By Zephyria 
Unlike the first day, when he had used bad memories as an excuse to withdraw from the hunt, MacQuan handled the rest of the schedule with ease. He was in such peak condition that even the sound of the foxhounds seemed like music; no further explanation was needed.
On the evening of the final day of the competition, a lavish banquet—disguised as a house party—took place in Bruce Hall, the central hall of the Pellynton estate. The refined chamber music filling the hall, the high-quality liquor, and the exquisite food were more than enough to soothe the fatigue of several days of hunting.
Though guests from various factions had been invited, people naturally gravitated toward those who shared their views. The debates that had previously exchanged via pamphlets continued unabated outside the pages. Amidst this, MacQuan stole frequent glances at Aaron, who was dressed impeccably in evening tails. It was the first time he had seen his face in several days.
‘He certainly has a handsome face.’
Sipping a deep-flavored wine, MacQuan recalled the events of the past few days. At the gathering to finalize the last of the prey, MacQuan had secured a remarkably high rank, even considering his absence on the first day.
The noble ladies had to suppress their envy toward the fiancées who would receive gifts from the handsome young Member of Parliament. Of course, the person who drew the most attention was none other than the heir to the Grand Duchy of England, whose official spouse’s seat remained vacant.
‘Unfortunately.’
Despite the attention the women showered upon him, not a single lady claimed to have received a fox tail from Aaron Wizfeldon by the end of the competition, even though he had hunted the first fox on the first day.
‘He wouldn’t give them to you.’
MacQuan did not hide his amusement as he watched the women, who had been brimming with anticipation for days, succumb to disappointment. Aaron was a man who harbored feelings for another man of the same sex, despite already having an unofficial marriage arrangement. No comedy could be more ridiculous than this.
“It has been a long time since I’ve seen Earl Vispilt in a public setting since that incident.”
The man he was talking to tilted his glass. It was Sir Dverin Rosebery, the chairman of the election advisory committee. Clinking glasses lightly, MacQuan lowered his gaze.
“He hardly ever attended gatherings before, either.”
“That may be so, but I wonder if he has come to his senses now. Lord Cornwall cannot keep him tucked away in his arms forever.”
“Well… I suppose so.”
Sipping his drink, MacQuan watched the man who was the subject of every conversation. What a bored expression. He carried an arrogant aura, as if everyone under the heavens—save for the Royal Family—lay beneath his feet.
“I heard that marriage talks with the Duke of Newcastle’s house are being pursued.”
He recalled what the Duke of Devonshire had said before the hunt began. His grip on the glass tightened instinctively.
‘An engagement.’
The pale man did not glance at him, even by accident. A smirk escaped MacQuan’s lips. In fact, such behavior clearly indicated that Aaron was conscious of him.
‘How could someone with those feelings possibly engage in an engagement?’
He had been foolish to wonder if there was a better piece of leverage than opium addiction. Homosexuality. It was a weakness incomparable to anything else, a matter of social condemnation on a completely different level than opium. And the object of that affection was none other than himself.
He wondered exactly when it had started, but knowing that emotions are inherently irrational, MacQuan did not dwell on it. The only important fact was that this man now stood as the emotionally weaker party in their relationship.
The way Aaron had been unable to even properly deny it when asked if he held feelings for him was almost touching in its aristocratic innocence. A surge of joy rose in MacQuan’s heart at the thought that he had acquired such a magnificent attacking card.
“Sir Lester, is there something good on your mind?”
“My apologies. I was momentarily lost in thought.”
“I wondered if you were feeling down because you didn’t catch many foxes today.”
“If I had caught any more, all the foxes owned by Lord Cornwall would have disappeared.”
“A typical remark from a Cornwall hunter, indeed.”
At Sir Rosebery’s jovial joke, another Whig MP standing beside them chimed in.
“I heard the troop deployment bill failed at the final reading in the House of Commons.”
Recalling the events of a few days ago, MacQuan set his glass down on the table.
“Considering it couldn’t even pass the first reading initially, it is a remarkable change. It passed the standing committee and the plenary session four times last year alone. I am looking further into the future rather than at immediate changes.”
“Unlike the Commons, the Lords are strongly conservative, which concerns me.”
MacQuan responded immediately with an ambitious smile.
“They will have to change gradually, will they not?”
He would propose as many related bills as possible and form a power bloc with like-minded individuals. Even if the bills didn’t pass within this term, he could plan for the future by continuously stimulating public opinion. The current Prime Minister, the Duke of Devonshire, was on his side, and the relationship between the Prime Minister and the Queen was intimate. That was why he remained unshaken despite the repeated rejection of the war bills in the Commons.
Now, if he could just obtain three things—justification, momentum, and the purge of Cornwall—the passage of the military intervention bill would only be a matter of time.
“It would be better if they could think more flexibly. Instead of unconditionally rejecting opium trafficking, shouldn’t they acknowledge that the revenue from it constitutes a significant portion of the national treasury?”
“They only complain without offering alternatives. That is how the Tories have behaved for hundreds of years. Bound by custom and tradition, they cannot accept new policies and changes. Is there anyone who doesn’t know that the surplus from trade with Daecheong is offsetting the maritime trade deficit of all England?”
“As you know, Lord Cornwall’s disposition is too rigid to acknowledge that fact.”
Minister Rosebery clicked his tongue.
“Come to think of it, Earl Vispilt’s disposition is not much different. I expected some flexibility since he is of the younger generation, but as expected, he is a son who takes after his father exactly!”
Suppressing another smile, MacQuan gestured toward the table server with a solemn face. Fresh champagne filled the glasses. He raised his glass high, the liquid sloshing.
Why fear past failures? Now that the most effective card of all had come to him. The method to strangle Cornwall, who had most fiercely blocked them, was in his hands.
“What does it matter? Our Whigs have already firmly seized the advantage. I believe the world Sir Smith and Sir Ricardo dream of is not far off.”
A toast followed, celebrating the coming victory. Amidst the waves of greed and desire, MacQuan was willing to endure the filth and cruelty of the mire he had stepped into.
After the official event concluded and everyone had departed, it was almost a foregone conclusion that the promising young MP would request a secret audience with Earl Vispilt of the House of Cornwall.
✧ ✧ ✧
The reception room he was guided to was excessively wide and desolate. The antique furniture, likely sourced from various parts of France or Italy, was ornate, but it was difficult to block out the chilling atmosphere. Tension clung to his footsteps as he entered the space where splendor and bleakness coexisted.
As soon as the butler who guided him left, a sharp rebuttal flew from the opposite side.
“Is there really a need to waste time?”
The man sitting in the chair didn’t even make eye contact, nor did he make the slightest effort to hide his displeasure. MacQuan already knew well what foul emotions lingered beneath that brazen face. Even before they began, he was the winner of the deal to come. In the awkward atmosphere, the fireplace burned fiercely.
“There is no need to be so prickly, Earl.”
“If you’re going to spout nonsense again, I won’t listen. I couldn’t say it properly because you kept talking blindly, but… I’m tired.”
Taking a short breath, Aaron opened a small box on the folding table with a frustrated expression. At that sight, MacQuan’s eyes, which had been feigning composure, momentarily sharpened. In the heavy silence, MacQuan watched closely to see what the other was taking out. It was Maryland-grown tobacco. Only after confirming it wasn’t opium did he unconsciously let out a sigh of relief. Of course, neither of them noticed that reaction.
The movement of lighting the cigarette was rough. Aaron bit the filter and took a long drag. His straight fingers trembled for a moment.
“Whatever you are thinking, it is not the feeling you imagine. The misunderstanding is simply absurd.”
Hazy smoke veiled his expression. The surroundings became so blurred that it would have been believable as truth if not for the stiff movement of his hands. Confident that he had seized the advantage, MacQuan’s voice grew stronger.
“I am not a fool, Earl. Do I look like someone who would take a dangerous gamble based on mere suspicion?”
At the overly relaxed tone, Aaron frowned.
“You really are a nuisance…”
“Lord Wizfeldon, I am not trying to put you in a difficult position. I simply wish to know your true feelings.”
“And if I do.”
At the brief response, MacQuan was momentarily speechless.
“What can you actually do? Did you think you’d catch a weakness?”
Aaron loosely held the pipe between his fingers and rubbed his heavily distorted eyes. Along with a short curse, another long stream of smoke flowed out.
“It is not that. I simply need confirmation.”
“Confirmation?”
“Confirmation to convey my own feelings to you.”
It was a brazen confession. Aaron looked at him with a stunned expression, and only after a long while did he understand the meaning and begin to chuckle. He trembled repeatedly like someone intoxicated, and his laughter was frivolous.
“I know you look down on me, but…”
Crash—
With a violent noise, the folding table collapsed. Simultaneously, Aaron pulled something out of the coat draped over the sofa. Before MacQuan could identify it, Aaron closed the distance to the arrogant intruder in a single stride.
“Ugh!”
“There’s a limit to how much you can threaten someone.”
Placing one foot on the armrest of the chair, Aaron grabbed the arrogant opium merchant by the collar and hauled him up. It happened in an instant.
The question of what he was doing failed to emerge, blocked by the cold muzzle of a gun pressed against his forehead.
“I wish to live quietly, Baronet.”
Click. The chilling sound of a round being chambered echoed through the room.
‘This crazy human…’
MacQuan swallowed hard and raised both hands.
“Do you not understand what I am saying?”
The muzzle pressing fiercely against his forehead was deeply insulting, but his priority was to soothe this madman so he would calm down.
“Earl, please listen to me first.”
“Since you cannot understand words to this extent, it would be better for you to be reborn.”
Every single word was filled with rage. The eyes glaring at him were vivid with murderous intent. The atmosphere was so sharp that it was hard to believe he was the same person who had looked at him blankly among the old trees a few days ago.
Only then did MacQuan realize that his actions had provoked the other too much. This man was not gentle by nature. Even if he held a weakness, he should not have shaken him in this manner. It was a clear mistake.
“…Please calm down.”
Despite the weakened plea, the grip on his collar tightened further.
“Ugh.”
Feeling the shirt collar dig into his neck, MacQuan let out an involuntary groan. He wondered if Aaron had taken opium, but the overly clear and vivid eyes told him that the man was perfectly sane.
“Get out of my mansion this instant.”
The voice commanding him was extremely irritable and fierce. Sweat ran down his spine at the coldness of the gun pressed to the center of his forehead.
“…….”
