The next day, Gray was nowhere to be seen for some reason.
So Solea, having to exercise alone, walked, ran, and walked again around the garden with a slightly grumpy face.
She did her stretches, then gracefully entered through the back door connected to the garden and did planks in the small living room.
She finished her squats too, carefully making sure her bent knees didn’t extend past her toes.
Even after all that, the morning hadn’t passed, and the sun was still high in the sky.
“Is no one in the mansion today? It’s so quiet.”
Solea asked Anne while eating her lunch of salad, soup, and stir-fried potatoes with bacon.
“His Grace hasn’t left the study since last night, and Young Master Heyman said he had work to do, so he hasn’t come out of his room either. As for Young Master Gray, he’s been busy since yesterday, but I’m not sure if he’s returned to his room yet.”
“Everyone’s busy, huh.”
Solea could guess why the Duke hadn’t left his room.
Maybe he really was angry this time.
After all, he’d heard something like that from his daughter.
Well, it couldn’t be helped.
Was Heyman sulking too?
I did say I didn’t need the slave he went out of his way to bring.
But what’s Gray so busy with? He’s been knighted, but he doesn’t even belong to an order.
After finishing her meal, Solea left the dining room at the end of the first-floor hallway to head back to her room.
Solea’s room, located on the right side of the second floor, required her to use the wide staircase attached to the wall near the front entrance, meaning she had to pass by the main entrance to get there.
The late spring sunlight streaming through the wide-open doors of the mansion filled the spacious foyer.
The warmth of the sunlight, hinting at the approaching summer, seemed to seep into her chest, leaving a soft, comforting sensation.
“Wow, the weather’s great.”
Squinting against the light reflected off the white tiles, Solea briefly furrowed her brows before glancing outside—and froze in place.
The slave she had seen briefly yesterday afternoon was still standing there in the same position.
“…What the heck is that?”
“Do you not remember again?”
“That’s not what I mean. Why is that slave still standing there like that?”
“Huh? Well, that’s because you didn’t give him any orders… so he’s probably just waiting.”
“You’re telling me he stood outside for an entire day because I didn’t give him any orders?”
If someone worked like this in Korea, it’d make the news.
A boss who keeps someone outside for over 24 hours without letting them sleep or eat? That’s me?
Solea, struck hard in the conscience by the human rights implications, quickly stepped outside and hurried down the stairs.
“Hey, are you okay?”
It wasn’t until she got close enough to reach out and touch him that Don finally lifted his head, only to lower his gaze again without saying a word.
“I’m asking if you’re okay…! What the hell is this?!”
Startled by her harsh tone, Don flinched, and the clinking sound of metal chains echoed from him.
“Yesterday, they untied the restraints on your legs. So why is this still here?”
Don’s hands were still bound.
For an entire day, Don had been unable to even stretch his arms, standing frozen in place, waiting for Solea.
The master, who had been speaking in a surprised, polite tone earlier, suddenly switched to informal speech, scolding him. Don hunched his shoulders and cautiously observed her reaction.
“Ah, this… it’s… b-because the master has to do it…”
His voice was hoarse, barely audible. After several attempts, his words came out in a muffled, metallic tone.
He couldn’t understand why his new master was angry.
“Where’s the key? I didn’t see that merchant hand over a key.”
Don opened his right hand.
In his sweat-soaked palm lay a rusty key.
When Solea immediately reached out to take the key, Don clenched his fist again.
“What are you doing?”
“I-I’m sweating, so…”
“Who doesn’t sweat?! Give me the key!”
Solea smacked Don’s shoulder, which was covered in rags, hard enough to make a loud slapping sound, and snatched the key from him.
“Ouch.”
It wasn’t the usual ‘Ouch!’ people say, nor the exaggerated ‘Aagh!’ Gray would yell when they were play-fighting to make sure the other person heard.
It was a completely dry, emotionless ‘Ouch,’ more like an exclamation of mild amazement.
Feeling thoroughly annoyed, Solea turned Don’s wrist this way and that, trying to find the keyhole.
“Ugh, this is driving me crazy. Seriously. Let’s just get this off first and go inside. My goodness. I mean, you could’ve said something. Like, ‘I have to wait here until you give me permission.’ What, is my head just a decorative weight? Why didn’t I think of this? No matter how crazy I am, I’ve never done something this cruel to a person. Huh? Where’s the hole? Where is it?”
Don, of course, had no idea where the keyhole was, but listening to Solea’s growing string of complaints made him feel like he had to find every possible hole and present it to her.
“Where’s the hole? I need to open this, don’t I?”
Anne, who had been standing a few steps away, carefully watching without getting too close to the slave, finally moved forward.
“Ah! I just remembered a book. Should I bring it to your room, my Lady?”
At Anne’s trembling voice, Don flinched and took a small step back.
Solea, who had been intently focused on finding the keyhole while holding Don’s wrist, froze for a moment before slowly turning her head.
“Anne, from now on, don’t read anything with letters on it. Not even signs. Don’t read anything.”
What kind of books do you even read every time you go to the bookstore… I need to tell her to clean under her bed too.
Anne quietly retreated.
Finally finding the keyhole, Solea immediately shoved the key into it.
But the key, rusted as it was, didn’t fit properly into the hole.
“Did I put it in backward?”
