Into the Rose Garden Novel - Chapter 15.1 Can’t escape

“But she was still my mother! She might have been an enemy to my father, but to me, she was my only mother!”

His sapphire eyes, like his own, blazed with fury, glaring resentfully at the man. The man could not understand why his beloved son was enraged at him. He had only tried to do what was best for their mother.

“I loved your mother. I couldn’t forgive the person who made her die so miserably.”

“My mother! She was the one who died by your hand, Father! Please! Don’t deceive the truth any longer!”

“Your mother isn’t that person, she’s Raphiel Westport! You were named after her because you resembled her!”

“…I don’t need a name like this. I’m not Raphiel anymore. If you named me after my mother, you should have called me…”

The old man, filled with rage, raised his hand, and the grown young son glared back at his father without backing down. The hand raised in the air couldn’t come down. Tears streamed from the son’s eyes, full of resentment.

“I will never return to this mansion again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I cannot live in the place where my mother died so miserably.”

With those words, the son walked out. The man watched his retreating back and immediately chased after him.

“Raphiel!”

Before opening the front door, the son looked at his father, who stood halfway up the stairs. Between them, an old maid, pale as a ghost, wiped away tears, pleading, “Young master, please.” The son shot her a cold look and then turned back to the man.

“Goodbye, Viscount Kloff Bendyke.”

“Raphiel!”

The son left. And never returned.

The man, having lost his eldest son, ran to his tombstone and cursed him repeatedly. He wept, cursing the one who tormented him even in death. Soon, his second son, who rushed to stop his madness as he brought a hammer to smash the tombstone, was severely injured by the madman’s swinging hammer.

That was his second fit of madness.

“…Why is Raphiel my son? And what’s with smashing a tombstone like a madman? What a bizarre dream…”

Thanks to the fierce dream, he woke up annoyed. He got out of bed, steadied his dizzy head, and rubbed his eyes with his palm. He stepped out of bed barefoot and pulled back the heavy blackout curtains on the nearest large window.

“What fantastically awful weather. Perfect.”

The gloomy sky, as if it would hail with a squall at any moment, rumbled distantly and stirred. Was it some kind of revelation? The dream was disgusting too. It was all because of that damned count. Today was the day he was supposed to go to the count’s estate. Could there be a more fitting start?

Kloff, shaking off the bizarre dream with annoyance, flung off his pajamas. After a reluctant breakfast, he dawdled for a long time before reluctantly getting into the carriage he had managed to call. As soon as he got in, fine hail began to pour down. The road quickly turned into a muddy mess. While he worried unnecessarily about the carriage wheels on the sinking road, the hail turned into a faint drizzle without any refreshing feel.

“Just like my life.”

He sighed and looked out the carriage window, where a mansion of immense grandeur stood under the gray sky.

He was greeted by an elderly butler, as haughty as his master. The butler, whom he had seen before, greeted him first with “Welcome, Lord Bendyke,” but his demeanor, to put it nicely, was perfectly polite, and to be more honest, indescribably cold.

I’m not here because I like this unlucky household, butler.

Kloff silently handed over his thin raincoat, slightly damp with rain, to the impeccable butler. The butler, holding it with his fingertips as if it were a dirty rag, passed it to the footman waiting beside him, then silently turned and led the way. He walked with his shoulders proudly squared and his head held stiffly, as if he had a steel brace on his neck. Truly, master and servant alike. Was there some special chemical mixed into the air of this mansion that stiffened one’s joints?

After passing through a corridor so long it was hard to imagine it was someone’s home, the butler led him to the study, which he had visited before. As he stepped through the open door, the count, who had been sitting on the sofa drinking tea, looked up and smiled.

“You’ve come earlier than I expected.”

“…You sent a carriage for me, and you say ‘earlier than expected’?”

Even before Kloff could greet him, showing his displeasure, Aeroc simply smiled and offered him a seat without much response.

“Tea?”

While Kloff sat down, Aeroc, without calling the butler, poured black tea into an extra cup from the pre-prepared tea set and stirred in a spoonful of sugar with a silver spoon. At first, Kloff thought he also had the somewhat rare preference of only sugar, no cream, but the teacup was pushed towards him. Come to think of it, the count already had tea with cream in front of him.

“How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“My tea preference. It’s not very common in the city.”

“…I think I saw you drink it before. As you said, it’s not a common preference, so I remembered it.”

Was it at a tea party before? Nobles, with their boundless meddling, liked to remember useless details. He supposed the count, at the pinnacle of nobility, was also like that. The tea was strong enough to leave a slightly bitter aftertaste, sharply awakening his still somewhat dull brain. It was perfectly to his taste.

“How is it?”

“Not bad.”

The count smiled contentedly and sipped his soft-colored milk tea. Looking at the pale tea, almost golden rather than black, he wondered if that’s why his skin was so white. Golden hair like milk tea, skin like milk. Lips with a subtle reddish hue, like the rose pattern etched on the teacup. And as for a deep fragrance, the count always wore a cool, expensive perfume.

Judging by his appearance and demeanor, he seemed to prefer being enveloped in a very expensive tea fragrance, yet he used perfume like a lighthearted alpha philanderer. Alpha perfume was only used when one wanted to conceal the scent of an omega they had slept with the night before.

Someone’s having nightmares, while someone else seems to have had a fantastic night.

Annoyance surged again. The teacup clattered, and the luxuriant eyelashes, which had been elegantly lowered, now rose, and blue eyes gazed at him. Again, he’s smiling again. Why does he keep smiling, anyway? Kloff placed his half-finished tea on the table and said in a slightly stiff voice.