MacQuan struggled to catch his breath and met Aaron’s eyes. Whether the stillness he had shown since their reunion was a lie, the man before him now was like a wild beast. The flames burning past the ignition point were pure, unadulterated rage.
Yes. This was the kind of person he was.
“…Lord Wizfeldon.”
“I will not say it twice. My patience is not very good. Even the Saint Louis physician could not properly treat my mania. I usually endure well, but sometimes I lose control.”
The corners of his fierce eyes tilted instantly. It resembled a smile, but it was a chilling aura that could never be called smiling.
“If you don’t believe me, try moving that mouth once more. I can no longer be responsible for the Baronet’s well-being. Since you’ve become an MP, it might be a bit of a blow, but even so, you can just live in seclusion pretending to reflect for a while and that’ll be the end of it. The magistrates are very generous to nobles. Quite unfair, isn’t it?”
He was not in a good state. Moreover, the man was an opium addict. A severe addict who had been locked away in the infamous Saint Louis closed ward for three years.
Faced with such a razor-edged reaction, MacQuan revised his plan to approach from a different angle. No matter how much leverage he held, there was a line that must not be crossed in this situation.
“Earl.”
MacQuan swallowed slowly.
“Earl, Lord Wizfeldon.”
An extremely low voice flowed from between his lips. At the gentle tone, clearly intended to calm the other, the movement of the gun crushing his forehead paused for a moment.
“Please forgive my insolence.”
MacQuan raised his arm and wrapped his hand around Aaron’s hand, which was strangling his neck.
“You’d better not try any clumsy tricks. I’m already extremely displeased even without this.”
At the sudden action, the gun pressed into his forehead pushed harder. Seeing the murderous blue eyes waver anxiously, MacQuan, sensing success, gripped the back of Aaron’s hand more softly.
“I want to talk with you.”
“I have nothing to say.”
“Earl, please give me just a little time.”
“I want you to vanish from this place. Now, from my sight.”
“Earl, please…”
Aaron tilted his head and whispered, still unstable.
“Why on earth are you being so persistent?”
Suddenly, MacQuan thought the man before him was like an extremely sensitive boy. The heir to Cornwall was an adult male with a perfect appearance to any observer, yet there was a precariousness that could crumble in an instant. It was an absurd, nonsensical feeling. MacQuan was equally confused by these unfamiliar and uncomfortable emotions.
“Earl.”
Unconsciously, MacQuan desperately gripped Aaron’s hand and pulled it down.
“There is something I want to say. Please, just calm down a little.”
The veins on the back of the hand, which had been gripping so hard the shirt was wrinkled, bulged sharply. Without time to catch his blocked breath, MacQuan held the cold hand and began to babble anything.
“I was wrong.”
At the apology that sounded like a plea, Aaron’s eyes widened for a moment. It was a mix of bewilderment and surprise. He soon began to scan MacQuan’s face rapidly, as if searching for something.
“I was completely wrong, so please just calm down.”
“It was all my fault.”
“Lord Wizfeldon?”
At the sound of his name being called again, Aaron’s eyebrows furrowed sharply, and he slowly withdrew the gun from MacQuan’s forehead.
A suffocating silence flowed, and the ash-colored air settled heavily, lingering around their feet.
“…Leave.”
“Earl.”
“Now.”
Returning to his chair, Aaron buried his face in both hands and muttered in a pained tone. His deeply hunched back looked exhausted. Since that appearance was not the slightest bit different from the last time MacQuan had seen him three years ago, MacQuan unconsciously stood up and approached where Aaron sat.
“Stop bothering me.”
The lowered head was rounded. MacQuan’s gaze kept drifting to the bright blonde hair that covered it richly, reminiscent of an autumn barley field. The man looked strangely soft and fragile, and he felt an absurd impulse to stroke him. It was a mad thought.
After looking down in silence for a while, MacQuan slowly knelt on one knee. He wanted to meet his eyes, but because they were covered by hands, the other’s features were completely hidden.
“Lord Wizfeldon.”
Though it made no sense, he felt an aching longing. He was hungry and thirsty.
“Lord Wizfeldon.”
Even though no answer returned, MacQuan did not give up and called him again. He listened quietly to the faint sound of breathing that felt distant. Following the exhaled breath, a pleasant scent drifted from the other. It was so subtle and lovely that it was disconcerting for a scent coming from an opium addict. Fearing that he might actually embrace this pitiful man if he stayed any longer, MacQuan quickly continued the conversation.
“Lord Wizfeldon.”
Feeling spiteful that he still hid his face and refused to show it, MacQuan, with a mischievous expression, carefully grasped both of Aaron’s straight wrists. They had looked clean from a distance, but up close, old scars were visible here and there on the hands covering his face. It was unlikely they came from bayonet training, but his curiosity did not last long.
“Please show me your face.”
Contrary to his expectation that the other would stubbornly resist his irreverent behavior, the hands fell away easily. And at a very slow pace, the face hidden within was revealed. They were so close that MacQuan wondered if he had ever seen the man in such detail before.
“…….”
For a moment, MacQuan quietly held his breath. Aaron Wizfeldon’s face, composed of slender lines, looked almost noble for a split second. Yes, enough to bewitch one’s heart for a fleeting moment.
“Earl.”
The voice was so unfamiliar that it was hard to believe it was his own. Feeling a sense of discomfort, MacQuan swallowed several times. Following the movement, his Adam’s apple bobbed prominently.
“I admit to everything—attacking you and insulting you with harsh words all this time.”
The eyes that met his were so transparent that he felt the illusion that they might swallow all the sins of the lies he would spin from now on.
This is maddening.
Steadying his wavering heart, MacQuan donned the mask for his all-out performance. The corners of his mouth trembled, acting out the sorrow of a confessor. To get what he wanted, he was more than willing to deceive his opponent and convey false feelings.
“But I didn’t mean it.”
“…….”
“I lost my heart to you the moment I first saw you. I wanted to attract your attention. I reacted more spitefully on purpose, and even knowing it was the worst way, I wanted to hurt you. Because that was the only way you would look at me even once more.”
The expressionless face tilted slightly to the side. It was a wait to hear what would follow. MacQuan realized his acting had succeeded. While struggling to hide a triumphant smile, he displayed even more desperation.
“At some point, I realized I was always looking at you. The more I saw you with my eyes, the more my heart grew for you.”
As the false confession continued, the clear, ocean-colored eyes wavered visibly. Watching the shifting expression, MacQuan felt certain once again.
Ah, how should I use this?
This desperate heart.
It was a definitive victory.
“I apologize for pushing you in the forest a few days ago without even listening to you. If I may make an excuse, it was because I truly couldn’t believe that you had kissed me.”
MacQuan gently stroked the pale wrist he held firmly. The ferocious beast that so often threw tantrums was now frozen in his hand, almost pitifully.
“That is why I acted that way.”
A gaze full of doubt slowly scanned MacQuan’s face before reaching the fingertips that continued to caress the back of his hand and wrist. It was a strange feeling, like the act of taming a wild animal. Hiding the satisfaction spreading through his chest, MacQuan spoke nonchalantly. The title he used to address the man shifted from moment to moment.
“I feel the same, Sir Wizfeldon.”
Even after the final words, an answer did not easily return. Only after a long silence, deep enough to swallow the night, did a completely dry, raspy voice drift out.
“……I don’t know what to say.”
“…….”
“Does the Baronet truly believe I would fall for such words?”
“Earl.”
“I am the one who wants to show you a mirror, not the other way around.”
“I shall gladly look into that mirror.”
At the confident reply, Aaron’s expression slowly distorted. MacQuan’s heart raced violently, sensing success. Though he was denying it with every word, this novice, who didn’t know how to hide his inner thoughts, clearly wanted to be deceived by him, no matter the words used.
‘Foolish man.’
Waves crashed over a rough sea. Exhilaration surged through his veins. He felt the illusion that his cheeks and ears were growing hot. One more step, and he could enter the boundaries of this man. He could tear down those sturdy walls and seize even the fragile heart hidden deep within. Without time to consider the nature of the desire rising inside him, MacQuan whispered more desperately than anyone.
“I know that you do not trust me, Earl.”
“…….”
“Still, please believe me. I, too, have held you in my heart. It happened so long ago that I couldn’t bring myself to say it.”
His mind, operating on reason, presented the most excellent answer. MacQuan gladly accepted that solution.
“I intended to hide it for the rest of my life. I had no intention of revealing it. But didn’t you kiss me first? In light of that, it is impossible to keep my feelings hidden.”
The captured hand trembled slightly. Noticing that the other was extremely tense, MacQuan gathered Aaron’s hand and leaned his forehead against it, rubbing it gently. The skin was very cold, perhaps because his body temperature was low, but even that suited him. Please believe me. A desperate yet calm plea echoed softly.
It took a long time for a response to follow the poignant confession.
“The engagement……”
At the cracked hesitation, MacQuan looked Aaron straight in the eyes again. Eyes full of chaos were reflecting only him.
“You are engaged to the daughter of the Duke of Devonshire. And yet you tell such lies; it is truly absurd.”
The feeling that the end of the sentence was trembling surely wasn’t just an illusion. Because the reaction was going exactly as expected, MacQuan struggled to swallow his laughter and frowned, pretending to be distressed. His mind was calculating possibilities with startling speed.
“It has been four years, Earl.”
“…….”
“The engagement period alone has been four years. Do you not understand what that means?”
He tightened his grip on the hand. The bloodless hand flinched in the direction MacQuan applied pressure. The guilt of exploiting the situation of a sickly fiancée did not last long. In any case, the marriage was uncertain, and under the thorough protection of the Duke of Devonshire, the circumstances regarding Elisha Lenzdoor would not leak out. Every action and lie he committed was, in the long run, for her sake as well.
“I only hid it because I remained in a cooperative relationship with the Duke of Devonshire, but in reality, Lady Elisha and I are practically broken up.”
At the unexpected words, the blue eyes wavered greatly. The firmly closed lips moved again.
“I am simply waiting for the right timing.”
“You are mistaken if you think I would believe such a lie.”
“You mentioned that you had placed a spy on me.”
A burning silence scorched his throat black. MacQuan lowered his head again, pressing his forehead against the back of Aaron’s cool hand. No matter how brilliant the acting, he feared that if he looked into those eyes for too long, he might confess all his lies unconsciously; this was a precautionary measure.
“You are welcome to verify it as much as you like.”
