Chapter 82: Influence
Ulrich sat in the silence of his office, the doors shut against the outside world. A stack of freshly penned letters rested on the edge of his desk, addressed to his tenant lords and various knightly orders. He had spent the afternoon burying himself in the tedious administration of his lands, pressing his signet ring into hot wax until his fingers grew stiff. It was an excuse to keep his mind occupied, an attempt to maintain order in his mind. Yet, despite his efforts, the neatly written parchment offered no true distraction.
Monika and Fabian had both come to his door, their soft knocks and polite inquiries about lunch. Ulrich had dismissed them, refusing to break his self-imposed isolation.
The memory of Faith had surfaced unexpectedly, hitting him with such force that he was left destabilized more than he was willing to admit. For a man who prided himself on control, this sudden vulnerability was uncomfortable. Ulrich despised anything that threatened his grip over his own emotions, yet the ghost of her memory lingered too much. He had abandoned his quill, simply staring at the melting wax of the candelabra upon his desk. The flickering flames danced in the reflection of his crimson eyes, mirroring the quiet turmoil working within him.
He had lost all sense of time, unable to tell if mere minutes or hours had slipped by. Ulrich was prone to losing himself in the deep labyrinth of his own thoughts, but the presence of Faith in his mind made the descent far steeper. Two years had passed since he awakened to the memories of his past life, a revelation that had reshaped his entire existence. Over time, he had allowed the mundane details of that former world to fade away, clinging only to the memories of the novel that dictated this new reality.
Yet, even that mysterious story felt inexplicably bound to Faith. Without her influence, he would have never discovered that strange story. As he sat in the gloom of his study, he questioned whether anything that had transpired was a mere coincidence. Faith was an enigma shrouded in darkness that he could never entirely decipher. The only truth he knew was the love she harbored for him.
Because of that love, Ulrich had willingly turned a blind eye to the shadows she cloaked herself in. It did not matter what darkness she cultivated, for she had made his existence remarkably brighter, even as she dragged the rest of the world into obscurity. Naturally, this reflection brought his thoughts drifting toward Ashara. In many ways, she was the exact inverse of Faith. Ashara offered a similar depth of affection, but her light was so blindingly pure that Ulrich often found it perhaps suffocating.
He wondered, not for the first time, if he kept his distance out of fear. Was he terrified of corrupting her pure spirit, of dragging her down the treacherous, blood-soaked path his life was destined to follow? The novel had cast Ashara in a vital role as a prominent teacher at the academy, yet the original Ulrich had ignored her. He had kept her separate from his grand, ruinous schemes to dismantle the academy and help the Demons.
Now, sitting alone with his awakened memories, Ulrich finally understood that this distance was no coincidence. His counterpart had intentionally shielded Ashara, keeping her far away from his dark pacts with the Demons. She was, perhaps, the only woman that version of Ulrich had ever truly loved, but he had already resigned himself to a villainous fate. When Ceres inevitably exposed his hand in the academy’s accidents, Ashara had been left distraught and broken by the betrayal. Yet, even as she raised her weapon against him, Ulrich had done nothing to harm her, choosing instead to escape the academy.
In the novel’s Skargardian Kingdom civil war arc, Ulrich was fated to die. His death would not come easily, but rather at the hands of Airam, Hermione, and Esther. By then, his body would be twisted and corrupted by the Demon Core he had so willingly embraced. It was a bleak, inevitable end that haunted his current mind.
Yet, what troubled him most was the fragment of text detailing the aftermath of that final battle. When the dust settled, Ashara was described slowly approaching his lifeless, monstrous corpse. The author had written nothing of her tears, her rage, or her grief, leaving her reaction a mystery. Thinking of that in silence, Ulrich let out a small sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Whether it was Faith’s dark devotion or Ashara’s blinding purity, these women held far more influence over him than he had ever anticipated. Fortunately, Faith was not presently by his side to complicate his plans, but Ashara would soon prove to be an unavoidable trial. She was to be a fellow instructor at the academy, placing her directly in his daily orbit.
Knock Knock!
A sudden knock shattered the stifling silence of the study, pulling Ulrich from his reverie.
"My Lord".
It was Fabian.
"Lady Meera has arrived."
