of land.’

There was a time when he had sat contentedly amid the ruins left by their departure, systematically driving the glories of Somerset into the ground as revenge against the family who had abandoned him. The considerable savings that remained were spent paying off his private debts; he bought a villa and incessantly invited women over, and as promised, he gave some financial support to the gang he had been involved with before returning to the family. And he incurred even more debt in the name of Somerset.

The brakes began to be put on his endless, debauched life three years ago. With his money dried up, his heirlooms squandered on gambling, and all his investments ruined, the last thing he clung to was the moonshine business. Even then, he was reduced to scavenging for the scraps dropped by the true heavyweights.

‘But everything will be completely different now.’

The inheritance from his brother—which he had planned to sell off, like butchering a well-fed lamb at the right time—had brought him a new opportunity. A ticket to enter the inexhaustible golden land of Batenberg.

“Ah…”

A groan burst from the violently opened lips of the maid, like a celebratory cannon. A salute to the Golden Age of Somerset, which would be re-established in his generation.

This was his legacy, built upon death and betrayal.

***

The excuse of feeling unwell became a reality from early evening. Vanessa, who had gone to bed skipping dinner, tossed and turned with an unpleasant fever, only to wake up drenched in cold sweat. At first, it was difficult to distinguish between her dream and reality.

She had been plagued all night by a dream of someone chasing her. She thought she heard screams, saw a wolf dripping blood, or heard footsteps following close behind. In the end, the dim light of a failing headlight illuminated people lying fallen on the street.

It was such a deeply unpleasant nightmare that the thought of it sent shivers down her spine.

“Mary?”

Vanessa looked around the room, which was plunged into the deep blue darkness of pre-dawn, and raised her voice to call for the maid. She thought the maid slept in the next room, but no matter how hard she pulled the bell-pull, Mary didn’t come. Since there was no sign of anyone at all, it seemed she had left the room early this morning.

Vanessa waited a little longer until the sun had completely risen before getting out of bed.

She wanted to take a short walk before everyone was up. Just to clear her muddled head, and not for too long…

Gazing at the wardrobe, Vanessa decided to simply wrap a thin shawl over her nightgown, her chemise. Since she intended to go to the rose garden anyway, it would be fine not to get fully dressed. Even though Sergeant River Ross wouldn’t be there, at least she could avoid people’s eyes there. She walked quickly down the corridor and descended the stairs. It was the very moment she stepped into the first-floor hallway. Two men standing by the front door sensed her presence and turned their heads.

“Vanessa.”