"I'll tell him. He has to know, Elizabeth. If he finds out we hid it from him..."
"What if we tell him and he can't find them?" she interrupted. "Let's try to solve it ourselves first," she added with confidence.
Adela shifted her gaze from Elizabeth's face for a moment, as if her certainty had wavered slightly at the other woman's words.
"But..." she paused; then she fixed her eyes again, meeting the other woman's gaze. "He's going to Pradiles soon. He'll realize it sooner or later; we don't have much time, Elizabeth."
"That's exactly why we need to start working right now and stop arguing about this. I don't want to see him sad..." A soft, worried expression rarely seen on her face appeared.
The maid looked at her with understanding, but clenched her clothing in her fist, still doubtful.
"Then there's no time to waste," Adela concluded, her gaze now much more serious and determined.
...
A few years earlier, in a place within the vast Demor Empire.
"The Marquis Vane died some time ago and his widow hasn't paid what she owes us. I'll call Edrick to take care of it; if she doesn't pay..." the man's eyes darkened. "There are always other ways a woman can repay what her husband owes us."
"Isn't it dangerous to send Edrick? Even though House Vane is nearly fallen, it still holds its title, Hendrik."
The man who had been asked the question shook his head as a sly smile began to form on his face.
"Do you think the emperor will care what happens to the widow of an unimportant marquis? It's not as if we're talking about the empress's brother or the Windsteels with their ruthless army."
The eyes of the one who still seemed unsure narrowed.
"I suppose you're right. Where is she right now so we can inform Edrick?"
"She should be on her way to meet Count Varkas. That man is known for his greed, though it was always surprising that he married a woman from a humble house. I suppose, beyond the first point, the fact that he's easy to deceive is public knowledge," Hendrik replied in a contemptuous tone.
"Mmm, so she's trying to see if she can get something out of a fool."
"Desperate. She doesn't even realize that even if she somehow gets help from a minor count, there's no way she can pay everything her husband owes."
Meanwhile, at House Varkas, located in the county of the same name.
"Marquise Elizabeth, I am very excited to hear about the businesses you mentioned in your letter," Alexandro's eyes sparkled with excitement and greed.
Meanwhile, the marquise couldn't look him in the eye.
With a slightly hesitant and trembling movement, she nodded and smiled softly with feigned confidence.
"You will definitely like it, Count."
When she entered the mansion, the woman was surprised to see that it seemed in better condition and more luxurious than even her own marquisate. It looks like I wasn't wrong in choosing him... she thought, clenching her fist with determination.
The count wasted no time and enthusiastically introduced her to his family, making special mention of his eldest son, Elric Varkas, who seemed to have decent talent, although his sister Margery appeared more remarkable to her...
But the one who immediately caught her attention was the young man with hair as black as night; his violet eyes seemed to hold a mystery that attracted her as much as it terrified her.
What confused her more was when he was introduced.
"This is my youngest son, Cassian," Alexandro gave the boy an angry look. "Come on, introduce yourself to the marquise properly."
He merely made a lazy gesture with his hand and nodded, as if saying: "You've already heard it, no need for me to waste my time extending it."
Elizabeth frowned but decided not to give it importance. Instead, she focused on socializing with the countess, who seemed to have reacted quite strongly to Cassian's attitude.
"You see, a useless boy with no future. Don't pay him any attention, Marquise, he's not worth it. On the other hand, my son Elric is a thousand times better!" Eleanor said, lifting her chin with pride.
"I heard you also have two daughters, right?" the marquise asked.
"Oh yes! The youngest of all is Bethany, you'll surely meet her soon. As for the eldest, she's studying to become a minister," this last part also seemed to give the countess pleasure.
"I would love to meet them then. It sounds like you've given birth to wonderful children."
Eleanor's arrogant smile widened at those words, but she didn't reply.
Elizabeth simply gave a soft smile, keeping a poker face, and continued flattering the countess, who seemed particularly weak to such compliments.
The rest of the day passed with her talking to Eleanor and, finally, presenting her proposal to the count with sweetened words about the incredible opportunity he would miss if he didn't participate in the business she had planned...
At night, they showed her to her room and she threw herself exhausted onto the bed, her mind tired from keeping up a fake smile and telling lies as if she were drinking water. But even with the exhaustion, she decided to get up and go out for some air; she needed to clear her head a bit before she could lie down and sleep more peacefully.
The garden of House Varkas was quite extensive, but it wasn't well lit at night.
She wandered through it for a while, stopping in front of a fountain to breathe, letting out a choked sigh.
"Have the lies finally caught up with you?" a lazy voice echoed from the shadows, taking her by surprise.
She frowned, focusing her sight and trying to see who had spoken.
Lounging on the slightly damp grass against the trunk of a tree, with a relaxed and lazy posture, was the same young man she had met that day and whom she had criticized all day to get on Eleanor's good side.
"What lies are you talking about?" she asked, taking a few steps toward him to see the figure that seemed to blend into the night better.
But the young man didn't respond.
He only shrugged and looked at her fixedly, his violet eyes saying that she knew very well what he was talking about. She shook her head and turned around, ready to ignore him. But then his voice sounded again:
"I suppose the Vane gold mines are still full of it, and not of worthless dirt and stones."
Elizabeth stopped.
She turned to face him with an icy expression; she clenched her fist while biting her lip and, for a moment, it seemed as if she were about to cry.
"How do you know?"
But seeing that he didn't answer, she tried her hardest to compose herself, realizing something.
"Why haven't you told him? Your father is about to sign the purchase agreement."
"Well... I suppose I feel like that man needs a lesson, although..."
The young man stood up, approached her, and looked at her as if studying her.
He opened his mouth, about to say something, but then a figure suddenly appeared and lunged toward Elizabeth, trying to grab her.
He succeeded: he lifted her like a sack over his shoulder.
The marquise's scream of surprise was heard and her eyes dimmed as she looked toward Cassian, resigned; she knew this was going to happen sooner or later, since that loan house was known precisely for these kinds of practices.
She bit her lip and the tears began to flow strongly; she tried to resist by hitting the back of the man who was carrying her and moving away from House Varkas.
But then something changed.
The man carrying her suddenly stopped, motionless.
She took advantage of that moment to break free and fell to the ground, dirtying herself with the wet mud, but she didn't bother worrying about it; she got up avoiding slipping and ran toward the opposite side.
But perhaps it was the night that didn't let her see, or the anxiety of the moment that didn't let her think about where she was running, that she ended up crashing into someone's chest.
When she lifted her head, she saw the same young man she had met that day and who had given her so many emotions, with her tearful eyes, her clothes and face covered in mud, and her agitated breathing as she pressed her hands firmly against the man's chest she had collided with.
Suddenly, the anxiety began to fade slowly; the cold she hadn't even known she felt also disappeared, and her arms, which were touching the man's chest, didn't want to separate.
"I'll help you," the young man's monotonous and cold voice sounded, "and you will help me."