As soon as she arrived back at the Swangan residence, Byletta ran to the count’s office. The moment she’d heard that bona fide merchants were withdrawing, she’d thought something was suspicious, but as she read her uncle’s report on the carriage back home, her breath had caught in her throat.
The report contained details of the grain output of the count’s estate. The amount of taxes due—calculated from the size of the actual harvest—differed from what had been reported. In other words, someone was committing embezzlement.
The timing couldn’t have been more perfect, as Count Swangan had told her that the tax inspector who’d visited the estate would be stopping by their residence with a report this afternoon. Deciding to put her divorce petition aside for the moment, Byletta decided to join them. Perhaps I shouldn’t have left all the estate management duties to Count Swangan just because it’s his job as lord, she mused. But no—this situation was all down to the count’s negligence.
Suppressing the urge to interrogate her father-in-law, Byletta cautiously awaited the arrival of the government tax inspector. He arrived just as they finished eating lunch, like the count said he would.
“And now the people don’t have enough food to eat…,” he said in a sorrowful tone, his brow furrowed.
The way he sobbed and cast his eyes to his feet was enough to elicit pity.
They were all facing one another over a table sandwiched between a pair of settees. Byletta was lost for words at the vivid performance.
Count Swangan, however, had an indignant look on his face. “Didn’t we send you extra supplies?” he asked coldly. “Why were those not enough?”
“Well, we distributed those…but there were so many babies born this year that it wasn’t sufficient.”
Byletta, who was seated next to her father-in-law, interjected. “Are you telling us that even though we had such a disappointing harvest, we had a bumper year for babies?”
“Er, yes.”
“How many stillbirths and deaths have we had?”
“Oh, erm…let me see. Ah, here it is.”
Byletta took the documents that the tax inspector produced and combed through them, looking for the population number as well as the live birth, stillbirth, and death statistics for the region. After a quick scan, she couldn’t help but frown.
“It appears there was no particular deviation from the average,” she commented.
“Yes…that’s right.”
“So you’re telling me that, despite insufficient supplies, there was absolutely no change in the number of people who have died this year?”
The color of the tax inspector’s face began to turn. Sadness gave way to a different expression—he looked rather like he was about to vomit or pass out. It was only in that moment that the count seemed to finally catch on to the fact that something wasn’t adding up.
“Tell me what is going on.”
“My apologies—there seems to be an oversight in the paperwork. Perhaps a mistake was made somewhere in these calculations?”
“Don’t you try to pull the wool over my eyes!” the count roared, getting to his feet.
What happened next was a blur. Count Swangan made the tax inspector tell him everything. According to the inspector, he’d simply followed directions from the steward stationed at the family home.
In the end, the tax inspector was handed over to the military police, who were to investigate him for any other potential crimes. Still, when all was said and done, a region’s problems fell under the jurisdiction of its lord—they couldn’t expect the officers to provide them with any further information. All the police could do was lock the man up to prevent him from doing further harm.
Once Count Swangan and Byletta were finally alone again in the reception room, Byletta turned her gaze toward her enraged father-in-law.
“No problems with the estate, are there? All I see are problems!” he spat.
“This only happened because you take people at face value. You probably just skimmed the documents and sent the tax inspector on his merry way in the past. If you’d scrutinized the information properly, you would have seen that the annual grain balance didn’t add up. I think that what you need to do now is visit your estate in person and properly sort out whatever is going on. I always thought it odd that you only ever spent a few days there at a time. You’ve failed to ensure proper oversight.”
“Ugh, there’s no end to your impertinence… Spending more time inspecting my estate wouldn’t have changed a thing.”
Byletta swallowed her first impulse, which was to shout that he was wrong, and did her best to speak calmly. “It seems someone is making off with your grain, and it’s getting sent across the border instead…”
“Where did you hear that?”
“We merchants have our own information networks.”
Byletta quickly showed her father-in-law the report Samus had given her. It was met with a snort.
“Then you’ll be accompanying me.”
“I will?”
“Accounting for travel time, you’ll be gone for ten days. Start making arrangements at work to allow it. I suppose we’ll have to gather up some documentation, too, so let’s plan to leave in about a month.”
“That’s not fair. I’m expecting to unveil some new dresses soon… And I need to share this season’s latest trends!”
“Is that more important than the people of the estate?”
What kind of question is that?! Byletta thought indignantly. The count sounded like a new wife nagging her husband about whether his work was more important to him than she was. She’d never expected to hear such a thing from the mouth of Count Swangan, a man older than her own father. It wasn’t cute, and it didn’t make her more sympathetic to his cause. That said, given that her husband wasn’t present and her father-in-law was a tyrant, it didn’t seem she had much of a choice but to humor him.
With that, it was decided that Byletta would accompany Count Swangan to inspect his lands. But there was still yet another matter to attend to.
“Father, did you hear that an armistice has been agreed upon?”
“Yes, I did hear something about that. So it’s official. An invitation to attend a formal ceremony did arrive addressed to my son… I suppose that would be the victory party.”
“It seems that way. Therefore, I would like to send him the notice of my intention to divorce that we previously discussed.”
Byletta presented her divorce letter to her father-in-law. He glanced at its contents and snorted.