Hearing him, Ulrich shifted his gaze toward the window. The pale light of late afternoon cast long shadows across the stone floor, painting the room in hues of fading gold. He had ordered her to present herself in the morning, but it seemed she had ignored his demands. It was typical of the woman to do precisely as she pleased, casting aside a Count’s schedules with careless disregard. Then again, Ulrich silently admitted that his own uncharacteristic leniency toward her had only emboldened this behavior.
Brushing the wrinkles from his tunic, he finally rose from his high-backed leather chair.
◊◊◊
"Finally done!" Hermione let out a long sigh of exhaustion, slumping slightly against her desk as Lord Thomas Danvers finally concluded his lesson.
Typically, Thomas taught the sisters the broader subjects of history and geography. However, by Ulrich’s demand, the curriculum had been shifted. Now, they were forced to focus intensely on the web of Skargardian nobility. They spent hours memorizing the lineages of the Great Houses, their historical alliances, and the names of the most influential current members. Ulrich had made it clear that they were bound for a place where the kingdom’s elite would gather in full force. He expected them to be prepared to face these nobles, armed with knowledge of every crest and bloodline. It was an arduous process, but definitely vital.
"You did very well today, my Ladies," Thomas said, offering an encouraging smile as he gathered his things.
Esther, leaning forward on her elbows, looked up at him with sudden curiosity. "Why aren’t you staying and living here at the estate like Linnea does, Lord Thomas?"
"What are you even asking him, Esther?" Hermione sighed, rubbing her tired eyes.
"Well, Linnea is staying here," Esther pointed out, her tone innocent. "So I thought since Lord Thomas is her brother, he might stay as well."
Hermione’s hand dropped from her face as she stared at her sister in disbelief. "W—What? Thomas is Linnea’s brother?!"
"Big sister..." Esther sighed, shaking her head at Hermione’s ignorance. She glanced over at Airam, who also looked faintly surprised, though her stoic expression barely shifted to show it.
Thomas chuckled softly, clearly amused by the exchange. "Haha, Lady Esther, I have a great deal of work to attend to for my own house. I must see to its management. As for my younger sister, she is doing excellent work here at the estate. I wouldn’t want to intrude upon her time with Lord Rubenhart," he added, a slight, teasing smile playing on his lips before he offered a polite bow and took his leave.
Esther tilted her head, watching the door click shut behind him. "Time with Lord Ulrich? Why would Thomas being here bother Linnea?"
"You can be so silly sometimes," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes. "He is saying that Linnea would be too embarrassed to have her older brother hovering around her all the time. I mean, everyone in this estate knows that she is completely in love with Ulrich." She scoffed.
"Do you think Lord Ulrich knows?" Esther asked curiously.
"I wonder," Hermione shrugged. "But honestly, even if he does, it changes nothing. Linnea will never be the Countess. She doesn’t have the proper noble status for it, and deep down, she must know that."
Esther’s expression turned thoughtful. "Do you think Lord Ulrich will try to find a Countess soon, then?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes at her younger sister’s sudden interest. "Why are you so curious about that?"
"B—Because it concerns us too, big sister!" Esther replied hurriedly, waving her hands. "If a new lady takes over the household, it affects our lives here!"
Hermione’s eyes widened slightly as the realization hit her. "Right... you are right about that."
Even Airam, who had been quietly listening, fell into a deep, brooding silence. Ulrich was already a difficult man to read. Still, the sudden introduction of a Countess, a woman who would command the household and demand their respect, would certainly make their lives far more complicated.
She clearly was against it.
"I am going to go ask Monika about it!" Esther said, leaping up from her seat and hurrying out of the room before anyone could stop her.
"Geez, Esther, wait!" Hermione sighed, pushing herself up from her desk to follow. She fell into step beside Airam as they walked down the stone corridor. Glancing over, Hermione noticed the deep furrow in Airam’s brow.
"What has you so concerned, Airam?" Hermione asked softly.
Airam turned her head, her gaze dark and serious as she met Hermione’s eyes. "If we fail in the capital next week... he may just decide to throw us away."
"W—What?" Hermione gasped, freezing in her tracks, dumbfounded by Airam’s words.
Airam did not offer any further explanation. She simply turned and continued walking down the dim hall.
