Chapter 39: Welcome home

Roxy didn’t hide anything and repeated Mitchelson’s exact words.

The man leaning back in his chair furrowed his brow and lightly tapped the desk with his right hand, his voice low and firm.

“In a while, you still have to return to Bradek. How could there be time left for the Church?”

The meaning was clear—Viscount Morton didn’t want her to take the position within the Church.

“Father, I still want to think it over a bit.”

Strangely, she felt like she was facing the Principal himself.

Roxy was a little intimidated, but she forced herself to reply.

Viscount Morton raised an eyelid and glanced at her, but didn’t dwell on the topic.

Instead, he changed the subject.

“At noon, Baron Carter came to see me.”

“It was about his daughter, Hannah Carter. He asked me to apologize to you on his behalf.”

“And he offered compensation.”

“A clothing shop in the Red Bridge District, and a vineyard manor in the outskirts.”

“Two properties worth 7,000 Soth Shields in total, all to be gifted to you personally under his name.”

7,000 Soth Shields?

In the Soth Kingdom, the Soth Shield was the highest-value currency in circulation.

One Soth Shield equaled twenty Solang, and one Solang equaled twelve Penny.

It didn’t sound like much at first, but converted, that sum could buy Roxy 560,000 Saint Margaret Ice Cream cones.

No wonder he was the richest merchant in Glen City; such generosity was truly lavish.

“What do you think?”

Viscount Morton’s calm voice followed.

Roxy wasn’t sure what to make of this viscount who had long mingled in political circles. After hesitating, she replied, “I… think I can accept this compensation proposal.”

“In that case, these two properties are yours.”

“I’ll find two managers to help you temporarily oversee them. Whether you sell or continue to operate them afterward is up to you.”

“Dinner time is approaching. You two may head downstairs now.”

With that, Viscount Morton dismissed his two children from the study.

On the way downstairs, Roxy was still replaying her earlier performance, a little distracted.

She had opposed—or rather, didn’t comply with—Viscount Morton’s wishes, directly stating she would sign the confidentiality agreement.

As for the compensation from Baron Carter, she still couldn’t quite grasp Viscount Morton’s feelings on it.

She glanced at Dean Morton beside her and decided to ask.

“Brother.”

Dean gave his sister a slightly amused look.

“Father’s not here, why still be so polite?”

Roxy: “……”

Normally, she wouldn’t call anyone like Leah did, but please, cut her some slack.

“Brother, Father, is he unhappy with Baron Carter’s compensation proposal?”

Dean shook his head. “Father isn’t unhappy with the proposal itself; he’s unhappy with Baron Carter.”

He reached out to pat Roxy’s head but she skillfully dodged.

Dean didn’t mind. He thought maybe his sister was just growing up and becoming shy.

In a somewhat melancholy mood about how his little sister was growing up, he continued:

“You suffered such a great grievance; Father certainly remembers that.”

“If you hadn’t accepted the compensation, he could have righteously stood up for you.”

“But now? All that can be done is to let it go.”

Is that so?

Roxy recalled her conversation with Viscount Morton. His cold demeanor gave no hint of a doting father.

…

After dinner, Roxy returned to her room. She played with Leah for a while, teasing the cat, telling stories. When the little girl grew sleepy and was carried away by the maid, Roxy changed clothes and went to wash up.

Once you get used to it, it’s easier the second time. After all, Roxy was still a child of the internet age—hadn’t she seen pigs running before without eating pork?

Never underestimate the value of persistence!

Moreover, without the influence of hormones, though in her mind the spring water flowed over mountains, through forests, and valleys in a romantic scene, her body couldn’t respond properly. It was ultimately an empty effort, leaving her a little dispirited.

She opened the door to the washroom and glanced down to see Miko, who had been trying to open the door for ages, squatting there with his head tilted, looking at her.

“Meow~”

She scratched under Miko’s chin, changed into a light silk nightgown, and thought for a moment. The time was still early, so she decided to take the chance to stroll around the bedroom and learn more about “Morton” from a different angle.

Roxy fiddled with various items displayed in the cabinet and discovered a few books on the right side of the desk.

The top one was a novel titled Substitute Wife of the Earl of the Night.

She flipped it open casually and the first paragraph caught her eye.

He gave a wicked glance at the person before him, raised his hand, and pinched the woman’s chin. His knobby fingers pressed into her delicate cheek, his icy words like flying snowflakes covering the bitter chill of deep winter, weighing down on her heart.

“Woman, you’ve crossed the line.”

Roxy: “……”

Miss Morton, your taste is a bit too avant-garde.

Setting down Substitute Wife of the Earl of the Night, she picked up the second book at random and to her surprise, it turned out to be a diary!

Entertainment in this era tended to be materialistic. For someone like “Morton” who wasn’t lacking in material needs, it made sense to write a diary to ease her mind.

Apologies, Miss Morton.

Roxy quietly apologized in her heart and began flipping through the diary.

The diary started recording from the beginning of this year, mostly daily matters—complaints about certain Noblemen pestering her at the coming-of-age ball, and days when she felt happy after eating her favorite sweets.

Overall, “Morton” was a girl with diverse interests, fascinated by both Natural Sciences and Occultism.

For a time, she even tried Numerological Divination, calculating her Destiny Number.

To outsiders, “Morton” appeared as an elegant and virtuous lady from a noble family, but privately, she was a lively and energetic young girl.

Roxy gained a deeper understanding of “herself,” to some extent.

Unconsciously, she flipped to the last entry.

May 22nd.

“Tomorrow I’m meeting with Hannah. We’re going to have an interesting day—I really look forward to it.”

The final diary entry was simple, but after all that had happened, Roxy felt a weight in her chest.

That’s what they call things changing while people don’t.

Roxy sighed, pressing her finger against the page, and idly flipped back a few pages.

One page, two pages, three pages.

Hmm?

There was writing on the third page?

May 25th.

May 25th—that’s today.

A chill suddenly crept up Roxy’s spine, filling her with a foreboding sense.

Her misty blue eyes fixed on the page, reading the familiar handwriting.

“Hello, welcome home, Roxy Morton.”

“Or rather,”

“The new me?”

Snap—

The diary slipped from her hands and fell to the floor. Outside the window, a gust of wind swept through, tossing the curtains. The diary’s pages fluttered in the evening breeze.

By the dressing table, the unfinished self-portrait facing the full-length mirror showed Miss Morton’s lips curling into a faint smile.

When painting herself, she was smiling.