“Would you kindly grant me a moment alone with my wife? I’d like to spend some private time with her,” Igor abruptly interjected.
Rihannan cast a surprised glance at him, disappointed that her reunion with her cousin, Dimitri, would be cut short. Since her mother’s passing, she had been disconnected from her Chrichton relatives. Only upon reaching adulthood did she discover that her father intentionally severed their communications, fearing that Rihannan would escape his grasp and the influence of her foreign family.
However, she had no choice but to acquiesce to Igor’s request. Rihannan lowered her head in submission, concealing her disappointment.
Dimitri, observing her distress, felt powerless against the will of Arundell’s king. He lacked the authority to defy him, at least for now.
“Rhia is a remarkable young woman. Take good care of her. She is truly precious to me,” Dimitri expressed sincerely.
Igor smiled, his words laced with a subtle warning. “I appreciate your counsel, but my wife is no longer a child. It is time to abandon the use of her nickname. I also expect you to maintain a respectable distance from her. Times have changed, and I hope you heed my advice henceforth.”
“Of course,” Dimitri responded, his voice tinged with resignation.
With that, their conversation concluded.
Igor led Rihannan to her quarters.
That night, he engaged in the most brutal act she had ever experienced. What used to be a brief encounter stretched on tirelessly, consumed by his fiery anger. He plunged into her repeatedly, a forceful manifestation of his rage.
As dawn approached, Rihannan found herself utterly drained. She could not summon the strength to lift a finger and soon succumbed to sleep. Igor, too, wore the mask of exhaustion, though his countenance bore a desperation she had never witnessed before.
When she awoke in the afternoon, Igor was nowhere to be found. The cold, vacant sheets beside her indicated that he had departed long ago.
That marked the end of their nights together.
Before long, Rihannan succumbed to her father’s subtle threats and succumbed to Leticia’s entry into the palace. It seemed to be the sole path to obtain her father’s fabricated affection. And so, Leticia received an invitation to the royal ball.
The Queen’s stunning half-sister swiftly became the talk of the noble ladies. Yet, the most scintillating gossip revolved around the royal intrigue. The King brazenly defied convention, dancing with Leticia multiple times throughout the grand event.
Following the ball, rumors of a scandal within the royal court spread like wildfire. Many deemed it inevitable. It was widely known that the King harbored no affection for the Queen, who had been a close confidante of the late Queen. Furthermore, their marriage had remained childless for years.
One thing became clear—Rihannan was nothing like her father. After the royal ball, Count Alessin openly declared that the late Queen should relinquish her power to the new King and step aside. And if Leticia were to bear the King’s child, no one would dare challenge Count Alessin’s decree.
And, as time passed, power would inevitably shift from Hertia Cesca to Igor Cesca. Thus, the focus turned to the King’s lack of love for his Queen. Divorce seemed to be on the horizon, especially considering she had not borne him an heir.
Then, one day, amidst the ongoing rumors that burdened Rihannan’s heart, she discovered new life flourishing within her womb. The child he had so ardently desired was finally coming to fruition.
However, as Rihannan reminisced about that time, she was struck by a sharp pain in her heart. While carrying her own unborn child, the vivid memory of Leticia’s belly swelling with life remained etched in her mind.
Before long, tragedy struck, and Rihannan suffered a heartbreaking loss. Bereft and abandoned by Igor, she found herself devoid of purpose and will to live.
Drinking the poison that Leticia had given her held no regrets. She would make the same choice again if given the chance. Even without it, she knew death awaited her—a gruesome fate that involved public humiliation, a severed tongue, and a decapitated head, displayed before the masses.
“I understand, Miss. Let us depart at the earliest opportunity,” Mary reassured, observing the darkening expression on Rihannan’s face. “I will gather and pack our belongings, ensuring we have everything we need. You needn’t concern yourself with the rest,” Mary offered.
“Thank you, Mary,” Rihannan expressed her gratitude.
“You’re most welcome, Miss. If we aim to depart within two days, I can commence the packing immediately,” Mary suggested.
“First, we must secure a ship. Please find one for us, Mary. Thank you. We don’t require an entire vessel reserved solely for us. It would suffice to have other passengers on board,” Rihannan instructed.
