Chapter 42

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 42

Chapter Title: Damn Patek

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Edgar's yacht, the Catalina, arrived safely at Le Mont Port.

It was 6 a.m. on the 16th.

They had breakfast with sandwiches and coffee in the large waiting room of Le Mont Station while waiting for the train.

The train, which arrived right on time at 7 a.m., pulled into Leiden Central Station at 4 p.m.

Everything was going smoothly, as if they had the wind at their backs.

"Finish your errand and come straight to the hotel."

Gerald said as he opened the carriage door for Anne.

"Thank you. Really, thank you so much."

Anne bowed deeply twice in gratitude before hurriedly climbing into the carriage.

She had plenty of time, but her heart was racing. The carriage began rolling toward the Patek main store.

Once he confirmed the maid's carriage had disappeared from view, Edgar gave the order to depart.

What could possibly go wrong? Unless something unexpected happened, the maid who had taken Johann's birthday gift would return.

It was a simple task.

Even the simplest task on the surface always carried the potential for variables.

"Excuse me, wait a minute. Why are we turning around?"

It had been about ten minutes since the carriage started moving. Anne, lost in the cityscape passing by the window, jumped in surprise and shouted.

Gerald had told her the Patek main store was straight down the main avenue. But suddenly, the carriage veered off course.

"The road ahead is closed. Tram tracks are being repaired. Are you a tourist? Where are you from?"

Anne, flustered, threw a question back instead of answering.

"How much longer will it take this way?"

"It's just a ten-minute detour, don't worry."

At the driver's explanation, Anne pulled out her pocket watch. 4:20. Still okay.

Calming herself, Anne turned back to the window. But she had to call the driver again soon.

"...Wh-what's going on?"

The carriage gradually slowed and finally came to a stop.

"Well, isn't this just great."

The driver clicked his tongue and spat. He muttered as if talking to someone.

The side window to the driver's seat flew open.

"Her Majesty's procession is coming through the road ahead, so it's blocked off. Do you want to wait it out, or get off and run?"

The driver, who knew the situation from Gerald, asked with a troubled expression.

Anne opened the lid of the pocket watch clutched in her hand. 4:45.

"What would you do?"

"Me? I'd run like hell."

Anne leaped from the carriage and started running.

The crowds surging out to see the Queen were thick like storm clouds.

Her bag kept bumping into pedestrians waving Rondos national flags.

Anne clutched her worn-out bag to her chest and ran forward, eyes fixed ahead.

Then she collided shoulder-first with someone. Her body, running at full speed, lost balance and fell backward.

"Oh dear, are you all right?"

Tears welled up in her eyes. As Anne blinked, her vision whitening, the other person extended a hand.

Anne dazedly took the hand and staggered to her feet, slowly lifting her head.

The woman shouted.

"Oh my, Anne? Is that you, Anne?"

It was a maid from Great Hill. Anne's eyes widened.

It was that wench who had incited the other maids under Diane Brooke and treated the young miss so cruelly.

But even worse was the deep navy envelope in the maid's hand.

The ornate gold lettering stamped in the center of the paper bag gleamed in the fading sunlight.

Patek.

In that moment, Anne felt her heart stop.

Edgar sat on a single velvet sofa, reviewing documents about the International Bank with Gerald.

On the side table next to the sofa sat a glass of whiskey on the rocks.

Edgar set down the documents he had been skimming, stretched languidly like he was yawning, and leaned back against the sofa, reaching for his glass.

He tilted his head back, letting the cold liquor slide down his throat, and slowly scanned the room with a leisurely gaze.

The suite at the Leopold Hotel, where he always stayed ostentatiously whenever visiting Leiden, was as spare as Johann's personality—no frills whatsoever.

Unlike the stately Lancelot Hotel, it was modern to the point of being cold.

"That painting. Not bad."

At Edgar's comment, Gerald looked up from the report he had his nose buried in and turned toward the large frame hanging on the white wall at the foot of the bed. He clicked his tongue.

It was a garish splash of colors with no discernible form or pattern—just vibrant hues scattered haphazardly.

Whether it even qualified as art was debatable. Gerald shook his head.

"It's not even as good as Pophy walking around with paint on his paws. Shall I show you sometime?"

Edgar chuckled. Pophy was Gerald's dog, second only to his wife in his affections.

Edgar's gaze, which had been on the painting, swept halfway around the wall to the large wall clock.

He narrowed his eyes against the reflection glinting off the glass cover in the sunset light.

5:45. More than enough time for the maid to have returned.

Visiting her hometown after so long, she might have stopped to see friends. That was understandable.

