The Count of Red Frost's demise, along with the judgment records of Ansel of Hydral, found their way to the imperial capital. As ever, His Majesty — actually, Her Majesty on the throne did not conceal her fondness and indulgence for Ansel.
"You have full authority over the affairs of the Red Frost territory," read the emperor's reply. "Kill whomever you wish, there is no need to inform me further, but you must not let the Red Frost territory stagnate."
Thus, at this moment, Ansel was in his study, managing the accumulated problems of the Red Frost territory.
"Young Lord, for the next three years we will only collect five percent of the agricultural tax, and all miscellaneous taxes regarding the farmers will be abolished, as well as lowering the commercial tax, is this not..."
Saville was accustomed to his young lord's whimsicality, but Ansel always managed to astonish him in unexpected ways.
"Hmm? What's the matter?" Ansel lifted his head, "Too little? I was thinking of exempting the taxes altogether."
"That would be somewhat... difficult to explain to Her Majesty."
Ansel, laughing heartily, leaned back onto his chair, his delicate feather pen spinning between his fingers: "Saville, do you know how many years that fool Cantrell has been collecting taxes?"
The young nobleman spread his hands, even this casual gesture seemed elegant and carefree on him: "Sixty years! Based on the normal tax rate, that fellow has taxed for sixty years ahead! It's a miracle that the Red Frost territory has survived this long, not to mention the unbearable chain of benefits he established..."
He shook his head and burst into laughter: "What we were able to confiscate, the personal wealth that we could pocket, is more than enough to satisfy Her Majesty, and she wouldn't care too much about this small amount of money. The properties that my dear father confiscated over the years would be enough for her to squander for a long time, hmm... she might even squander until her death."
"But that implies, young lord, that you intend to use your spoils of war to subsidize the commoners of the Red Frost territory." Saville reminded, "Even for your benevolence, that is too extravagant."
As the pact head with Ansel's father, Saville had enough experience to gauge the extent of these parasites' plumpness. Even if the major part of the Count of Red Frost's wealth went to the emperor, the spoils of war that came into Ansel's hands would still be an extraordinary figure – especially considering the likelihood that the emperor, who adored the young lord, would leave the lion's share to Ansel himself.
Even so, in Saville's view, extracting such a large expenditure from this massive war booty was unnecessary.
However, he would only raise some questions about Ansel's decisions, never dictate, and Saville was accustomed to his young lord's inexplicable favouritism towards the commoners.
In the territory of Hydral, Ansel of Hydral's reputation was even higher than that of his father and the emperor combined.
"Saville, when did your perspective become so narrow?" The young noble chuckled and shook his head.
"If 'Greatness' could be bought with money, then hesitation is short-sightedness, and stinginess is foolishness—and more importantly, money doesn't hold much significance for me."
Ansel, rising and stretching, pushed open the window. The snowstorm had abated, but his temporary residence was blanketed in snow. Outdoors, a number of amicable civilians were volunteering to shovel the snow for him.
"Such easily contented people," the languid serpent remarked with an inscrutable smile.
"Lorenzo, Cedric, Nicholas, you've been laboring for over an hour. Don't you fancy a respite?" the young man called out to the youths in the courtyard.
The individuals whose names had been mentioned looked up in delighted surprise, waving their snow shovels with vigor. None of them perceived their toil as arduous.
Ansel cast a glance at Saville, who gave a slight nod and vanished into the study.
Five minutes later, the maids arrived in the courtyard with clear spirits and dried meat. Amid the surprised and adoring gazes of the young men below, Ansel waved cheerfully, then returned to his seat.
However, not long after, cries of "Hurrah, Hydral!" echoed from outside the window, causing the joy on Ansel's face to fade into a resigned sigh.
"Saville, find me a mage capable of casting a potent sound-proofing spell before nightfall."
"Tonight? You're staying in the mansion tonight?"
"Hmm? Do I have other engagements?"
Ansel, taken aback, glanced through the documents at hand, then slapped his forehead. "The minor nobles and merchants of the Red Frost territory... I almost forgot about them. They're quick on the uptake, only half a day has passed. What about the Red Frost Family? Have they been dealt with as per my instructions?"
