DTS - Chapter 63


Dorothea took her eyes off Dane, who seemed to have understood the gist of it, bowed to Marilyn again, and greeted her politely.

“What happened today was my fault. If I had warned him in advance, that fool wouldn’t have dragged Young Lady in, no matter how thoughtless he was.”

She was very polite.

Marilyn rolled her eyes in puzzlement at Dorothea's words.

It was clear to her that she didn't think this was something worth apologizing for.

Indeed, in an aristocratic society, status and family prestige determine everything. Even if Dorothea had committed an even greater rudeness, Marilyn would not have been able to protest.

“Lady Lehr.”

“...”

“I know what Young Lady is worried about.”

In case she get caught up in a faction.

And she was afraid that she would wander around aimlessly and make the 7th Prince relive his wrath.

Dorothea, who had seen through Marilyn's very confused mind in many ways, smiled calmly. She should cool down Marilyn's mind, which was busy guessing the meaning behind her actions.

“I just don’t want to pay the price for my karma over these little things.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I believe in karma.”

Dorothea turned around and smiled again at Marilyn, who was looking at her bewilderedly as if asking what on earth she was talking about.

The anticipation that had been in Freed's eyes when he came near him disappeared as if the tailing had disappeared.

“Dane, once you’re done with your statement, I’ll take Lady Marilyn back to the mansion and tell the Baron how sorry I am for getting her involved in such a useless matter.”

“Hey... Lady.”

Leaving Marilyn behind, who was calling Dorothea as if possessed, Dorothea headed towards the carriage she had come in in a leisurely and leisurely manner, unlike the first time.

***

The night guest stood before the door of the most noble lady in the mansion.

As always, Freed, who was standing by Dorothea's side, noticed him and quietly stepped aside.

“You’re late.”

“It doesn’t seem that late. Does it look that way?”

Philip took off his hood and came over silently and sat down next to her.

“I’ll have to keep Wood by Dane’s side for the time being.”

“The amulet worked properly.”

The question was whether there was any reason to even attach Wood.

Since Colin had been entrusted with so many things, it was obvious that it would be quite difficult if Wood, who was assisting him, was left to depend solely on Dane.

When Philip added a word, however feeble, to the busy father, Dorothea muttered, resting her chin on her hand.

“It may be good to show them the ‘gaps’ of being clueless, but it’s a problem if you get other people involved without even realizing it.”

Philip smiled faintly.

Even though Dorothea said that, didn't she rush to the scene of the accident even when she didn't know that Marilyn was involved in the incident?

Even though she knew that Dane was safe because the amulet had been activated at the right time, she had to confirm it with her own eyes.

“So? What about those who touched the carriage?”

“There are no witnesses. However, the handling of the matter was sloppy. They don’t seem to be the people we are chasing. If they were, they wouldn’t have entrusted the work to a mere mercenary guild.”

Philip handed over the guild's request letter, although it was not known how he got it.

Dorothea tilted her head slightly as she noticed a very familiar pattern at the bottom of the request form.

“Unfortunately, this incident was a man-made disaster.”

“It must have been you who was following our carriage. If it were me, I would have sent a ‘silent presence’ that could escape the keen eyes of Freed.”

They will also be twice as careful when approaching them.

She thought she finally caught the tail, but it turned out to be a human ankle.

Dorothea leaned back, feeling slightly dispirited.

She was rolling around in her soft blanket like a child and soon answered simply.

"Leave it alone."

“Is that okay?”

“I plan to meet them soon. Then I can find out what they’re thinking.”

Wouldn't it be a disaster if you scare them for no reason and they hide?

Besides, there was no reason to miss the chance to see Revan's pale face.

***

“Yes... why is it here...”

Revan, who had come out to greet them in front of the theater with a bright smile on his face, turned pale when he saw the figure getting out of the carriage with Count Germain.

It was exactly the face Dorothea had been waiting for.

Unlike his appearance, which has become much more sophisticated than in the past, he still has an old habit of not being able to use his legs when it comes to money, and his face looks like he is about to fill his back pocket.

Even Dorothea greeted Revan with a smile, very kindly, as he covered his mouth to hide the rising hiccups.

“Oh, where does it hurt?”

“Oh, no, no, that’s not it.”

Dorothea turned her gaze to the Count, who was watching her shoulders shrug and make a desperate effort to hold his breath.

“Please come into the theater. I will guide you.”

“I will gratefully accept Young Lady’s kindness.”

“What? It’s a very reassuring thing that you’d like to support an extreme group like mine.”

An old gentleman with gray hair walked slowly.

Dorothea entered the theater and whispered quietly to Revan, who was frozen at the entrance.

“I hope the meal was really delicious today.”

Revan flowed down the wall like water at her threat, which wasn't really a threat, that he might as well enjoy the meal since it might be his last.

Dorothea laughed heartily at the sight of him and walked ahead, guiding the Count.

The Prince brought workers from his palace to renovate this theater building.

Since they brought in the best and brightest in the field, it was only natural that the structure and layout of the building would be incomparable to that of ordinary buildings.

“There are more members than I thought.”

“That means there are a lot of children who are thrown out onto the streets without their parents. And the number will continue to increase.”

“...”

“His Highness said that the nobles also have to help them not go down the wrong path.”