“…….”
“No matter who you ask, the result will be the same.”
Because his head was bowed, he couldn’t see the other’s reaction, but MacQuan instinctively felt that his words would have a powerful effect. Trying to hide and conceal invites suspicion, but a brazen and confident response instead instills trust in the opponent. It was one of the interpersonal skills he had used in the business world for a long time. A gloomy and cruel desire peeled away its shell.
“……I don’t believe you.”
It was an answer filled with genuine pain.
The demon buried deep inside chuckled.
Ah.
This foolish man truly held him in his heart.
“Earl.”
He loves me.
“I have laid bare my entire private life to you, someone who stands at the opposite end of the political spectrum. If you were to use my confession as a pretext to drag me to court, I would undoubtedly be sentenced for craving an irreverent relationship. And yet, what is it that you cannot believe?”
Desperately, hoping his heart would reach just a bit further, MacQuan layered in more deception. To the final question, instead of answering, Aaron pulled his hand away and looked away.
“I am sincere. I do not want to miss the miracle that has come to me.”
“…….”
“Please believe me.”
Aaron Wizfeldon’s violently wavering eyes were, paradoxically, telling him everything.
The heir to that great ducal house truly held him in his heart.
He loved him.
Every verbal and non-verbal reaction pointed to a single conclusion. A smile born of overwhelming emotion bloomed. Of course, MacQuan regarded that feeling as the joy of celebrating a coming victory.
The door opened, and the old butler entered the reception room.
“Shall I prepare some warm stew?”
Butler Bernard asked in a tone full of worry. His emotionless gaze remained fixed on the window.
“I don’t need any.”
“You hardly ate anything during the banquet. The Duke is also very worried.”
“My stomach isn’t feeling well.”
A cold path was created along the fingertips touching the window. As the latch was released, a chilling wind entered through the slightly open gap.
“And my father?”
“There are still some companions remaining, so he is having light refreshments in the drawing room, but it should be over soon.”
The lamps of the four-wheeled carriage waiting at the entrance of the mansion were lit. Soon after, a man with a familiar silhouette stepped out of the main gate and boarded the carriage. While the destination was being stated, the carriage paused briefly and then began to move slowly with the sound of a whip.
“How about some tea? Since you must sleep soon, it would be best not to drink coffee.”
At the persistence of the suggestion, Aaron gave a small smirk and returned to the big table.
“Rather than that, could you bring me some painkillers if you have any?”
“Is your headache severe?”
“A little.”
“Earl, Dr. Boswell said to reduce the amount of painkillers as much as possible due to the risk of tolerance. He was very concerned after the last consultation.”
“It’s just because it’s difficult.”
Aaron sat lightly on the ivory top of the table and laughed dryly. Seeing the gesture of opening the wooden box containing Leaf-Cut Tobacco, Bernard’s expression clouded further with worry.
The heir of Cornwall no longer smoked opium, but instead, the frequency of using painkillers and smoking cigars was twice as high compared to the past. Knowing it was the last effort of the young master to keep his sanity, Bernard could no longer stop him. The old butler watched silently for a while longer before answering.
“I shall prepare them.”
With the sound of the door closing, a gloomy silence descended. With languid movements, Aaron repeatedly inhaled deeply from the Leaf-Cut Tobacco and exhaled.
“Please believe me.”
The eyes that looked directly at him were so truthful that it was hard to call them a lie. It was the gaze of one who deceives himself in order to deceive another.
Yes.
In that moment, he could not deny that a desperate wind had pierced through his torn heart.
“I hope you give me the chance to give you my whole heart.”
Eyes resembling Sir Lamdiff shone with gravity. The vivid desire contained within them was sorrowful and sincere, as if it were not a lie.
“I will send a carriage to the mansion on Saturday night.”
“…….”
“I believe you will come to me.”
A cold wind brushed his cheek. It was a hollow chill.
The dog was dead, and the hut had burned down.
Aaron did not know, even now, years later, what that emotion shared for a fleeting moment on a summer day had been. Nothing remained but a formless pain.
✧ ✧ ✧
The atmosphere at Rodinton’s Nottinghamshire headquarters was more ominous than usual. This was because the representative of the Duke of Cornwall’s family, the company’s largest shareholder, had made a surprise visit. The representative’s face, while reviewing the finances and income/expenditure status, grew more distorted by the minute. It was a rage that had persisted throughout the journey from London to Nottinghamshire.
“They’ve lost their minds. Either they’ve all gone mad collectively, or—”
The hand throwing the thick bundle of documents was rough. In the taut air, the executives of Rodinton were busy glancing at one another.
“A trashy company like this should be sold immediately.”
Gasps were heard here and there at the crude expression. Every time he inhaled and exhaled from his pipe, a thick white smoke gathered and covered the surroundings.
“Is it normal for a company to have no profit for nearly half a year, with only laborers’ wages going out? Why doesn’t anyone say something?”
At the prompting, one of the executives cautiously spoke up.
“Currently, the domestic cotton textile market is practically completely saturated. Previously, we were in charge of supplying clothing needed for the war, so a certain amount of domestic volume was secured, but… as you know, these days people prefer goods from India or Daecheong, and those two countries also prefer their own products… Of course, we are forcing the sale of our products in India, but…”
There was no confidence in the stuttering tone.
“Calvin.”
Sucking on the filter until his cheeks grew hollow, Aaron crossed his long legs. His cheeks, which had grown thinner over the past few days, created a gloomy shadow.
“At this point, it’s either bankruptcy or a sale. Isn’t it one of the two?”
“The Duke is still opposed to it. He wishes to put effort into the revival of Rodinton if possible.”
“He’ll probably be ready to sell off the local estates soon.”
Letting out a nasty laugh, Aaron crushed the half-remaining Leaf-Cut Tobacco. The hand stroking the armrest was full of irritation.
“The Bay England Bank has decided that loans for the Rodinton case are difficult, so we have applied for an additional loan using the Howarth estate in Yorkshire as collateral.”
“Since it’s on the verge of collapse anyway, is there any reason to maintain Rodinton? No matter how remote the estate is, just how much more does he want to curry favor with the Royal Family? The Duke must have gone senile.”
At the utterly irreverent words, sounds of shock erupted from all sides. Of course, not a single one of them had the courage to voice their thoughts.
“A company like this must be eliminated. No matter how much is invested, there is nothing to recover.”
Just as he was throwing the documents while grinding his teeth, the general manager of the cotton factory rushed forward to intervene.
“Earl. The meaning and symbolic value that Rodinton holds for the people of England are considerable. The history that Rodinton has walked…”
“History?”
“……I am sorry.”
The upward glance was very rough and fierce.
“If you love Rodinton and have pride in it, then you acquire this trashy company. Who knows? Perhaps Her Majesty the Queen will grant you something in gratitude.”
“T-that sort of talk is…”
“Or why not try a tea business altogether? If we request saplings and technical support from Daecheong and determine whether harvesting is possible in the home country or India, it might be worth aiming for a turnaround. Wouldn’t that be better than struggling while clinging to a dying cotton business? I don’t know which country you intend to sell cotton to, which has no price competitiveness, let alone labor costs relative to investment.”
At the pouring sarcasm and fierce reprimand, the factory manager fell silent again. Scanning those who couldn’t utter a word, Aaron smirked and walked toward the window.
“…….”
The open scenery outside the window entered his field of vision. He stood straight and continued.
“It’s a mess. Even to me, who is not an expert, it’s so lax that it would look ridiculous if a government official came.”
“I have nothing to say.”
“I don’t know what in the world can be solved with just an apology. If you have no intention of disposing of it even by breaking Rodinton into pieces, then liquidating the existing cotton business among the main products produced and handled is also a method.”
“Earl, I ask you to reconsider those words.”
“Calvin.”
After breathing in the outside air for a moment, Aaron flicked his chin diagonally toward Calvin. It was an order to remove the useless people from the office. Calvin immediately stepped in front of the Rodinton executives and silently carried out the instruction.
“I will convene a general meeting soon. Let’s leave it at this for today.”
At the sudden declaration of adjournment, a few stood up in protest.
“Sir Wizfeldon, Rodinton has staked its life on the cotton business for decades. Closing the existing business is not easy, and the scale of the current factories and laborers is also…”
“If you don’t leave now, there will be no talk of business transition. Even if the Duke of Cornwall opposes it, I will use my title to process Rodinton’s bankruptcy.”
“T-that sort of talk is…”
“Leave.”
At the tone devoid of a shred of emotion, even the weak protests faded. They, too, knew that the company, unable to keep up with the changes of the times, was sinking rapidly. They were simply ignoring it. After a brief murmur, the meeting concluded quickly without any particular friction.
As the dissatisfied crowd left the office one by one, silence soon followed.
“We cannot undergo a tax audit with these financial conditions.”
A cold notification was delivered.
Due to capital erosion that had continued for several years before the acquisition, Rodinton was in a situation where it was difficult to pay employees’ salaries, let alone taxes, but the Duke of Cornwall did not want these internal financial conditions of Rodinton to be known to the public.
“The standing committee plans to create a special investigation team this year to conduct a full investigation of the finances of specific companies. Rodinton is not within the safe range forever. The Duke must have been worried, which is why he sent me, but the state of the company is more pathetic than I thought, to the point where I don’t even feel the need to give you advice.”
The gesture of tapping the window frame was elegant, but the air lingering around was sharp and dry.
“The members of Parliament who pushed for the standing committee and most of the officials who will compose it are Whigs. They are not the type to show any mercy, so it would be best to prepare for the worst-case scenario. I believe that if you continue to be stubborn and leave things as they are, you will only bring about your own destruction. Tell me your opinion.”
“I agree with you, brother.”
“Stop giving me parrot-like answers and try using your head for once. After all, if a disaster strikes, you will be the first one to take the fall.”
At those cold words, Calvin’s docile face darkened. He, too, was well aware of the weight of the responsibility he would have to bear.
“…….”
“Ha, looking at that stupid expression of yours makes me speechless.”
It was a complete failure; the consumption of cotton fabrics could not keep pace with production. The gaps were naturally being filled by liquidating the private assets of the Duke of Cornwall’s house, but the side effects of doing so were equally severe.
Since proper transactions were difficult from the start and there were no sources for the funds to emerge from, it was impossible to maintain accurate account books. Inevitably, they were forced to create double-entry books to fabricate profits. No matter how foolish an official might be, the books were so crude that any suspicious flow of funds would be easily detected.