She flipped the key around and tried again.
This time, it went all the way in, but the key wouldn’t turn no matter what she did.
“Raise your hands a bit.”
“Um, Master, you don’t need to speak formally to me.”
Watching Solea, who was sweating profusely right in front of him, desperately trying to unlock the cuffs, Don spoke cautiously.
But to Solea, figuring out how to remove the cuffs and collar was far more important than formalities.
“Ah, yes. Sure, informal speech, right… Uh… Why won’t this thing turn?!”
Don squeezed his eyes shut.
He knew his body must smell terrible.
The blanket he wore probably reeked too. To make someone like her endure such a stench…
He felt guilty even making eye contact.
Just then, there was a sharp snap as the key broke.
“…Ah, this is ruined.”
Since it broke inside the hole, they couldn’t even try again.
Wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, Solea threw the broken key away with an irritated expression.
“I guess they just used some cheap rusty thing since they were selling him anyway.”
“I’m sorry… Master.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. This isn’t your fault. Nothing we can do about it.”
As Solea turned away, Don desperately fell to his knees.
“M-Master! Please don’t send me back! I’ll, I’ll somehow get these off and make myself useful…”
If he went back, who knew where he’d be sold to next.
He’d probably be forced to work continuously without proper food or sleep.
“I’m sorry for raising my voice so impudently. I, I just…”
Solea turned back at Don’s desperate cry.
“What are you talking about? Come inside first. We’ll find a solution in the house. And try to cover yourself properly.”
Don, wearing only a blanket, tried to cover himself, but with his hands cuffed, he couldn’t properly hold the slipping blanket.
Just as he tried to stand, the old blanket slid down without resistance.
Don immediately dropped back down and curled up when he realized he was exposed, but both Solea and Anne had already seen.
In that brief moment, Solea recalled the ‘report’ Duke Diego had shown her.
‘Don/Age 20-25/Slave. Many scars but excellent.’
…So that’s what they meant by ‘excellent.’ I see. So that’s how it was…
Solea quickly shook off the afterimage and took off her thin robe, draping it over Don’s curled-up back.
Startled by the soft touch of the robe, Don hastily grabbed both sides of it and bowed his head.
“Th-thank you.”
Whether from the heat of the sun or embarrassment, the back of Don’s neck had turned bright red.
“It’s fine, just hold the robe closed and stand up. Let’s go inside first.”
“…Yes, Master.”
When Solea turned around, she saw Anne covering her mouth with both hands, eyes wide as she stared at Don.
Anne seemed quite shocked too.
“Anne.”
When Solea called her name in a solemn voice, Anne finally snapped out of it.
“Ah, yes! What should I prepare?”
“An axe.”
“Just an axe?”
“We need to cut those chains connecting his hands and neck first so he can stretch his arms, so that’s the first thing we need to— wait, what else were you planning to bring… Ugh, never mind. Just bring the axe.”
Anne quickly darted into the mansion, carefully reading the atmosphere.
“Don, follow me.”
What kind of name is Don anyway?
Keeps making me think of my missing 1.7 billion.
Wonder when my muscles will grow enough. I need to be stronger to write in my diary with a fountain pen.
I want to go back soon.
“We can’t use an axe inside the room, so let’s go to the garden.”
After asking Butler Morgan, who happened to be passing through the entrance, to send Anne with the axe to the garden, Solea quickly headed for the back door.
“An axe? What are you planning to do with an axe?”
“Oh, his hands.”
Solea answered casually with a gesture while walking quickly.
Don, worried he might lose sight of Solea in this vast mansion, followed her quickly without any resistance.
Perhaps due to his hardships, Don’s face, despite his handsome features, carried a gloomy expression.
And that kind of face was more than enough to cause misunderstandings with others.
Morgan stood blankly at the entrance, muttering to himself.
“‘Oh, his hands?’ What is she planning to do with the slave’s hands… with an axe?”
But the young lady Solea, who had already disappeared, wasn’t there to answer.
Morgan’s hands trembled as he wondered how to stop this.
Many nobles bought and sold slaves as they pleased. It wasn’t uncommon for them to end a slave’s life or mutilate their body without a second thought.
But at least in the House of Duke Bergo, such things had never happened.
The late Duchess had been someone who absolutely refused to buy slaves.
So why was Lady Solea suddenly acting this way?
Morgan hurriedly ran up the stairs toward Duke Diego’s room but stopped abruptly.
‘The Duke has been in a bad mood ever since Lady Solea visited his room yesterday. Wouldn’t this kind of issue sow the seeds of family discord?’
Using his quick wit, Morgan decided it would be better for the siblings to handle this.
He turned toward the second son Heyman’s room but stopped again.
‘Cutting off the hands of the slave Heyman brought… wouldn’t that be a sign of dissatisfaction with Heyman? That would lead to a big fight.’
The capable butler Morgan had no choice but to head toward the third son Gray’s room on the opposite side.
At that moment, Anne’s voice echoed from downstairs.
“Where did our lady go? I brought the axe… Is she in the garden?”
Why is she so sharp only at times like this?
Morgan knocked on Gray’s door and hurriedly opened it without waiting for a proper response, given the urgency of the situation.
“Young Master! Lady Solea is—ahhh!”
Gray sat in a dignified posture, surrounded by kneeling, completely naked men.
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