“Yes, Miss. Rest assured, you can trust me,” Mary replied, a reassuring smile gracing her lips as she placed her hand over her heart.
“Kindly inform Jeffrey to join us inside as we leave,” Rihannan requested.
“As you wish, Miss.”
Mary left the room to seek out the elderly butler, Jeffrey. After some time, a knock echoed on the door, signaling his timely arrival. He entered, and Rihannan gestured towards the chair beside her.
“Have you been waiting long, Lady Rihannan? I apologize,” Jeffrey spoke with a hint of concern.
“No, not at all. I had a lengthy conversation with Mary as well. Please, have a seat. We have much to discuss,” Rihannan offered, her gaze focused on Jeffrey, his aged face displaying a range of emotions.
“I am grateful for your assistance, Jeffrey. Your actions have not gone unnoticed,” Rihannan expressed her gratitude.
Had Jeffrey succumbed to the Count’s orders and imprisoned her, her path would have taken a different turn. Count Alessin had planned to cut off all communication between Rihannan and her Crichton relatives and the Queen, using the excuse of her falling ill or her mental instability following her mother’s demise.
And people would have believed it.
It was a plausible excuse, after all.
They would readily accept the idea of an illegitimate child being brought into her noble father’s household.
Such occurrences were not uncommon.
Both Leticia and Rihannan had lost their mothers. They thought it would create a shared bond of grief between the two ladies.
Jeffrey shook his head. “No, Lady Rihannan. I simply did what I believed to be right.”
“I understand that it was not easy to turn a blind eye to the master you have served for so long. I’ve heard that you have been in my father’s service since his youth.”
“Yes…” Jeffrey’s eyes glistened with memories of Count Alessin’s carefree and youthful days. “Lady Rihannan, is there something you wish to convey?”
“I am preparing to depart for Crichton,” Rihannan revealed, her statement prompting Jeffrey to nod slowly.
“I had my suspicions. It would be the best course of action for you as well. Your Crichton relatives will provide you with strong support.”
“While I am away, I want you to oversee this estate,” Rihannan instructed.
Jeffrey’s eyes widened, momentarily taken aback. “The management here… the officials, the royal court… they…”
“I will entrust you with all the responsibilities and authority to oversee the estate. I will write you a letter every month,” Rihannan explained.
“But, Lady Rihannan, how can I…”
“If no one else, my father will eventually reclaim this house.”
The old butler let out a sigh, remembering the Count’s intense and fiery resentment. “…Very well. If that is your wish, then I shall accept.”
“Everyone in this mansion knows that Jeffrey is an exceptional butler and manager,” Rihannan remarked, her smile possessing a touch of playfulness as she unfurled a rolled piece of paper on the table—a map outlining her rightful lands. “Given the distance, it would be challenging for both of us to oversee all the properties. It is best to organize and consolidate. Let us sell the less productive lands and businesses, retaining only what is necessary. I require your assistance in this matter,” Rihannan proposed.
“That is a sound idea,” Jeffrey acknowledged. As the one who had spearheaded the estate’s management for many years, he possessed a greater understanding of the land’s economic situation than the Count or anyone else.
He began pointing out specific details that Rihannan would need to address and what should be left behind. Then, his finger rested upon an open field.
“The soil here is barren, rendering it unsuitable for cultivation. The area is littered with rugged stones, making it ill-suited for sheep or cattle. However, it does serve as a viable trade route. I suggest selling this area at a discounted price,” Jeffrey advised.
“No. Leave that place as it is,” Rihannan declared.
Jeffrey looked up at her, his eyes filled with curiosity. “But, Lady Rihannan, this land…”
“I understand your concerns. I have something in mind for that area. Just trust me and follow my instructions,” Rihannan assured him.
As the rightful owner of the land, it was best to allow her the freedom to act as she saw fit.
Concluding their discussion, Jeffrey gazed at Rihannan, who would depart for Crichton in just two days’ time. Leaving Arundell behind and settling in a foreign country was no small feat. Despite her closeness to her relatives, she was still a young girl, after all.
Jeffrey worried for her, but after today, she appeared different, and he believed she would fare well in Crichton.
He had faith in her.