“If you want to continue the cotton business, you must either adjust production, reduce the workforce, or, if you can’t do that, open new sales channels. Are you just manipulating books while eating away at your own flesh? How long do you think this will work? The time we can stall using the Cornwall name is, at most, a year or two. Do not think that private fortunes last forever.”
Calvin acknowledged the firm words with silence.
The problems identified on-site were too numerous and severe to list. If they continued to try and hide things this way, they risked being accused of irregular transactions and tax evasion. It was a miracle that this issue had not been exposed and that the Whigs and Devonshire’s group had not raised concerns until now.
“You should instead think of channels to develop new sales. How long do you intend to be stubborn and refuse conventional trade? Even to my non-expert eyes, this looks like garbage. It is truly astonishing that this has been operated so anachronistically and extravagantly for decades.”
Eyes lost in thought narrowed slightly. As he applied more pressure to the hand touching the window, the glass pane opened without much difficulty. Despite the clear breeze announcing the arrival of spring, the irritation on his handsome face did not fade.
“I agree with you, brother, but I worry that Father might not approve.”
Aaron snorted and pulled back the remaining curtain.
“He is a man for whom his own prestige and the family honor are most important. If he feels that Rodinton is damaging the family’s prestige, he will first shift all the responsibility onto you.”
“…….”
“And I will be next.”
With a cold smile, Aaron glanced at the pile of documents. The precariously stacked papers resembled the decay of a noble castle built over hundreds of years.
“We need to assemble a legal team to prepare for the tax audit. I hear most of the lawyers at the firm run by Russell Segrave are former judicial officers and Supreme Court justices. Arrange a meeting.”
“Understood.”
“As quickly as possible, Father must admit that the acquisition of Rodinton was a complete failure. That is what you truly need to do, rather than clinging to these pathetic ledgers.”
“……Yes.”
Thump, thump.
At that moment, a sound that shouldn’t have existed echoed in his head. It was an auditory hallucination. The headache that had plagued him along with insomnia for several days approached again, as if breathing. Returning to his seat, Aaron relaxed his body and leaned his head back. A stiffness rushed down from the crown of his head to his spine. It was a terrible sensation.
“Are you unwell? Your complexion doesn’t look good.”
“Calvin.”
“Yes.”
The voice that flowed out sounded strange, as if it belonged to someone else. Rubbing his stiff eyelids, Aaron delivered his request.
“Get me a train ticket to Northampton. For sometime next month.”
“……!”
Calvin, who had been preparing an answer, looked up in shock. It was a place that no one had dared to mention easily since that incident years ago.
“Brother, that place is—”
“I need to stop by Wawburn.”
“Brother!”
“I will not listen to you. Even if you make a fuss, one person is enough to block all my intentions.”
“……I understand.”
Ignoring the uneasy atmosphere, Aaron stood up again and walked toward the desk. There was no warmth in the expressions that flickered across his face.
“Assemble the bond legal team as quickly as possible.”
Stating that he would take no further questions, Aaron perched himself diagonally on the edge of the desk. He thought about something for a moment, then put on his thin-rimmed glasses and focused on the documents again. Before long, the sound of the pen nib moving across the paper filled the room.
✧ ✧ ✧
London’s gray sky exuded a particularly humid and gloomy energy. The time when the sun was visible through the dark clouds was very short. By the time the carriage arrived at the office, everything except the gas lamps along the road had grown dark.
It had been a very long time since MacQuan had visited Klaus Diugen’s London office. The primary reason he couldn’t visit easily was the persistent allegations of collusion with Klaus that had followed him since entering the House of Commons. Deciding that they could not be in a relationship that harmed one another, he had resigned from his representative position, but it took a considerable amount of time for the negative public opinion to subside. Strictly speaking, it was still an ongoing issue.
“Isn’t it almost a year since you last came to the office in person?”
“To think a year has already passed.”
Handing over coffee he had brewed himself, Robert also took a seat opposite him.
“You seem to be in a good mood today.”
MacQuan glanced at him while savoring the aroma of the coffee.
“Me?”
“Because you keep smiling. Is there some good news?”
At the unexpected question, MacQuan rubbed the corner of his mouth with an awkward expression.
“It’s nothing like that. It’s just that a way to solve a problem that had been giving me a headache unexpectedly came up.”
“May I ask what it is?”
His throat felt dry as he swallowed. While he had been pondering the bill on the way here, he had also been thinking about a completely different matter. In truth, the latter held twice the weight, and he had to admit that his anticipation for the coming weekend was overwhelming. Recalling a certain cold face from his memory, his chest tightened unpleasantly.
“Something good is expected soon. I’ll tell you once it’s confirmed.”
MacQuan tried his best to ignore the uncomfortable emotion that suddenly surfaced. If he relaxed just a little, he might have burst into a loud laugh like a madman right there.
“If things go well for you, I’ll be happy as well.”
At the vague answer, Robert skillfully shifted the topic to another person without digging further.
“It would have been nice if Aljef had come too.”
“He’s probably working hard in Liverpool while badmouthing me.”
After brief pleasantries, Robert immediately brought up the business at hand.
“I’m sorry to bring up bad news when the atmosphere should be pleasant.”
Seeing the dark shadow cast over the gentle face, MacQuan set down his cup.
“Since the Imperial Commissioner appointed by the Daecheong Imperial Court arrived in Guangzhou last year, the crackdown situation has been very poor. The Cohong merchants are still hesitating to trade. The surveillance of that Imperial Commissioner is incredibly fierce. He is a very rigid and honest man, so bribes don’t work.”
“Hmm.”
MacQuan pondered for a while before continuing the conversation.
“I am aware that a proclamation was issued.”
“I heard that any ship heading to Guangzhou found with opium will be intercepted, and those involved will be banned from all commercial activities. Currently, transporting goods within Guangzhou is nearly impossible.”
Eyes that had completely lost their smile turned toward the window across from him.
“That’s the worst.”
“The attitude of Guangzhou officials and residents toward foreign merchants is also very aggressive. The atmosphere is so tense that an actual accident could happen at any moment. Though it’s inevitable since their lives are on the line.”
MacQuan rubbed his stiff eyelids and cursed under his breath.
“We’re in a situation where we can’t ask them to be more patient.”
“To be honest, yes. It’s not a matter of patience; it’s a matter of risking their lives. Right now, they are catching their own nationals trading opium, but soon the target will expand to the merchants of the British Empire.”
“I will try to persuade the centrist members immediately. We shouldn’t think about humanitarian issues, but rather the immediate damage and loss to the merchants. If they intended to ignore it, they shouldn’t have imposed taxes on them. They take everything while calling it dirty money. Is that all? No rights, only obligations!”
MacQuan threw down his gloves and steadied his breathing. His back heaved up and down for a moment, unable to contain his excitement.
“Chairman Cornwall is muddying the waters for everyone. The operation to disrupt public opinion is no joke. Truly a snake-like fellow.”
“I thought it would take time for him to settle back in after his return, but it seems that’s not the case.”
“The scale of the power he’s building is much larger than expected. A rotten human should be excised as soon as possible, but it’s not an easy task.”
Since the Duke of Cornwall’s return, the atmosphere within the House of Lords and the House of Commons had been shifting strangely. The Queen was also passive regarding the opium issue. This was largely due to the growing perception of the immorality and negativity of opium spreading within the country.
They pretended to be noble, arguing over ethics and morality, but they were equally filthy. The state had led the way in setting the stage, gathering people, and pushing the business, only to hide the final profits in the darkness. If they could not take responsibility, the price of the filthy sin had to be shared equally.
“Protecting our own merchants is the top priority. Parliament has declared a state of emergency. Colonel Harrison has been notified to prioritize the protection of British nationals while attempting negotiations. If an accident occurs, he will be deployed immediately.”
“Lester, when the ship Replin departs next week, I intend to go to Guangzhou as well.”
At the unexpected words, MacQuan’s eyes widened.
“The situation is not good. Going to Guangzhou at a time like this is madness.”
“A significant number of Klaus employees are stranded there. As an employee before being a representative, I need to grasp the situation on the ground. Wouldn’t you have gone if you were me?”
“……You’re crazy.”
“Don’t worry too much.”
Robert shook his head with a bitter smile. MacQuan, unable to bring himself to agree, covered his forehead with both hands to hide his expression.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t produce results. I feel a great sense of frustration.”
The gloomy voice spoke for the helplessness he felt. Even when thinking optimistically, MacQuan felt a sense of urgency whenever he faced the ever-changing currents of the times. For several years now, the core bills regarding the dispatch of troops had either been indefinitely delayed or, even if passed, were repeatedly blocked in the upper readings.
“Not all of the Conservatives are stubborn blockheads. There have always been those with rational arguments. There were those who expressed centrist views in the last reading.”
Observing his friend stained with guilt, Robert took MacQuan’s hand.
“Lester, don’t think too hastily. At least among the trading merchants in England, no one belittles or ignores your efforts.”
“Robert.”
“Someone might curse or point fingers, but to us, you are a politician we absolutely need.”
Despite the blind trust, the guilt would not vanish. Overwhelmed by the surging emotions, MacQuan slowly closed his eyes. The situation was spiraling toward the worst, and the responses were mere stopgap measures. No one, for the sake of nobility, wanted to squeeze out the rotten pus. They were a breed of people who did not know that recognition and dignity do not feed a hungry man.
“We must speed up. It’s better to remove obstacles quickly.”
The pupils revealed beneath the shadowed eyelids shone coldly.
The conversation continued late into the night. Despite repeated attempts to stop him, Robert, who had come out to the carriage, looked up at the humid sky.
“Dark clouds have gathered. It will rain tomorrow. Are you heading straight home?”
“I must. I need to organize the materials you gave me.”
“I hope I haven’t burdened you with too much work.”
“It’s something I must do.”
MacQuan instructed the coachman to move the document boxes into the carriage. The materials filled two specially prepared cardboard boxes and still overflowed.
“It’s cold, so get inside quickly.”
As night fell, the temperature dropped sharply, and the wind was filled with a chill. Just before boarding the carriage, MacQuan raised the collar of his coat and requested a handshake from Robert again. They held hands with firm trust.
“The session opens again in fifteen days. I plan to persuade as many members as possible until then, so please wait a little longer. Since the Queen’s state-of-the-nation address this year also discussed the problems of conventional trade, it won’t end with just swimming beneath the surface.”