“Ledgers. Investment contracts. Real estate documents. All evidentiary documents related to liquid assets held.”

“…What?”

“Bring them immediately. We have work to do.”

“Already? I haven’t even finished my tea.”

Aeroc, a little flustered, put down his teacup. Kloff was already standing up and moving towards the desk where he could lay out and read the documents. He pulled out a chair and hung his jacket over the backrest.

“I didn’t come here for a leisurely tea. I’m busy. I squeezed this time out forcibly.”

“Wasn’t today supposed to be entirely free? Viscount Derbyshire said you usually spend a day conversing with other contractors…”

“I have an appointment this afternoon. Don’t forget that you were the one who showed up suddenly.”

As Kloff drew a firm line, Aeroc conceded without much argument. He then rose from his seat and elegantly rang the bell beside him. As expected, or rather, far exceeding expectations, mountains of documents poured into the study through the butler who immediately appeared. It made him realize the long history of the family, their immense wealth, and their lax management. Kloff was appalled at the disorganized piles of documents.

“Damn it. You should have organized these beforehand.”

“I was told it’s better to show them as they are, without touching them.”

“That only applies to organized ledgers! Where are the receipts in this mess?”

When Kloff frowned and questioned him, the count, a little flustered, said something absurd.

“Do I need to collect receipts?”

“…”

Kloff looked at him silently, and the count looked away slightly before meeting his gaze and smiling. Fine. Smile. At least you won’t get cursed if you smile. No, does it make me want to curse more? I don’t know. Kloff sighed deeply, looking at the dusty ledger, and unbuttoned his cuffs, rolling up his shirt sleeves.

“Looks like I won’t be meeting Raphiel today.”

“Ah.”

He had only muttered to himself while rummaging through the documents and picking up what looked like a ledger, but the count suddenly looked at him with a serious, fidgety expression.

“My apologies. I completely failed to consider your circumstances. You may come another time. Or I can organize these documents myself and send them to you first.”

“It’s fine. I’m already here. And you’ve never done it before, so if you meddle, it’ll only get in the way.”

“I’m truly sorry. To take up your time to meet a loved one…”

The end of his sentence was a little strange, so Kloff frowned and stared at Aeroc. He seemed genuinely sorry, his smile tinged with a slight melancholy as he lowered his gaze.

“If you have time to worry about other people’s private lives, please put those folders on the desk.”

“Ah.”

Aeroc quickly looked at the documents Kloff was pointing to and hastily picked them up. In the meantime, Kloff sat down in the luxurious leather chair with a frown. He was slightly surprised by the comfort of the chair, which fit him as if it had been used for at least 20 years, but he showed no sign of it, keeping his facial muscles rigid as he opened the ledger.

As expected, it took a very long time. The third cup of tea had long since grown cold. Aeroc, who had been sitting on the sofa, observing him while flipping through the bookshelves he had pulled close, suddenly stood up and headed outside.

Was he bored of waiting and went to do something else? While I’m still working.

Even without that, his constant presence was distracting and didn’t help him concentrate. He even thought it was a good thing that he was finally out of the way. But a moment later, the study door opened again, and Aeroc entered carrying something on a tray. Kloff, still reviewing ledgers and documents and taking notes, glanced up to see him standing next to the desk with a small silver tray. It seemed he had brought snacks, like sandwiches and cookies.

“I would have liked to offer you a proper meal, but…”

“I’ll decline.”

“I thought so, which is why I prepared snacks.”

“Put it there.”

He pointed to the top of a folder with his hand without looking. Even after placing the tray, Aeroc lingered unnecessarily. The scent of perfume was very annoying. Kloff frowned and turned to look at the person pacing beside him with his hands behind his back.

“Ah, I apologize if I’m disturbing you.”

“Go sit over there. Read a book or leave.”

“I shall.”

At the docile reply, Kloff couldn’t hide his bewilderment and watched the person heading to his seat. Had that count eaten something strange? Why was he suddenly so obedient? Surely he wasn’t trying to curry favor. Was he sick? Then the tray caught his eye. There was a very appetizing ham sandwich and cookies studded with black dried fruit. Was he simply hungry? Nobles didn’t eat alone in front of others, after all.

“If you’re hungry, eat first. Don’t mind me.”

“No. That’s for you. I don’t eat things with raisins.”

“To be picky about food at your age. That would never happen in my house.”

When he mildly chided the count for his childish behavior, the count suddenly shot him a sharp look, but as their eyes met, he quickly turned away with an annoyed expression. Then, with a fake smile, he retorted, “Do you have time to concern yourself with other people’s private lives? And I am not a member of your household.”

Yes. That’s more like a count.

“Thank you very much for your concern. If you, who messed up the work like this, would shut up so as not to disturb me, I could finish faster.”

When Kloff replied with a brazen smile, the count glared at him again. They glared at each other, then quickly turned their heads away.

Only the nervous scratching of a pen and the fierce rustling of pages could be heard in the study.

“It’s a mess.”

It was late afternoon by the time he finally managed to organize the main ledgers and large investment items. Kloff’s professional conclusion, based on his expertise, was that single phrase. Aeroc, who was just sipping his tea, asked with a bewildered look, “How much?”

“If you continue spending at this rate, you’ll have to work a job due to sudden illness within a few years. Assuming you don’t end up in debt, of course.”

“Is it that bad?”

Seeing his complexion harden, looking a bit disgusted, he was indeed a noble. Even if it wasn’t Aeroc, most clients who had suffered significant losses due to failed investments reacted similarly when told such things. Some faint-hearted omega nobles even cried. For a noble, being employed somewhere to earn money was as shocking as prostitution for a commoner.