“Would you kindly grant me a moment alone with my wife? I’d like to spend some private time with her,” Igor abruptly interjected.
Rihannan cast a surprised glance at him, disappointed that her reunion with her cousin, Dimitri, would be cut short. Since her mother’s passing, she had been disconnected from her Chrichton relatives. Only upon reaching adulthood did she discover that her father intentionally severed their communications, fearing that Rihannan would escape his grasp and the influence of her foreign family.
However, she had no choice but to acquiesce to Igor’s request. Rihannan lowered her head in submission, concealing her disappointment.
Dimitri, observing her distress, felt powerless against the will of Arundell’s king. He lacked the authority to defy him, at least for now.
“Rhia is a remarkable young woman. Take good care of her. She is truly precious to me,” Dimitri expressed sincerely.
Igor smiled, his words laced with a subtle warning. “I appreciate your counsel, but my wife is no longer a child. It is time to abandon the use of her nickname. I also expect you to maintain a respectable distance from her. Times have changed, and I hope you heed my advice henceforth.”
“Of course,” Dimitri responded, his voice tinged with resignation.
With that, their conversation concluded.
Igor led Rihannan to her quarters.
That night, he engaged in the most brutal act she had ever experienced. What used to be a brief encounter stretched on tirelessly, consumed by his fiery anger. He plunged into her repeatedly, a forceful manifestation of his rage.
As dawn approached, Rihannan found herself utterly drained. She could not summon the strength to lift a finger and soon succumbed to sleep. Igor, too, wore the mask of exhaustion, though his countenance bore a desperation she had never witnessed before.
When she awoke in the afternoon, Igor was nowhere to be found. The cold, vacant sheets beside her indicated that he had departed long ago.
That marked the end of their nights together.
Before long, Rihannan succumbed to her father’s subtle threats and succumbed to Leticia’s entry into the palace. It seemed to be the sole path to obtain her father’s fabricated affection. And so, Leticia received an invitation to the royal ball.
The Queen’s stunning half-sister swiftly became the talk of the noble ladies. Yet, the most scintillating gossip revolved around the royal intrigue. The King brazenly defied convention, dancing with Leticia multiple times throughout the grand event.
Following the ball, rumors of a scandal within the royal court spread like wildfire. Many deemed it inevitable. It was widely known that the King harbored no affection for the Queen, who had been a close confidante of the late Queen. Furthermore, their marriage had remained childless for years.
One thing became clear—Rihannan was nothing like her father. After the royal ball, Count Alessin openly declared that the late Queen should relinquish her power to the new King and step aside. And if Leticia were to bear the King’s child, no one would dare challenge Count Alessin’s decree.
And, as time passed, power would inevitably shift from Hertia Cesca to Igor Cesca. Thus, the focus turned to the King’s lack of love for his Queen. Divorce seemed to be on the horizon, especially considering she had not borne him an heir.
Then, one day, amidst the ongoing rumors that burdened Rihannan’s heart, she discovered new life flourishing within her womb. The child he had so ardently desired was finally coming to fruition.
However, as Rihannan reminisced about that time, she was struck by a sharp pain in her heart. While carrying her own unborn child, the vivid memory of Leticia’s belly swelling with life remained etched in her mind.
Before long, tragedy struck, and Rihannan suffered a heartbreaking loss. Bereft and abandoned by Igor, she found herself devoid of purpose and will to live.
Drinking the poison that Leticia had given her held no regrets. She would make the same choice again if given the chance. Even without it, she knew death awaited her—a gruesome fate that involved public humiliation, a severed tongue, and a decapitated head, displayed before the masses.
“I understand, Miss. Let us depart at the earliest opportunity,” Mary reassured, observing the darkening expression on Rihannan’s face. “I will gather and pack our belongings, ensuring we have everything we need. You needn’t concern yourself with the rest,” Mary offered.
“Thank you, Mary,” Rihannan expressed her gratitude.
“You’re most welcome, Miss. If we aim to depart within two days, I can commence the packing immediately,” Mary suggested.
“First, we must secure a ship. Please find one for us, Mary. Thank you. We don’t require an entire vessel reserved solely for us. It would suffice to have other passengers on board,” Rihannan instructed.