Saville bowed slightly. "It's being taken care of, sir. It won't take much longer."
The young lord of Hydral nodded, then reacted with shock. "So soon? You didn't use my father's methods, did you?"
"...Young lord, do you find me so unreliable?"
"Hahaha, just a jest to lighten the mood. Managing affairs can be quite taxing, Saville."
"Shall I summon Miss Leclerc to join us?" the considerate butler inquired.
"Oh! I nearly forgot about my dear girl."
Ansel stroked his chin in contemplation. "Activate the heating mode in the room when you leave."
The butler bowed and took his leave.
"Ah, one more thing, Saville."
A meaningful smile spread across the young man's face.
"Get in touch with the two friends recommended by the Count of Red Frost."
.
Marlina, standing before the study door, clutched her clothes nervously, awaiting a response from within.
"Come in."
Hearing the pleasant young voice from inside, she took a deep breath and cautiously pushed the door open.
The warmth within the room surprised Marlina. Even without a fireplace, it was more comfortable than the living room with a blazing hearth.
Marlina knew this was due to some sort of magical inscription. As long as a magical crystal was provided, it could make a summer room incredibly cool, and a winter room wonderfully warm.
If every Northern household had such a thing, how many lives could be saved from freezing each year...
Marlina was lost in thought, but quickly cast those cluttered thoughts aside, nervously watching the young man writing at his desk.
"Is there something you need, Miss Marlowe?" When Seraphina was absent, Ansel addressed Marlina by her last name, as was proper.
"Lord... Lord Hydral."
Even though she had steeled herself, Marlina's heart rate quickened uncontrollably when she faced Ansel again.
Despite warnings from her heart that Ansel of Hydral, a powerful figure who could easily execute the Count of Red Frost, was surely more mysterious, complex, and dangerous than she could ever imagine, had he done anything improper so far?
No, even though Marlina scrutinised him closely, she could not find any tarnish on the young, handsome Lord Hydral's character. On the contrary, he had helped countless citizens of the Red Frost territory without asking for anything in return. The most formidable beast in the territory had been slain by the golden knight himself. What else could she possibly doubt?
Marlina, like a timid rabbit, stealthily observed Lord Hydral's serious expression as he processed the documents, wondering why her sister harbored such animosity towards Lord Hydral.
"Miss Marlowe."
As Marlina was lost in thought, Ansel of Hydral had already set down his pen, gazing at her with a gentle smile, devoid of impatience, repeating his question, "How may I assist you?"
The silver-haired girl, acutely aware of her impropriety, blushed fiercely. She lowered her gaze, her voice still faint yet less timid, replaced by a hint of shyness.
"I... I would like to request a small amount of your time, just a little."
Ansel reclined leisurely, his hands that rested on the table now clasped together, then moved beneath it.
He queried with a smile, "May I interpret this as an invitation for a date?"
"No! Not - not at all!" Marlina's ears instantly flared red, a beautiful crimson spreading from her delicate, snow-white neck to her cheeks, "That's not what I meant!"
"What a pity," Ansel sighed melancholically, "It appears I'm not yet worthy."
Poor Miss Marlina was left speechless by his words, standing still, uttering peculiar sounds, until Ansel could not help but laugh.
"Don't be so tense, Miss Marlina, it was merely a jest." - He subtly changed his address, and Miss Marlina, oblivious to this, remained silent, her hands clenched around her dress after recovering, embarrassment clear on her face.
Of course it was a jest, how could a man like Lord Hydral possibly hold her in any regard - Marlina felt a whirlwind of emotions, caused by the brief moment of joy that had flashed in her heart.
"Uhmm... Have I been overly disrespectful, Miss Marlina?" Ansel, observing Marlina, suddenly asked with a hint of worry.
"...No, it's not that, I just..."
Marlina, who had thought she could converse with Ansel clearly, was now in turmoil.
Good news was, she no longer felt any pressure regarding her request; bad news was, the current pressure made her want to cradle her head and squat on the ground.
"Alright then, please lift your head, Miss Marlina."
"... " Marlina, unlike her capricious sister, obediently lifted her head.
