Chapter 163

The Winslet County was beginning to appear in the distance.

At the edge of the vast plains, where the land suddenly grew rugged like a poorly folded towel, lay the natural boundary that separated Lofield from the territory of the Winslet County.

I, who was riding at the front of the column, glanced back.

A few cavalrymen, the carriage carrying Dahlia, and the soldiers of the Lofield lords were all following in orderly succession.

Turning my gaze forward again, I saw a force of similar size waiting to meet us.

No… “meet” might not be the right word. “Confront” felt more appropriate.

The army of House Winslet stood on the hill with a grim and imposing formation.

There even seemed to be a few cannons positioned on both wings of their formation…

Quite the hostile welcome for a homecoming.

I signaled to the troops behind me to halt, then urged my horse forward alone.

As I approached, a knight who was likely the commander rode out to meet me.

Without so much as a salute, he barked at me:

“What business brings you here, Baron Winslet?”

“You’re asking a man why he’s returning to his own home? Looks like you’ve already forgotten my face, Sir Joseph.”

“Even after ten years, you remember the name of this old man. Have you been missing the family all this time?”

Whether I remembered or not didn’t matter. I was seeing this man for the first time in my life.

I had simply gathered as much information as I could while traveling through the Lofield territories.

Pretending to show curiosity about how my long-lost family was doing made it surprisingly easy to learn the details of House Winslet’s members.

At the top of House Winslet was Count Edward Winslet….Winter Winslet’s father and the final decision-maker.

The Countess, Isabella Winslet, had passed away from postpartum fever not long after giving birth to her second child.

That second child was none other than Anna Winslet, Winter’s younger sister and the current heir to the house.

And the man now standing before me, Sir Joseph, was the Count’s longtime confidant and loyal knight.

Though not related by blood, he was acknowledged as a member of the household.

Aged now, but once the sharpest fang of House Winslet…he had silenced many of the family’s political enemies in his prime.

The fact that he was the one to come out here…

What could that mean?

Was he here to greet an important guest or had he come as an enemy, ready to bare his fangs?

“So, my father sent you. Am I to take that as a sign that he’s pleased to see me?”

“That’s half right and half wrong. It’s true that the Count sent me. But surely you don’t think we’re here to welcome you, not when you see the army behind me?”

Though we shared no blood, he was considered part of the Winslet household.

“I was hoping you’d come shower me with flower petals to celebrate the return of the firstborn.”

“It’s because of the army you’ve brought with you, Baron Winslet. Why did you bring them? Are you planning to start a war?”

“A war? Hardly. They’re just part of the ceremony.”

“Ceremony?”

“I made a few friends recently, you see. They must’ve been too sad to part ways, so they insisted on escorting me home with guards and all. Generous, aren’t they?”

Of course, the truth was that the Lofield lords’ soldiers had come with me to retrieve their hostages.

They believed I had cast a heart-melting curse on each of their young heirs, and since I’d promised to release them at the Winslet County border, they had no choice but to follow.

Sir Joseph, unaware of that arrangement, simply furrowed his brow in confusion.

“In any case, turn back. This is not your home.”

“You’re saying the Winslet County is no longer the home of Winter Winslet?”

“That’s right. Not since the moment you abandoned your family ten years ago.”

“I figured you’d say that. That’s why I brought gifts.”

“…What?”

“It’s customary to bring gifts when visiting someone else’s home, isn’t it?”

As I said that, I raised a thumb and pointed behind me.

There, stacked on carriages, were all the “gifts” I’d collected touring the Lofield territories. They were basically ransoms paid for the safe return of their hostages.

Luxury goods, artworks, jewels, wines whose prices were beyond measure….honestly, these were far too extravagant even for ransom payments.

Some of them had been offered not under pressure, but willingly.

For provincial noble houses, which were always envious of and starving for central high society culture, someone who was the most popular figure in the royal capital’s social circles was a guest worth paying to invite.

Even the family of Francis Duville whom I had rendered incapable of producing heirs had invited me to stay at their manor.

Dahlia, who was treated as a distinguished guest just for being my attendant, had to leave behind more than five crates of gifts because they wouldn’t fit in her luggage.

So it was no wonder Sir Joseph’s face twisted with speechless disbelief when he saw the scale of the “gifts” I’d brought.

“…It seems your sense of humor has improved over the years.”

“So? Is this enough to show my sincerity?”

Joseph sighed and finally replied.

“I shall escort you to the castle, young master.”

***

The Winslet Castle was an elegant structure. Its red terracotta roof and cream-coloured limestone walls stood out beautifully.

Limestone, being softer than other stones, combined with the overly large and numerous windows, clearly showed that the castle had been built with aesthetics and livability in mind rather than practicality or defense.

That kind of beauty was a symbol of power….one only enjoyed by noble houses so strong that the threat of invasion wasn’t even a concern.

On either side of the large, towering main gate hung flags bearing the Winslet family’s emblem: a crocus flower.

In the deep, clear moat, ornamental fish swam leisurely.

In the front courtyard, House Winslet’s elite soldiers stood in formation as if cut and aligned by sword, and inside, the household staff awaited us in ghost-like silence.