“Yes, Miss. Rest assured, you can trust me,” Mary replied, a reassuring smile gracing her lips as she placed her hand over her heart.
“Kindly inform Jeffrey to join us inside as we leave,” Rihannan requested.
“As you wish, Miss.”
Mary left the room to seek out the elderly butler, Jeffrey. After some time, a knock echoed on the door, signaling his timely arrival. He entered, and Rihannan gestured towards the chair beside her.
“Have you been waiting long, Lady Rihannan? I apologize,” Jeffrey spoke with a hint of concern.
“No, not at all. I had a lengthy conversation with Mary as well. Please, have a seat. We have much to discuss,” Rihannan offered, her gaze focused on Jeffrey, his aged face displaying a range of emotions.
“I am grateful for your assistance, Jeffrey. Your actions have not gone unnoticed,” Rihannan expressed her gratitude.
Had Jeffrey succumbed to the Count’s orders and imprisoned her, her path would have taken a different turn. Count Alessin had planned to cut off all communication between Rihannan and her Crichton relatives and the Queen, using the excuse of her falling ill or her mental instability following her mother’s demise.
And people would have believed it.
It was a plausible excuse, after all.
They would readily accept the idea of an illegitimate child being brought into her noble father’s household.
Such occurrences were not uncommon.
Both Leticia and Rihannan had lost their mothers. They thought it would create a shared bond of grief between the two ladies.
Jeffrey shook his head. “No, Lady Rihannan. I simply did what I believed to be right.”
“I understand that it was not easy to turn a blind eye to the master you have served for so long. I’ve heard that you have been in my father’s service since his youth.”
“Yes…” Jeffrey’s eyes glistened with memories of Count Alessin’s carefree and youthful days. “Lady Rihannan, is there something you wish to convey?”
“I am preparing to depart for Crichton,” Rihannan revealed, her statement prompting Jeffrey to nod slowly.
“I had my suspicions. It would be the best course of action for you as well. Your Crichton relatives will provide you with strong support.”
“While I am away, I want you to oversee this estate,” Rihannan instructed.
Jeffrey’s eyes widened, momentarily taken aback. “The management here… the officials, the royal court… they…”
“I will entrust you with all the responsibilities and authority to oversee the estate. I will write you a letter every month,” Rihannan explained.
“But, Lady Rihannan, how can I…”
“If no one else, my father will eventually reclaim this house.”
The old butler let out a sigh, remembering the Count’s intense and fiery resentment. “…Very well. If that is your wish, then I shall accept.”
“Everyone in this mansion knows that Jeffrey is an exceptional butler and manager,” Rihannan remarked, her smile possessing a touch of playfulness as she unfurled a rolled piece of paper on the table—a map outlining her rightful lands. “Given the distance, it would be challenging for both of us to oversee all the properties. It is best to organize and consolidate. Let us sell the less productive lands and businesses, retaining only what is necessary. I require your assistance in this matter,” Rihannan proposed.
“That is a sound idea,” Jeffrey acknowledged. As the one who had spearheaded the estate’s management for many years, he possessed a greater understanding of the land’s economic situation than the Count or anyone else.
He began pointing out specific details that Rihannan would need to address and what should be left behind. Then, his finger rested upon an open field.
“The soil here is barren, rendering it unsuitable for cultivation. The area is littered with rugged stones, making it ill-suited for sheep or cattle. However, it does serve as a viable trade route. I suggest selling this area at a discounted price,” Jeffrey advised.
“No. Leave that place as it is,” Rihannan declared.
Jeffrey looked up at her, his eyes filled with curiosity. “But, Lady Rihannan, this land…”
“I understand your concerns. I have something in mind for that area. Just trust me and follow my instructions,” Rihannan assured him.
As the rightful owner of the land, it was best to allow her the freedom to act as she saw fit.
Concluding their discussion, Jeffrey gazed at Rihannan, who would depart for Crichton in just two days’ time. Leaving Arundell behind and settling in a foreign country was no small feat. Despite her closeness to her relatives, she was still a young girl, after all.
Jeffrey worried for her, but after today, she appeared different, and he believed she would fare well in Crichton.
He had faith in her.