As he set the glass down and lowered his eyes back to the documents with that thought, the room door burst open without a knock.

It was Olivia's maid.

The maid was on the verge of tears.

"Why didn't you just explain the situation and ask for it back?"

After hearing the full story, Gerald asked with an incredulous expression.

"She's not the type. She'd blow it up even bigger. She'd probably tip off the newspapers too—they offered her quite a sum."

Even with tears threatening, her voice carried indignation when speaking of the other maid.

"Well, isn't it over then?"

"N-no, not yet. Maybe not."

The maid vigorously shook her head, denying Gerald's words.

'...Wh-what's that?'

'Oh, this? It's the master's watch for repair. And this, I think it's his birthday gift. They said it was to be delivered to Great Hill, so I picked it up while I was there.'

Anne replayed her conversation with the maid, Matilda.

"She said she didn't know who sent the gift. So it's still..."

The maid's voice began to tremble as she trailed off.

Edgar nodded lightly.

"Wh-what do we do now? The young miss will face more humiliation... It's all my fault. I should have told you then... Because of me."

The maid's shoulders finally began to shake with sobs.

"Should I sneak in and get it? ...It's something the young miss ordered. Would that still be theft?"

Tears fell drop by drop onto the maid's clasped hands.

Edgar's gaze shifted from the maid to the trendy painting. He felt a twinge of irritation.

Soon, Olivia would be branded a shameless woman sending a gift—and a card whispering love—on her ex-husband's birthday, a man she was even engaged to once.

Damn Patek.

Of course, it was ordered before the divorce, but that meant nothing to the gossips.

Such truths held no importance for high society or the press.

For Edgar, who had crafted her image as the first woman to shatter the forbidden sanctuary, it would be a major blow.

Edgar slowly turned his head. The sun was setting beyond the large window.

A deep indigo twilight draped over the glittering cityscape.

He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them, his gaze sliding to the wall clock.

6:15. Just when dinner would be starting.

Edgar, who had been sitting motionless, slowly rose.

"Gerald."

"Yes, young master."

As he approached the liquor wagon lined with bottles, Edgar said,

"Prepare the carriage."

"Where to? Surely not... Young master? You can't be serious?"

Edgar merely lifted the corner of his lips. Gerald gasped in horror.

"You're really not going there, are you?"

"Who knows."

Stopping in front of the wagon, Edgar smiled faintly as he eyed the array of bottles. He hated bothersome affairs, but.

"It's been a while. Suddenly feeling nostalgic."

His tone was incredibly gentle, almost like he was speaking of a longed-for lover.

"You can't, young master!"

Ignoring the stern Gerald, Edgar reached into his trouser pocket with his right hand and picked up a bottle of champagne, saying casually,

"What, you gonna hit me or something?"

Gazing down at the sleek silver label gleaming smoothly, Edgar smirked crookedly.

"Put this in a box. Tie it with a pretty ribbon."

It was a gift he had carefully chosen, despite crashing the birthday party.

Moments later, a carriage carrying the dressed-up Edgar departed.

He's lost it. Completely mad. Of all places...

Gerald stared in stunned disbelief at the carriage heading toward Great Hill.

Lavish lights illuminated the grand garden of Great Hill. It had been a year since Duke Leopold's birthday banquet last year.

Guests began arriving early in the evening.

The servants stacked gift boxes handed over from the guests' attendants neatly in front of the fireplace.

Confirming the gifts piling up in a pyramid shape, the head butler headed to the banquet hall.

He inspected the tables set for the twelve-course meal, issuing corrections for any oversights, which were relayed downstairs.

The kitchen was a whirlwind of activity, with orders pouring in—no time to breathe.

At a time when every hand was needed, Matilda's return from her errand was delayed.

"That damn wench. Leaves us hanging at a time like this."

As the maids grumbled curses and sweated, Matilda was in front of the Leopold Hotel.

She had tailed Anne. Just in case that foolish duchess had come along too.

Anne had denied it flat-out, but how could she trust that? She had hurriedly caught a carriage to confirm with her own eyes.

There it was.

What maid's pittance salary could resist? Seeing Anne dash into the Leopold Hotel's main entrance, Matilda sneered.

The bastard child must have come too, without a doubt.

Olivia Blanchett appears in Leiden on her ex-husband's birthday. A provocation against the Krantz princess, or lingering attachment to her ex?

It was scoop material worth a pretty penny just imagining it.

How much to ask for? Thrilled at the thought of bargaining with the papers, Matilda suddenly startled and ran to the carriage stand.

She had completely forgotten she was out on an errand.

Only now did she recall the head butler's strict instructions: the master would wear this watch, so be back on time.