“That is good news.”
At the words filled with determined will, Robert wore a gentle smile. After the final farewell, the coachman, having confirmed the employer’s boarding, raised the whip. With a rattling sound, the wheels set off.
MacQuan leaned against the window and watched his friend fade into the distance. As the sound of hooves gradually quickened, the carriage gained speed.
Only after Robert’s figure had completely disappeared from the window did MacQuan open the box again and take out the documents.
The frequency of threats toward merchants in Lintin and Guangzhou was on the rise. He no longer had the luxury to be played with in Cornwall’s palm.
Beneath his deep brown hair, a heavy yet sharp gaze was revealed. Thoughts of the upcoming weekend and Count Vispilt had long since vanished.
Rattle, rattle.
The speed of the carriage running on the paved road increased further.
Between reviewing the documents, MacQuan took in the scenery outside the window. The streets, now blanketed in complete darkness, possessed a vitality different from the daytime. While most shops were closed, a few pubs with lights on were filled with people who had finished a hard day’s work. Despite the cold weather, some could be seen drinking cheap gin or beer at outdoor tables in front of the shops.
The heavy night clouds were already scattering raindrops. With the rain falling one or two drops at a time, a sense of urgency crept into the coachman’s whipping. Once they left the bustling district, the raindrops grew thicker, and the secluded scenery unique to a rainy night continued outside the window. There were still several miles left until the mansion.
‘I’m tired.’
Around then, MacQuan closed his eyes for a moment due to the heavy fatigue.
Of course, the idea of “a moment” was highly subjective; by the time he opened his eyes again, the carriage had already arrived at Emblin Hall.
“Whoa—”
The carriage came to a complete stop in time with the coachman’s voice soothing the horses. When the door opened, the ground was soaked from the rain that had grown more violent in the meantime. At the main gate, a mansion servant was waiting with a lamp. It looked as though it would rain all night. The servant, who had come out to the carriage, opened an umbrella.
“You have arrived, sir.”
“Mm. Be careful to move the boxes so they don’t get wet in the rain.”
“Understood.”
Stepping out of the carriage, MacQuan gestured toward the vehicle. Though he was tired, he intended to check everything tonight.
“Tell the others to go in and rest as well.”
“Yes.”
Just as he was about to walk away, dismissing the servant with a vague gesture, Shuman, the general butler of the mansion dressed in formal attire, approached quickly with an umbrella.
“Master, a guest has arrived.”
“A guest? At this hour?”
His straight eyebrows shifted on his forehead. It was a night where even the moon had leaned behind the clouds. Unless invited, visiting a residence late at night was a great discourtesy. Who was this great person who had come? His uncontrolled expression frowned with displeasure.
“There is no one who should be coming. Did any place send a letter in advance?”
“Not a letter, but……”
The old butler’s expression was tinged with bewilderment. His attempt to ask who it was stopped at the immediate answer that followed.
“Count Vispilt of the Duke of Cornwall’s house has visited. He arrived around evening and has been waiting for you for several hours.”
“……Count Vispilt?”
“I told him that I had received no prior notice, but since he said he had an appointment with you, I showed him inside.”
“…….”
Only then did MacQuan notice the presence of another carriage waiting to one side of the mansion entrance. The moment he approached the window and confirmed the exterior of the carriage, his heart tightened painfully. The emblem engraved on the side of the carriage was a family crest he knew well. The eyes looking at the carriage slowly burned with ecstasy.
He finally came.
Finally, Cornwall had offered his neck beneath his feet.
That man, like a wary wild animal, had finally fallen into the trap he had dug.
“No service is needed.”
It was a short answer, but unlike usual, his tone was somewhat high and fast. To gauge the employer’s intention, the butler took a step closer.
“Shall I prepare some light food?”
“No.”
A firm refusal followed.
“Important matters will be discussed, so escort the Earl to the drawing room immediately. Tell all the servants to be dismissed for the day. You alone shall remain on standby in the annex; unless called separately, you are absolutely not to enter the main building. Control all entrances and exits.”
“Understood.”
“Absolutely. No one must enter the main building.”
In an instant, the atmosphere within the mansion shifted. A trace of cruelty settled at the corners of his crooked lips. It was the moment the flag of victory was planted.
The dying fire in the hearth looked exceptionally red. Contrary to the silent expression as he stared into the flames, the man’s hand was trembling slightly.
“There are no movements to formalize the annulment, but it seems there is some deal between Baronet Enfield and the Duke of Devonshire regarding the marriage. I will investigate further.”
His unstable focus eventually landed on a statue positioned against one wall of the drawing room.
“…….”
The bust, carved from the finest marble, was a masterpiece far too magnificent to be tucked away in a corner of a drawing room rather than the main lobby or the gallery hall.
Without realizing it, Aaron rose from his seat and approached the statue as if possessed. His hushed footsteps carried thousands of emotions he could not quite suppress.
The muscles were so precise, the hair so soft, and the lines between the folds of the clothing so vivid that it was hard to believe the base was stone; it possessed a vitality that made it seem almost human.
‘In a place like this……’
Thoughts he could not bring himself to finish sank heavily. His gaze, tracing the past, revealed wounds he could not hide. Even without analyzing the carving technique or characteristics, Aaron could easily deduce who had sculpted the majestic bust before him. As far as he knew, there was only one person capable of carving such perfect lines.
Phillipe Morgan.
Aaron recalled the first teacher who had taught him the art of sarcasm, a man from whom he had not heard a single word for several years following his father’s purge. It was clear that the bust was a recent work. There was no piece by Morgan that he did not recognize. His teacher’s sculptures were the pinnacle of art that he had pursued with a terrifying longing.
‘So, he was alive.’
A dry smile, resembling a withered leaf, touched his lips. He had never imagined he would find traces of Morgan and his own ruined past in a place like this. Just as he was about to sink into his memories—
Bang—!
The drawing room door swung open with a violent crash. The sudden noise scattered his thoughts into nothingness. He wasn’t even curious about who the rude person was who hadn’t even knocked. There was only one person in this mansion capable of such an act. Aaron took a shallow breath and turned around.
“…….”
A man appeared through the wide-open door. MacQueen Lester, Baronet of Enfield. The owner of this rootless mansion that was flashy only in appearance.
Before Aaron could even properly check his face, the man strode toward him with rapid paces. His gait was extremely rough and violent. His glaring eyes were so piercing that he looked enraged. It was the exact same expression he had worn upon waking up in the forest not long ago.
A look of dislike.
Of loathing.
Of contempt.
Before he could properly face the changed reality, the master of the house arrived right in front of Aaron. Despite the gap of less than a span, Aaron’s head naturally tilted back. The eyes looking down at him from a higher vantage point were truly impudent. Aaron spoke his business in a cold tone.
“……Do not misunderstand. I visited for other business. I regret that I could not contact you in advance.”
Despite the harsh words, there was no answer. It was an oppressive silence. After pausing to choose his words, Aaron shifted the topic as if nothing were wrong.
“It seems you need to retrain your servants. Perhaps they take after their master, as their manners are a mess and their attitude is abysmal. Furthermore, seeing such a magnificent statue left haphazardly in a shabby drawing room makes me doubt the standards of both you and your staff. Of course, I know it is ridiculous to expect aesthetic appreciation of art from a merchant like you, but……”
The voice escaping his lips was thick, stifled by hours of waiting.
“The placement and preservation methods are a disaster. I know you lack even the most basic knowledge of art, but displaying it this way only makes you a laughingstock. Your level is quite apparent.”
MacQueen listened silently to the grumpy complaints before letting out a low laugh.
“Did you come all this way just to say that?”
“…….”
“Did you come solely to deliver those words?”
Asking again, MacQueen swept his rain-soaked hair back from his forehead. To avoid the increasingly uncomfortable atmosphere, Aaron cast his gaze downward. His mouth went dry, and his heart beat involuntarily. For a long time, he focused solely on the other man’s shoes.
“I know it is a great discourtesy to visit at this hour, but there is something I wish to ask.”
“Aaron.”
A familiar call, a familiar voice. Aaron stopped breathing for a moment and widened his eyes. The way the man spoke his name was painfully unfamiliar.
Despite the same vocabulary, the same pronunciation.
Why did it feel so different?
“May I assume that you came to see me?”
A heavy sensation rose slowly from his ankles. A wave resembling intense regret also shook him. He should not have come here. Aaron tried to ignore the flooding emotions and glared. Despair spread quickly across his gloomy face.
“Aaron.”
The low voice called him once more. Aaron trembled with an unbearable sense of humiliation. There was no greater insult than having one’s name called by a lower class whose status couldn’t even be compared.
“Seeing how you wag your tongue so recklessly, you’ve clearly gone mad. How dare you……”
Aaron barked low in a voice full of anger. Despite the raging fury he displayed, the expression of the man committing such impudence remained utterly brazen. The desperate acting, as if mimicking a dog in a shack, was almost laughable.
“Please tell me your name.”
“Aaron.”
In unbearable pain, Aaron reached into his coat for his gun, wanting to rip apart the mouth that continued to babble.
“Aaron.”
The arrogant man took one step closer. Dark brown hair, wet from the rain, was scattered over a forehead beautifully tanned by the sun. It wasn’t red. The deep, straight eyebrows and clear eyes were terribly familiar yet strange. Looking at him made Aaron feel as if his heart were being crushed. It was agonizing and painful, yet Aaron did not know why.
Aaron, Aaron.
The dog had called his name repeatedly until he lost consciousness. Even amidst the pool of dark red blood spreading across the floor.
I should not have told him.
I should never have told you my name.
The low voice in his memory became thorns, then a tree, planting roots and wrapping around his body to choke his breath. As memories blurred and emotions he had killed for years surged back, Aaron turned his head away in irritation.
“May I interpret this as you accepting my request?”
A strange silence pierced the space. A fierce gaze was directed at one person with an almost burdensome intensity. The moment he faced the coldly burning flames, a firm palm cupped Aaron’s cheek.
“…….”
Before he could even realize they had become excessively close, his face tilted in the direction of the pressure. Between his painfully furrowed brows, light-blue irises wavered.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’ve dismissed everyone. There is no one here.”
“I didn’t come here to do this. I have something to say……”
“Later, Aaron. We can do it later.”
Despite only his name being called, the slight movements of resistance stopped.
