“Even though we’re married, I never even got a glimpse of my husband’s face before he headed out to war. Sometimes I find it hard to convince myself he’s actually real. How could I settle down? Especially when the family I married into gives me so much more freedom than Mother and Father did back home.”
“You might think you’re free, but Father bosses you around a lot. Just this morning at breakfast, he told you to make sure you came back home before it got too late! Does he have some work for you again today?”
“What’s this?”
As Milena had frowned and tattled on Byletta, Samus’s expression had changed as well.
“Oh, Milena, I keep telling you that’s okay! There’s nothing for you to worry about, Uncle Samus. He just consults with me sometimes on matters of the family estate. I read the tax reports, he asks about the latest market trends—it’s just chitchat. He’s also taken me out there from time to time, although not at all lately.”
“I see. I’m glad what I taught you all those years ago is coming in useful. You’re a sharp one, and adorable to boot. But…something feels strange about all this. I’ve heard a lot about Swangan’s estate lately, and none of it is good.”
Byletta had been ready to ignore her uncle’s usual platitudes, but she was caught off guard by his disquieting words at the end.
“Where did you hear that? We’ve only ever received positive reports on the management of the estate. I haven’t even heard anything particularly bad within our social circles.”
Compared to when Byletta had first joined the count’s household, the man had become much more earnest. Back then, he hadn’t even cared about the state of his lands and just left everything up to his staff. It’d been several years since he’d even set foot there. Apparently, he used to boast that since a government tax inspector was periodically dispatched to the lands, all he had to do was read their report. Once Byletta had found out about this, she’d grabbed the count by the scruff of his neck and dragged him all the way there herself. She still remembered that day fondly. As they’d ridden there, side by side in a horse-drawn carriage, all he’d done was complain. There were times he still moaned about it. Still, some might ask why Byletta had bothered to drag a lord all the way to his lands. She wasn’t his boss—or so she grumbled to herself.
This belief was belied by the written petitions that were delivered to House Swangan’s city residence on occasion, sent from the steward who was stationed out in the country. The communication between the two estates didn’t seem particularly strained, but the fact that the correspondence—which should have been going to the house’s lord—had been regularly getting addressed to Byletta should have rung some alarm bells. But even if upon reflection she should’ve had misgivings, she hadn’t heard a peep on the subject from the people she mixed with from her social stratum. Any gossip she did hear was very good. Nothing bad reached her ears.
“That’s because a certain someone is very good at hiding things. It’s so bad that the shrewder merchants are careful not to do a lot of trading there.”
“Oh my, that is concerning. I’d love to hear more on the topic, if you’d be willing to divulge.”
Byletta gazed up at her uncle through her eyelashes. He broke into a wide smile.
“Why, of course I am. But unfortunately, that conversation would take quite some time. That’s why I put everything into this report.”
Samus held out the envelope in his hand with a wink. Byletta thanked him and took it.
She would have to cross-examine the count when she returned home.
“There’s one more thing, but these are happier tidings. It seems that the neighboring countries have accepted counsel to surrender.”
“What does that mean, Mr. Eteau?” Milena asked in surprise.
“It means that an armistice has been agreed upon—effectively an end to the war. You’ll probably start hearing about it in the news soon. It also means your big brother will be coming home.”
“A-Arnald? Wh-what should we do, Letta?”
Byletta was always telling the Swangan household that when the war ended and Arnald was due home, she would divorce him. Her father-in-law was reluctant, but her new mother and sister both understood, probably because they knew how cold Arnald really was. They’d told her straight to her face that she wouldn’t be happy if she stayed with him and claimed that he probably wouldn’t show any interest in her at all anyway once he was back. Their support in the endeavor only made Byletta want to divorce him more.
Byletta was now twenty-four years old, but she still had so much that she wanted to do. Once the war concluded, the empire would flourish again. Demand would likely rise sky-high. She’d sell so much it would blow all her sales figures up till now out of the water.
The business head on Byletta’s shoulders was working so fast she was getting dizzy. There were still so many things that she wanted to sell, so many things that she wanted to purchase. She couldn’t let her disinterested husband get in the way of that.
“I heard that they’re going to be gradually allowing the soldiers at the southern front to come home, but it will most likely start from the bottom up. Your husband is a field officer, so he’s probably still stationed on the front lines to take care of any remaining business.”
“I’m going to send him a letter notifying him of my intention to divorce. I have to move quickly.”
“I’ll be sad when you leave, Letta, but I support you.”
“That means a lot to me, Milena. And I am grateful to you, too, Uncle, for all you’ve told me.”
“If it’s to officially free my niece, I’ll help you with whatever you need. If things go well, perhaps we could take a trip to the southwest to procure some new stock. I’ve found an extremely interesting crystal there I bet you’d like.”
“No need to be hasty, Uncle. I look forward to it, though. Now—I must see my father-in-law.”
Byletta flashed a smile, but the aura that emanated from her was different than before, full of even more drive than usual.