Ansel looked straight into her eyes, and before Marlina could start avoiding his gaze, he spoke earnestly, "I apologize for my previous reckless remarks, Miss Marlina."
Marlina immediately waved her hands in panic, "No... you don't have to..."
No person of significance had ever apologized to her. When she tried pointing out the tax officer's mistake for the first time, she received a cruel slap. After that, Marlina learned never to point out the mistakes of important people.
"But I indeed acted rashly, I just wanted you to relax." Ansel smiled, winking at her, "Now, Miss Marlina, are you only thinking 'What is this man saying?' and not so nervous about what you want to say?"
The girl was stunned. The breath she exhaled felt scorching hot, she was unsure whether it was because the room was too warm or for some other reason.
She couldn't help but tap the floor lightly with her toe and with a voice that had become slightly heated and soft, replied, "Yes, thank you, Lord Hydral, I'm not so nervous now."
"I would like to request your presence... as a witness, a witness to Seraphina's talent. I assure you, she will be outstanding ... no, she will be the finest hunter, the greatest warrior in the North!"
Marlina's voice was resolute, her gaze meeting Ansel's without any evasion.
"Uhmm... then why isn't Miss Seraphina here with you, Miss Marlina?"
"... "
Poor Marlina, the courage she had gathered drained away all at once.
However, before any awkwardness could set in, Ansel was already smiling, saying, "It's alright, tomorrow... after breakfast, bring Miss Seraphina-"
He paused mid-sentence, as if struck by a thought, his smile widening, "No, let it be tonight, the maids will inform you."
The ups and downs left Marlina's heart skipping beats, she suppressed her elation, bowing deeply to Ansel, "Thank you for your kindness, Lord Hydral!"
"No, you should be thanking yourself, Miss… hss…Marlina."
As if the strange sound had never been made, Ansel smiled, "You should be thanking your love for your family, and that commendable courage."
Marlina, under the gaze of those sea-blue eyes, was somewhat dazed. No one had ever said such words to her, she felt a peculiar emotion budding in her heart, an emotion that made her oblivious to the odd feeling... something gradually encroaching.
As Ansel had suggested, she mustered her courage once again. Hoisting the hem of her gown, she proffered an awkward curtsy, more caricature than courtesy.
With an effort, she suppressed the impulse to flee the study and scampered away, leaving the room in silence.
After a moment of tranquility, an odd gulping sound filled the room.
"Poor Miss Marlina," intoned a voice, voluptuous and self-assured, like the siren's song from some mythic tale.
"Dear Miss Leclerc," Ansel murmured, locking eyes with a pair of impossibly black orbs, devoid of luster yet imbued with a sinister fervor.
"What transpired just now was unbefitting of a good girl."
Around his sea-blue irises, a ring of profound darkness seemed to have taken hold, writhing and twitching like a living creature.
The gentlemanly, benevolent demeanor he had presented earlier now seemed a mere illusion, a smokescreen that once dissipated revealed a demonic spectacle from the abyss, devouring all who dared to gaze upon him.
"But I am no longer a good girl, dear master."
Eula Leclerc, reborn, nestled comfortably against Ansel's thigh. "Of course, if you require it of me, I will be. But at that moment just now—"
An insinuating, uncanny smile crept onto her face. Like a boneless serpent, she twisted upwards, pressed against the young man's chest, and tilted her chin to lick his earlobe.
"Do you want me to be a good girl, or a bad girl?"
Ansel's smile widened as he caressed her chin.
"I need you to be a girl who does not succumb to jealousy."
As he observed the slight stiffness in her beautiful countenance, a devilish delight sparked within him, birthed from the heart of endless darkness. He gently wrapped an arm around her waist, weaving a spell around her soul.
"Because jealousy is pointless. Those who are unworthy cannot accompany me."
Ansel nuzzled Eula's immaculate neck, his whisper like venom seeping into her veins.
"But you, Eula, my good girl, you are destined to plummet with me into the abyss, aren't you?"
"Ah... Ah—!"
The woman, her dark eyes locked onto Ansel, issued a fanatical, almost mournful moan.
"Yes... yes, yes! My devil, my... master!"