Regardless of the other’s completely frozen state, MacQueen slowly rubbed the bridge of their noses together. In a situation he had not predicted at all, Aaron froze completely and widened his eyes. In the process, the sharp bridge of the nose and the cheek brushed against each other in succession. The touching cheek was damp and chilly. It was a coldness that carried the night wind. The lips that touched him, acting as if by chance, were slightly warmer and moister.
Once, twice. As the lips repeatedly touched and parted, someone’s heart began to crumble.
A wet heat rose from the sensation of skin being roughly rubbed. It smelled of damp rainwater. As the thumb rubbing the cheek and the corner of the lips applied more pressure, the lips parted further. Long eyelashes touched and parted for a moment.
“Have you waited long?”
“…….”
“Your body is cold.”
All sorts of emotions boiled over. The hand cupping the gaunt cheek tightened its grip. Aaron, who had been momentarily dazed, started and roughly pushed MacQueen away.
“Stop it!”
“Aaron.”
“You’ve truly gone mad. I didn’t come here to……”
“Do you not like me?”
His slightly trembling body stepped back. As if determined never to let go, MacQueen hugged Aaron more tightly. Their touching hearts beat violently.
“I cannot say that my intention in wanting you to come here was not this.”
“You’re insane.”
“Yes. You may call me insane. Because since that day, I have looked forward to meeting you. I wanted to hold you, to be touching you.”
MacQueen whispered sweetly, their foreheads lightly touching. His curved eyes were heartless.
It is all a lie.
Every word coming from that arrogant mouth was a deadly poison that would eat away at one’s life.
Aaron let out a hollow laugh. Everything was a lie. There was no truth to be found.
“Aaron.”
“…….”
“Aaron, will you take my hand?”
A large hand wrapped around Aaron’s hand again. Veins stood out on the back of the hand. MacQueen brought the tightly held hand to his own cheek. Warm breath tickled the palm. Then, with an expression more sorrowful than anything in the world, his straight nose and dry lips carefully touched the fingertips and fingers.
“…….”
Aaron silently watched the man performing a perfect act before him.
It was an expression and gesture that looked truly tender and truly desperate.
The sight of him rushing over without even drying his hair or thinking to take off his wet clothes, frantically craving affection, was just like.
Just like some foolish, insignificant someone who had cried, saying they were in his place.
“Please, do not reject me.”
The final plea fell. Cold rainwater traced a quiet, tear-like path down MacQueen’s sharp cheek.
At the same time, his steadfast reason collapsed. His intellect plummeted, and his shining intelligence and morality vanished. It was a complete destruction that mocked the fact that reason had never existed in the first place.
A white hand with faint scars clung to MacQueen’s wet coat. Desperately, as if that were everything.
What a ridiculous act and lie.
But……
But in the end, aren’t you my dog?
The two bodies that had been stepping back could no longer withstand the weight and fell onto the chaise longue arranged in a corner of the drawing room. Even as they sank into the plush cushions, their lips did not part. Hot tongues craved each other without a moment’s respite, and the vest and cravat fallen on the floor were covered in traces of being trampled.
Wet hair rubbed and tangled wildly. Like people who had been starving for days, they licked, sucked, and bit each other’s lips. The shirt, buttoned to the throat, was already half-undone.
“Your lips……”
“Haa.”
The touch digging into the shirt was relentless. Red bite marks were engraved on the pale skin. The remaining hand dove boldly inside the clothes. Hup. Someone swallowed a breath urgently. The hot, rushing energy was not unfamiliar.
Naturally, the two legs parted, and the man positioned between them changed angles to kiss even more deeply. Sobbing moans mingled. Though the movements were rough, the touching lips did not part.
“Aaron.”
“…….”
“Please answer me.”
He should have told him not to dare call his name. No matter how hard he tried, the man was not of a status to be looked up to. The blue eyes filled with heat flashed ferociously for a moment, but for some reason, not a single word escaped his lips. Aaron was barely able to cling to the firm chest. The rain-soaked shirt was bothersome. As he pulled the shirt with a rough gesture, MacQueen also hurriedly undid the buttons.
“Hng.”
The sensation of genitals rubbing through the fabric sparked a sudden emotion. The erect member, hidden by the cloth, poked blatantly between the legs. It was a gesture that revealed a desire to enter right this moment. The tongue that licked up the nape and the tip of the chin in one go tangled urgently again.
Hot saliva was exchanged, and breath was shared. Aaron wrapped his free hands around MacQueen’s cheek and ear. Between the sound of breathing and the rustling of clothes, the sounds of membranes sticking and parting were scattered. The ecstasy drove him mad. Following the gentle touch, the man was easily drawn back.
“It feels so good.”
The weight and stability provided by the large body maximized the pleasure.
“It’s so good. Touching you is so……”
The voice, unable to contain its joy, was so full of emotion that if one were careless, they might mistake it for whispers of love. Feeling a strange sense of agony, Aaron buried his frowning face in the wet brown hair to hide his expression.
It was an act where one carried a longing from a long time without meeting, and another regarded a clouded heart only as physical desire.
“What were you thinking about while you waited?”
The belt buckle was undone, and the shirt rolled up. The helplessly exposed body was damp with sweat. The firm hand stroking the flat chest held an obvious desire.
“……Shut up.”
MacQueen’s body, felt through the palm, was composed of muscles so firm it was hard to believe he was a politician who only dealt with documents and debates.
“Hmm? Please tell me.”
MacQueen asked again while kissing frantically. When Aaron bit the thin earlobe, the well-proportioned shoulders flinched from the tickle. As if frustrated by the silent partner, the touch on the skin became impatient and rough. To avoid the heat-rising stimulation, Aaron turned his face. The tongue licking up the chin was hot. As he let out a gasp, the other could not resist and lunged again, ravaging the membranes.
“Aaron.”
“……Ugh.”
He was persistent. He was a man who knew no surrender. Unable to overcome the reaction of his lower body, which was gradually heating up, Aaron slightly furrowed one eye. He could not understand the intentions of the man who repeatedly asked a question to which he already knew the answer.
“Stop.”
Aaron steadied his ragged breathing and pulled the wet dark-brown hair toward him again. It was an act to block the other’s vision. He was afraid that his emotions would be revealed too easily to the other. The scent of rain wafted through the wet hair in his arms.
Meanwhile, the sharp bridge of the nose toyed between Aaron’s nape and shoulder. MacQueen gathered the flat flesh of Aaron’s chest firmly in his hand. Because there was no excess fat, it only rose slightly no matter how much he gathered. The protruding nipple caught between his fingers was incredibly tempting.
How could a man’s chest be so lewd? MacQueen was bewildered by his own primal desire, but he forced himself to stop being conscious of it and focused on the act again.
“Ngh……”
As he bit deeply into the surrounding flesh as if biting into a fruit, Aaron let out a cry and arched his hips.
“It’s sweet.”
“Nng……”
“So very……”
Even while kissing frantically here and there, MacQueen’s hand steadily moved downward. Just like the slightly lean body, there wasn’t much flesh on the buttocks. Though no one had asked or answered, the dry fingertips naturally entered between Aaron’s legs. When the firm fingers swept the surface of the hot member, passed the perineum, and entered the tightly closed entrance, the last of his reason flew away.
His throat was parched.
“Aaron.”
It was a thirst so black and deep it was hard to accept. Aaron. At the countless repetitions of his name, the body in his arms flinched. MacQueen naturally felt around the deep place hidden between the buttocks. That place had long since become a sexual organ.
Despite never having had a relationship with the same sex, MacQueen felt no incongruity. Furthermore, he didn’t even realize that he was far too familiar with this series of actions. Only a craving heart remained. The hot sensation of skin brushing against skin provided a dizziness as if the insertion had already been completed. Just as he was about to push his hand in—
“Stop!”
At the shout that resembled a scream, all movement stopped instantly. Without time for soothing words, a bony and prominent hand roughly pushed MacQueen away.
“Aaron.”
Due to the suddenness of the situation, MacQueen could not offer much resistance and was pushed back helplessly.
“Stop it.”
The fingertips fastening the buttons—which had been nearly torn off—were trembling.
“……I didn’t come here for this.”
After taking the time to barely button the shirt up to the collar, Aaron quickly rose from the chaise longue. The moment his feet touched the soft carpet, his slender body swayed violently.
“Aaron!”
“Don’t touch me!”
Aaron let out a scream and violently struck the hand that had reached for him. His face, pale as a ghost, was drenched in cold sweat.
“Aaron, is something the—”
“Stop it.”
“Aaron.”
As the heat vanished from the air in an instant, MacQuan realized the man intended to leave. A heavy silence fell, with no words exchanged for a long while.
“I must go. Neither you nor I are in a state for a proper conversation right now, so I shall visit again another time.”
His steps toward the console were visibly unstable. Staggering, Aaron picked up his waistcoat and the cravat from which the pin had fallen. His fingertips trembled uncontrollably, unable to feign composure.
“Lord Wizfeldon.”
At the return of the formal title, Aaron stopped in the middle of putting on his waistcoat and turned around.
“I do not believe our kiss just now was a mere illusion.”
As MacQuan whispered the secrets of his heart, his expression remained utterly impassive, contrasting with the sweetness of his words.
“And you sought me out before the weekend had even arrived.”
Despite the whisper disguised as desperation, Aaron offered no answer and simply continued fastening his buttons. MacQuan smiled brightly, remaining in the position from which he had been pushed.
‘He was so passionate that he rushed here in his family carriage just to reach me a day sooner.’
That foolish passion would likely serve as a useful lever in the future. To be so intoxicated by emotion that he walked into hell of his own accord, unaware of the end—what a truly foolish man.
The hidden interior of MacQuan’s mind roared, baring white teeth.
“That is enough for me.”
The predator, having secured the advantageous position, wore a leisurely smile. Having finally donned his waistcoat, Aaron scanned the area for his coat.
“I shall ensure I am not a burden to you. I will not pretend to know you in places where there are many eyes. However, regardless of the space, if I can be with you, I will not endure any circumstance that keeps us apart.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. What happened just now was nothing more than an accident. I wasn’t in my right mind either.”
Contrary to the mocking content, the voice answering was pitifully small. There was no trace of the man who had laughed frivolously while intoxicated by drugs and alcohol, or who had acted violently while threatening with a gun.
Yes. Just like a docile prey that had wandered into a trap.
Hiding the rising ridicule, MacQuan lowered his eyebrows in a feigned look of sorrow.