Even though they knew the meaning, few nobles actually stepped forward to support it.

The first reason is that directly 'helping the lower classes' damages the dignity of the nobility, and the second reason is that they do not want to get involved in vulgar entertainment that only the lower classes would watch and enjoy.

'It would obviously be better to let them earn their own money than to give them food and clothing through charity fundraisers.'

Dorothea then kindly guided them to the children's dormitory, the practice room where they practiced their performances, and the waiting room underneath the curtain.

The old gentleman, walking slowly as he listened to her, seemed to be deep in thought.

“Young Lady runs this place much better and more thoroughly than I thought.”

"Is that so?"

“Because the order is well-maintained, even if people don’t know the etiquette, they behave carefully and their attitude doesn’t seem disrespectful.”

Dorothea, who had been listening to him silently, suddenly asked.

“What and how does your Count intend to support?”

If he simply wants to donate money, he can simply send someone to hand over a check or promissory note, and that's it.

However, the fact that someone of the rank of a Count personally expressed his intention to support and visited to talk must mean that he had some other conditions he wanted to meet.

“Have you any intention of getting more nobles to support this theater?”

"For example?"

“I know a few playwrights. If they put on proper performances in addition to the ones that are full of provocative elements like the ones you have now, other nobles won’t be as reluctant to go to the theater as they are now.”

The smile on Dorothea's lips deepened.

As expected, what he wanted was very clear.

It was quite dignified of him to get straight to the point and get to her without any useless probing.

He had been in business since he was young, and he had a face that knew that in some cases, it was better to negotiate what you want than to think about it.

Dorothea, who was staring blankly at the deep human pattern among the wrinkles, asked.

“Does that mean you don’t like the show right now?”

“I can help you make a better show. I know the audience’s tastes better than Young Lady.”

“I have no intention of turning this theater into a playground for the aristocrats.”

They would rather see difficult, complex, and sometimes even incomprehensible performances than easy, enjoyable, and interesting performances that suit their class and that anyone can see.

Seeing such things, she could vividly see people proudly sticking out their chests, thinking that they were acting 'high'.

“Is it because you don’t like the performance I’m putting on right now that it doesn’t fit the standards of the nobles, or is it because it will tarnish your son’s name and ruin the reputation of the Count?”

The Count met Dorothea's eyes, without a trace of surprise, but with a faint smile on his face.

His calm and deep eyes held the weight of the years he had lived.

His eyes, which showed traces of a hard and painful life, even showed fatigue.

“It’s much easier for me to talk about that child since Young Lady told me about it first.”

The Count admitted calmly.

“In the play ‘Fatima,’ Young-Master’s name never appears. This is solely her story.”

It is a story of a woman who was able to love someone purely, and a very sad and painful story of a woman who was unable to show her face to others until the moment of her death, which had been moving slowly, stopped.

He nodded after a moment of silence with his eyes closed.

“He was fortunate that he did not have to shoulder the heavy responsibility of bringing glory to his family like my brother, nor did he suffer from the difficulties of birth, and he grew up without ever lacking anything thanks to his family’s wealth.”

“Do you regret raising him like that?”

“When you do business, you meet a lot of people. Some of them are so worn out and obsessed with getting their own way. I really hated people like that.”

“...”

“So I thought I could raise that kid with some freedom. But I didn’t know he would grow up so recklessly.”

The Count slowly opened his closed eyes and met Dorothea's gaze seriously.

He didn't yell, threaten, bribe her with money or try to manipulate her into doing what he wanted.

“I have a sick wife.”

“...”

“I can’t tell her the truth. The therapist said she’ll be dead in three months at the longest, or less than a month at the fastest.”

Dorothea looked at the Count as if she was surprised.

The 'family situation' he revealed was a bit different from what she had thought.

“I’m not talking about the grievances of the dead, but I’m asking that the play be stopped for a moment for the sake of my wife who is still alive.”

It was a very polite request.

Dorothea blinked at the action, which was completely incongruous with blowing up a carriage.

The eyes of the old gentleman in front of her were quite tired and full of pain, but they were very sincere.

'From the beginning, there was no need to insist on providing support; they could have just dealt with the entire group.'

It was all the more true when she considered the audacity and brutality with which they had attacked the Highclere family's carriage in broad daylight.

So, the Count in front of her may be a different person from the villain in the carriage.

Dorothea, who had been lost in thought after hearing the Count's earnest, most earnest, and most polite request, asked.

“If it’s sponsorship, we have more than enough thanks to the Princes. There’s no need to ask for help from the Count or others.”

“...”

“However, if Your Excellency would personally investigate ‘that’ incident that occurred a few days ago, I would be able to seriously consider your request.”

Regarding family matters, it would have been better to leave it up to him to handle it himself.

Dorothea added, smiling at the Count who was looking at her with a puzzled look.

“For the time being, the play will be temporarily suspended from being performed on stage ‘for a more perfect performance.’”

The Count nodded and said, “Thank you,” as he looked at the girl younger than his own daughter who had made such an unusual request.

So Dorothea planned to rest quietly in her mansion for a while, for the first time in a long time... but her plans were disrupted by strange rumors circulating in the capital.

There was a rumor that the missing youngest son of Count Germain was coming every night and killing people.


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