Their stiff expressions and rigid movements made them seem like a single organism (House Winslet’s immune system) reacting to me as a foreign invader.

The one who suffered most from the tense atmosphere was Dahlia.

As she stepped out of the carriage and walked the short distance toward the entrance, she was so nervous that she tripped and fell twice.

The fact that she still scurried after me without complaint, determined not to embarrass me, was honestly commendable.

As for me… well…

Back when I was a player of Candela of Judgment, I’d lost a civil war and been hanged.

Compared to that, this kind of pressure was nothing.

I could just as easily lie down right here on the marble floor and take a nap.

Walking ahead of me, Sir Joseph turned to an elderly butler and asked,

“Where is the master right now?”

“He’s waiting for your arrival in the study.”

“I’ll head up now. Alone.”

“Huh? Then, what about Baron Winslet…”

Sir Joseph cut off the elderly butler.

“Butler Woods.”

“Yes, sir. Please speak.”

“See to it that our guest doesn’t get lost, and show them where they’ll be staying. Also, notify the kitchen. Make sure there’s no lack in the meals prepared for our guest.”

The word “guest” repeated twice was a directive to the servants of this manor:

Treat Winter Winslet strictly as an outsider.

That was the message.

The old butler Woods bowed his head.

“As it happens, the annex is vacant. It would be appropriate for them to unpack there.”

They weren’t even letting me sleep under the same roof.

At first, I thought they were just trying to spite the firstborn of the family who had returned after ten years…childishly, at that.

But soon, it became clear that I was mistaken.

I had no idea.

The real torment hadn’t even begun yet.

“Well, look who actually came crawling back. What kind of nerve does it take to show your face here? Have you no shame?”

A sharp voice rang out from the spiral staircase connected to the second-floor gallery.

A blonde woman stood gripping the railing.

She wore a black dress reminiscent of mourning attire, and her face was so beautiful that it almost clashed with the somberness of her clothes.

The cold, proud impression and well-proportioned frame came together in a way that unmistakably reminded me of someone.

It went without saying who that was.

Winter Winslet….me.

With such an eerily identical appearance, there was no room for doubt.

That woman and I had to share the same blood.

“Anna Winslet.”

“Don’t go calling my name so casually, will you?”

That was the moment I became 150% certain she was my younger sister.

If I had to guess, that venomous way of speaking must be something passed down in the Winslet bloodline.

“Don’t you have anything to say? You leeched off every bit of support from this family just to barely become a 7th-class mage, and then ran off chasing after some woman, abandoning us. If I were you, I’d have gotten down on my knees the moment I stepped through that gate, begging to be taken back.”

“Seems like you’re under a bit of a misunderstanding…”

I hadn’t come back to beg them to take me in.

That’s what I wanted to say—

But I was cut off.

Anna Winslet’s venomous gaze had already shifted past me, landing on Dahlia as her next target.

“Is that your new lover? Charming taste. Real classy.”

“Watch your mouth. You’ll regret that.”

“Oh? How protective. Don’t tell me she’s not your lover but the daughter of that woman you ran off with? At this rate, maybe the girl’s aiming for my spot as heir too?”

I couldn’t respond to that.

And the fact that I couldn’t—

That threw me off.

Thinking back, this was the first time since becoming Winter Winslet that someone had spoken to me with such blatant disrespect.

That was what was rattling me.

…You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Stop it!”

As I stood there, stunned into silence, someone else stepped forward in my place.

Anna Winslet, the servants filling the hall, and I all turned in surprise toward the voice’s owner.

It was Dahlia…the same Dahlia who’d been trembling like a frightened lamb just moments before now speaking out loudly and clearly.

“My master isn’t like that. We’re not in that kind of relationship, either.”

“And what gives you the right to speak? Shut that filthy mouth of—”

Anna Winslet cut herself off mid-sentence.

Because Dahlia had done something unexpected.

She held both of her bare hands out in front of her.

The grotesque, dark-red burn scars…something Dahlia always went to great lengths to keep hidden were now fully exposed.

Most people in the hall grimaced at the sight, and one servant even gagged.

Dahlia continued speaking, calmly and quietly.

“This is the illness I suffer from. My parents died from the same disease. I was destined to die from it too. But my master, Baron Winslet, found me and saved me. He brought me here to monitor the progress of my illness and to treat me. Please believe me.”

I let out a sigh.

She could endure being insulted herself, but not her master.

That unwavering loyalty of Dahlia who was willing to stand up for her master no matter what was something I could applaud.

But unfortunately, she’d picked the wrong opponent this time.

My sister, Anna Winslet, was someone who could go toe to toe with Winter Winslet when it came to sheer attitude.

There was no way she’d be swayed by such an emotional plea…

Or so I thought.

It turned out to be surprisingly effective.

Anna Winslet’s eyes suddenly widened, and she started fidgeting, clearly flustered.

“Ah, I-I didn’t know… I mean…”

“Someone like me being by his side might’ve lowered my master’s dignity. I’m truly sorry. But please don’t criticize the kindness of the one who saved me.”

“Th-That’s not what I meant…”

Anna Winslet’s face turned bright red, like her brain had overloaded, and in the end, she fled the scene.

Leaving behind just one final word:

“Hmph!”

“……”

No way.

Could it be?