“I wish for us to have a relationship where we are sincere with one another. I know it is difficult for you to answer immediately. I understand that you need time and explanation.”
“It seems the Baronet enjoys the romance novels popular among the ladies.”
Aaron muttered with a faint scoff. Watching Aaron pick up his woolen coat, MacQuan slowly shrugged his shoulders.
“Regrettably, I do not.”
“I have no intention of reading a third-rate novel written by you.”
“I admit I was hasty. I only hope that the Earl will consider this relationship just one more time.”
“…The Baronet would do well to cool his head as well.”
Aaron’s fingertips hesitated for a moment. Noticing the sign of hesitation, a sophisticated smile bloomed on MacQuan’s lips. He carelessly brushed back his rain-soaked hair and continued his whispered promises.
“Earl, I hope that we may continue to see each other seriously. This feeling is the perfect truth, untainted by any lie.”
Aaron crumpled his face coldly and turned away without a word. The gaze he cast back was fierce. It was an answer already decided, to the point where such pathetic resistance was useless. Even though he felt he didn’t need to hear it in words, MacQuan took in the sight of that straight back one last time.
“I shall send another letter.”
“….”
“Until the day you come to me, I will continue to do so.”
A silent, bright smile was etched on his face. The Goddess of Victory had chosen none other than himself.
“I’ll be going.”
The silence was brief; with the sound of neat footsteps following immediately after, the traces of the man who had shared his body for a moment quickly faded away. In the space where the two had rolled together with hot breaths, only one person remained, chasing the afterimage.
“….”
Only after confirming that the footsteps beyond the door had completely vanished did MacQuan head toward the window. In front of the porte-cochère, the Cornwall family carriage was waiting to take the heir, who would soon exit the mansion.
“Truly, isn’t he an easy mark?”
The man who had seized the emotional upper hand did not hide his sneer. The sound of the rain drumming against the window was fierce.
The kiss had been a thoroughly hasty and impulsive act.
He had wanted to shut that arrogant mouth that spoke of dignity while pointing to a stone carving he couldn’t even remember when he’d bought. He wanted to silence that vanity-filled mouth that gave trivial advice. It was amusing to see those blue eyes cloud with bewilderment at words poured out haphazardly, and it was pathetic how the man could not escape him even then.
Moreover, he found that he didn’t feel as much aversion to skinship with the same sex as he had expected. Perhaps an even deeper relationship was possible. It had been an uncalculated, unplanned act, but MacQuan knew instinctively that the effect would be greater than anything else.
“Unable to even hide how much you like it. What do you intend to do?”
The low whisper was affectionate yet cold. His shoulders shook with a chilly laugh. MacQuan gently traced his lips, where warmth still lingered, with his fingertips.
Gently.
Carefully, as if chasing a precious memory.
“Poor thing.”
MacQuan’s mind was so filled with thoughts of how to lure the pitiful Earl, who had fled in terror, into his cage, that he had no room to recognize the contradiction rooted deep within his bones.
✧ ✧ ✧
Hurst, a weekly publication of centrist tendencies, had maintained its legacy for decades as one of the representative populist media outlets representing the English middle and working classes.
Despite its long history, Hurst was suffering from chronic deficits. The accumulating debts, the inversely proportional circulation, the soaring printing costs compared to a price that was nearly free distribution—these were problems that had plagued Berenbara Porter, the representative of Hurst, for a long time.
Just as his remaining nerves were about to snap at the sight of the notices of debt fulfillment piling up in the mailbox at the entrance to his office, an unexpected stroke of luck came to him.
“Do… do you truly mean you will acquire it for that amount?”
“Think of it as an investment rather than an acquisition.”
The joy was brief; calculating coldly, Porter honestly conveyed the current state of Hurst to the gentleman. Although he was the representative of a failing company, he had lived his entire life without committing sins against others. If he received such a massive investment while hiding the disastrous financial situation, he might survive for now, but he could cause immense damage to this kind investor.
“To be honest, my company is on the verge of bankruptcy. I couldn’t even pay the employees’ salaries, so they all went on leave last month. There is no guarantee that the investment amount will be recovered.”
“My dear Mr. Porter.”
At the voice that almost trembled, the gentleman sitting opposite laughed heartily and waved his hand. The man, who had hair nearly black, appeared to be in his early to mid-forties, and a noble aura naturally flowed from his attire, manner of speaking, and attitude.
“You do not have to worry about such things in the slightest.”
After laughing for a while, the man wiped the tears gathered at the corners of his eyes and brought his fingertips together again. The dim light of the oil lamp reflected and sparkled in his monocle.
“It is fine even if it causes immense loss—though for Mr. Porter’s sake, I hope such a thing does not happen—but if the operation reaches a level where it is impossible despite the investment, I do not mind if it ends in bankruptcy or a sale.”
“I don’t quite understand. If that’s the case, there is no benefit to you, sir. I have never heard of such an investment anywhere.”
The eyebrows, which naturally drooped to give a melancholy impression, fell even further. The man waved his hand, telling him to be at ease.
“I do not know if you will believe me, but I have kept a close eye on Hurst’s articles for a long time. I have been deeply impressed by the sharp criticism directed at the greed-soaked Whigs and the corrupt Tories within the Conservative Party. I apologize, but I even conducted a separate investigation to see if you had been paid off by someone.”
“An investigation? I am a man who has worked solely on conviction.”
“Ah, please do not misunderstand. It was by no means a personal inquiry into your private life. I agree with your statement. That is why Hurst has survived while many other centrist weeklies have been closed and disappeared.”
“It’s nearly dead, though…”
The man’s eyes curved pleasantly.
“As I mentioned at first, I have no intention of directly intervening in the operation of Hurst. I only hope that you will continue, as you have until now, to strive in writing articles for a better society. I will do my best to attract and provide investment funds. Ah, of course.”
The man paused for a moment and swallowed hard. His protruding Adam’s apple moved significantly.
“When truly necessary, I shall provide the necessary information. Even that is not a compulsion. If Mr. Porter deems the materials I provide to be a good subject for an article after sufficient verification, you may simply publish it in Hurst.”
He put his gloves back on, driving in the final nail.
“I do not work for anyone. That is also related to my convictions. I have never succumbed to those who tried to win me over. I appreciate the offer of investment, but if the intention is for me to publish articles that suit your taste, sir, I cannot help you.”
“I know, Mr. Porter. That is why I am telling you. I said it is not a necessity. You will simply know the moment you see it. The fact that, as a righteous journalist, you could never overlook it. That is the reason I chose Mr. Berenbara Porter and Hurst.”
A smile that hid his true intentions reached his ears. Ironically, the tone that said it wasn’t a necessity contained a compulsion that it must be done. Feeling as if a ghost had passed through his body, Porter could only blink, unable to utter a word.
“I must be going.”
The man checked the time with his pocket watch and concluded the conversation.
“Ah, yes, yes.”
Following the motion of the man slowly rising, Porter naturally tilted his head back. With a height of nearly six feet, his presence was overwhelming.
“I could not speak at length today due to a lack of time. Necessary matters will be conveyed through my agent. If there is anything urgent, please send an express letter here. I shall answer as faithfully as possible.”
Having finished his business, the man gave a refreshing smile. On a small business card ornately decorated with a gold border, a name he had never heard of and an office address were printed in cursive.
The sound of footsteps traversing the back alleys of Fleet Street was urgent. After turning a corner along a path of densely packed old tenements and haphazardly laid red bricks, the main road revealed itself.
After scanning the surroundings for a moment, the man approached the area where coachmen waiting for passengers gathered. The spot where he stopped was in front of a two-person brown stagecoach parked in the middle of the line.
“….”
The man then knocked on the carriage door with a composed expression. After a short while, the door opened, and another presence was revealed.
“He was a suspicious man. However, he eventually accepted on the condition that Hurst would entirely decide whether to turn the provided materials into articles.”
“Good work.”
The boisterous noise of laborers carrying miscellaneous goods on carts echoed through the street. Amidst the crowd of lively pedestrians, the man inside the carriage fell silent for a moment. The silence did not last long.
“From now on, communication will be through you. The compensation for that will not be disappointing.”
“Leave it to me.”
“I shall contact you again through a messenger.”
The man inside the carriage gave a few more instructions and closed the door. Shortly after, with the crack of a whip, the carriage vanished from the back alley in an instant.
✧ ✧ ✧
It had been a while since the last social club gathering. Unlike the Whig meetings, which were full of vitality and a progressive atmosphere, the Brooks meeting—where most attendees were ultra-royalist Tories among the members of parliament—had an atmosphere that was calm yet dark.
The doors of the clubhouse opened. Those who had arrived early were seated at tables, drinking light wine or sherry, or forming teams for games of whist. Aaron, looking around, found the atmosphere even chillier than usual.
“Earl Vispilt, what brings you to be late?”
“There were matters left to handle. It is a pleasure to see you.”
Handing his round coat to the secretary who followed, Aaron lightly shook hands with those who had arrived first. Light daily greetings were exchanged, but it did not last long. He continued the meaningless conversation for a bit longer, then, upon spotting someone, asked for the surrounding people’s excuse and walked quickly toward his destination.
“Sir Waison.”
At the heavy call, a man engaged in conversation with someone else met his eyes. The man with the jovial impression was Miller Waison, the new 6th Earl Spencer.
“Lord Wizfeldon.”
He smiled broadly with a somewhat exaggerated expression and offered a handshake.
“This is the first time I’ve greeted you since the funeral. Did Lord Cornwall come along today as well?”
“The Duke could not attend as he had other business. More importantly, I haven’t properly conveyed my congratulations on your succession.”
“Thank you for your concern. Above all, I wish to thank the Earl and Lord Cornwall for actively recommending me to the club.”
After Ward Waison, the 5th Earl Spencer, passed away unable to overcome his illness, the special committee formally approved Miller Waison’s succession to the Earldom of Spencer.
After the succession was complete, the path Miller Waison chose was that of an extreme Tory, defying public expectations. That was also the reason he was attending today. Due to the political leanings of the previous Earl Spencer, there had been internal opposition to accepting Miller Waison as a new member, but because his backing was the heir of Cornwall, the dissatisfaction did not spread easily.
“If Sir Waison joins us, it will certainly be a help to our strength. Not only the Duke, but there was not a single person who did not welcome you.”
“Thank you for your consideration. As I grow older, my heart leans more toward conservatism. Though, in truth, I didn’t even have the leisure to think about it seriously.”
Miller Waison called the table attendant to exchange his glass for a new one and immediately added,
“How have you been, Earl? I heard you went through a lot of hardship. At the last funeral, I was so distracted that I couldn’t even properly ask after your well-being.”
At the question mentioning an incident from a few years ago, Aaron bit into his pipe and chuckled.
“Nothing has changed. They simply warned me that if I touched opium once more, I would spend the rest of my life stuck in a hospital. After all, isn’t the end of an addict always miserable and wretched?”
It was a coarse expression, contrasting with his clean and sophisticated appearance. The other party likewise laughed loudly and turned his glass. In the meantime, the end of a Leaf-Cut Tobacco cigarette caught fire.
“I haven’t been able to quit completely either. I try to regulate it, but as you know, it’s not easy to endure the withdrawal symptoms. Despite the situation, I am trying to adapt.”
“We’ve ended up in a ridiculous state.”
The past of playing promiscuously while fallen into opium scattered along with the smoke of the Leaf-Cut Tobacco. The time spent exchanging pleasantries was not long. Scanning the bat-like man facing him with cold eyes, Aaron spoke again.
“How many people are there?”
Miller Waison looked around for a moment and whispered quietly.
“All three have arrived. Once the assembly ends, we can gather separately in the reception room.”
“Let’s do that.”
Aaron inhaled through the filter again until his cheeks grew hollow. Hazy smoke enveloped him. His sharp gaze turned toward the stairs leading to the upper floor. He watched the place in silence for a long time before taking a light breath.
A social club was, in another sense, a small parliament. While Westminster was where official debates between conservative and reformist forces took place, clubs where people with matching ideologies gathered were more closed, secretive, and explicit.
Due to the nature of parliament, which repeated short recesses and sessions, debates mediated through clubs or salons maintained their legacy without interruption in any era. There were dozens of clubs alone in the southern half of James Street and Pall Mall.
As the light drinking session ended, active discussions regarding the upcoming bill submission review took place at the debate tables arranged throughout the house.
“That’s nonsense. We should be thinking of how to grow legitimate trade. Who doesn’t know that they are just buying time by closing their eyes for the sake of the money coming from opium?”
“You are absolutely right. It is a shameful matter. They are people who know nothing of honor or shame and only chase money. The House of Commons was always teeming with such people, but now the problem is that a few in the House of Lords are also swayed by such absurd public opinion.”
“It is a matter of wicked tongues. To sell the pride of the British Empire for a few measly coins—absurd. To move one’s own army just to force the opium trade! Soldiers are our citizens as well.”
Those who agreed with the opinion also raised their voices. The atmosphere was chaotic, almost dizzying in its noise.
Opium, gold.
And the wars that dragged colonies into the fray between the two.
The trade confrontation between the Daecheong and England was growing more severe with each passing year. Despite being a long-standing issue, the situation remained murky and blurred, with no way of knowing what lay just ahead.
The margin of votes for the bill regarding the dispatch of troops fluctuated according to the news delivered by Colonel Harrison Howard from across the sea. This year, in particular, a bill for the dispatch of troops related to Daecheong had been proposed, led by the Duke of Devonshire and Baron Enfield of the Whig Party, while the ultra-conservatives, led by the Duke of Cornwall, were vehemently opposed.
“…….”
Amidst the active exchange of arguments, the hand tapping the tabletop was excessively calm. Aaron, with a face full of boredom, yawned and occasionally locked eyes with Miller Waison, who sat opposite him. Various meanings were mixed into the subtle signals exchanged between them.
✧ ✧ ✧
The scenes were always blurred. Sometimes the atmosphere was tranquil; other times, it was urgent and turbulent. Today was the latter.
It was exceptionally noisy, and the overlapping voices of many people and a ringing in the ears made it impossible to understand anything clearly. There were only repeated screams that felt as if they would tear the eardrums apart and the sound of ragged breathing. It was an old house, and someone was in front of it. Whether they were collapsed or sitting, or how many there were, nothing was certain, but they were definitely human.
“……go! Insolent…… stay……”
Dull thuds, the sound of something breaking, screams, curses, and imprecations followed. MacQuan strained every nerve to focus on even one of those sounds, but as time passed, the tinnitus only grew worse.
“Stop it……”
Someone covered in blood screamed. It was a pained voice. MacQuan narrowed his eyes further to see them. It was a face that felt both familiar and strange. It resembled his own, yet it was not him. Or perhaps it was the face of a completely different person. He felt a strange sense of déjà vu from the jumbled faces. Suddenly, one man entered his field of vision.
Blonde? No, it was a lighter color. Or was it black hair?
Despite being completely different colors, it was not easy to distinguish. It was because various pieces of information were mixed disorderly within his subconscious. Even the gender was difficult to confirm. Because the person was leaning over, their features weren’t clearly visible, but the exposed skin was covered in wounds. The hair covering the forehead was also drenched in blood.
At that sight, the curiosity that had dominated his mind until now evaporated instantly. His heart hammered violently at the sight of the person lying motionless.
I have to wipe it away. That person needs treatment immediately.
I must protect them. I promised to protect them.
I promised that I would kill whoever hurts you.
I.
I……
It was the moment he took a step closer, swallowing a suppressed groan.
“……Gasp.”
With the sensation of a heavy breath catching in his throat, MacQuan bolted upright. He rose so violently that the bed shook. The scene that greeted him the moment he opened his eyes was pitch-black darkness.
“…….”
He blinked slowly, taking his time. One by one, the interior of the room came into view, and a sense of reality returned. His heart, which had been racing wildly, gradually regained its original pace.
“Damn it.”
MacQuan spat out a curse as he fully sat up. Not only his face but his entire body was drenched in cold sweat. Perhaps because of that, his whole body felt heavy and lethargic.
“It had been quiet for a while, and now it starts again.”
Muttering irritably, MacQuan walked toward the table where his sleeping pills were kept. Ever since the accident, he could never fall back asleep until sunrise after having a nightmare. He rubbed his eyes and cheeks roughly several times and poured the pills into his mouth. It seemed the stress of parliamentary work and dealing with the immature heir of a noble family was taking a subconscious toll.
“…….”
Staring blankly at the turntable, MacQuan recalled the silhouette of the person who had been ravaging his mind until a moment ago. Today, the feeling of familiarity was particularly strong. When he tried to remember, he felt a pain in his solar plexus—so much so that he almost mistook it for a longing heart. It was difficult to distinguish whether that emotion was pity or compassion for the subject of the dream. Whenever he tried to think deeper, a headache inevitably followed.
‘No. No. What is the point of all that?’
It was merely a dream. There was no need, nor any way, to struggle to uncover it. Outside the window, visible through the curtains, it was still dark. MacQuan smiled bitterly, thinking that the vast black sky was like his own memories, blocked without an exit. It was a strange night where old emotions felt exceptionally vivid.
“You must be careful.”
“You take care of your health as well. Fix that habit of overworking yourself. You look even more haggard than you did a few days ago.”
Between the two exchanging farewells, a secretary carrying a large bag boarded the carriage first. Since he was leaving for at least several months, his luggage was considerable. Watching this, MacQuan slowly released the grip of the hand he had been shaking. His old friend, Robert Higgins, had chosen a journey that involved taking a train to Bristol to leave for Guangzhou, and then transferring to a ship.
“Don’t try any clumsy negotiation attempts; just hurry and hire staff and come back.”
The listless greeting was mixed with sincere concern. Knowing him, Robert smiled mischievously and patted MacQuan on the shoulder.
“I hope that by the time I return, your long-held wish will finally pass the House of Commons.”
“I shall have to put in the effort. And……”
Responding leisurely, MacQuan trailed off for a moment.
“Hmm? What is it?”
“…….”
MacQuan hesitated for a moment, his dry lips opening and closing several times. Only after the driver signaled that they had to depart did he voice the curiosity that had plagued his nights for several days.
“In the year the accident happened…… you said you saw me in the center of Northampton. Do you remember?”
A brief silence followed. After regaining consciousness and agreeing to bury the incident that occurred in Northampton, MacQuan had never once asked Robert about it. A silence persisted for a while.
“To be precise, someone who looked almost identical to you in every way.”
“You said I was with someone at the time.”
“I did.”
Recalling the memory from back then, Robert frowned. It was because the feeling of despair from that time resurfaced. That accident was not a pleasant memory for either of them.
“Then I wonder if you remember the appearance or…… the clothing of the man who was beside me.”
“Appearance or clothing? Hmm.”
Robert narrowed his eyes and rubbed his chin. Well. He searched his memory and soon shook his head.
“It happened so quickly that I don’t remember exactly. Above all, as I told you then, both of you were seen from behind. I recognized you at a glance, but… the companion was not the case. He was slightly shorter than you and had a lean build. What I remember clearly is that he had black hair and was wearing a hat. Other than that, I have no information.”
It was the same answer as four years ago.
“How was the atmosphere? Was it grim, or did he seem like someone being threatened or coerced?”
“No. It wasn’t like that. The black-haired man was leading the way, and the person I thought was you was following behind him. It didn’t feel like he was being dragged by force.”
Robert denied it firmly.
“Rather, it looked as if you were following that man. That is why, even while believing that your disappearance was part of the Cornwall father and son’s plot to incite murder, I couldn’t be certain if the man I saw in the city was really you, or if he was, whether the person accompanying you was related to the Duke of Cornwall. If it had been them, there would be no reason for them to care for or leave a memory-lost version of you alive.”
“……I see.”
“Why bring that up all of a sudden? Did you happen to remember something?”
“It’s nothing like that. I’ve just been having frequent dreams lately, and it felt stifling.”
“It’s because you’re under too much stress. Reduce the medication and get as much rest as possible. I wish we could talk longer, but I’m sorry I can’t because of the situation.”
“Haha, anyone would think you’re my primary physician. Get in. You might miss your departure time.”
MacQuan burst into laughter as he pushed his nagging friend toward the carriage entrance. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Robert also boarded the carriage.
“Take care of yourself.”
“Yeah. Let’s meet again when I return.”
After a brief commotion of whips and horseshoe sounds, the carriage quickly moved toward its destination.
“…….”
As the silhouette of his departing friend vanished, MacQuan swallowed the breath he had been holding. On his face, where the forced smile had disappeared, only a profound expressionlessness remained.