Episode 2

Blissbury Manor. Commonly called simply "Blissbury."

It was the only place in Feltham that could truly be called a manor.

Yet it was also more beautiful than any manor not only in Cambourne, but in all the surrounding villages.

Since it had originally been built as a quiet retreat, it was somewhat smaller than other manor houses.

Even so, its gardens, which preserved nature as it was, and the beauty within the manor itself were by no means inferior, even when compared with the famous estates of Newham.

For that reason, those who visited Blissbury could not help but marvel at a manor far more beautiful than they had imagined.

"But a new steward? Then what about Father?"

Mr. Surbiton, now retired, received a pension from the university and also earned consulting fees by advising historians and scholars of ancient languages.

But, as was always the case with consulting fees, the amount was determined by the client.

As a result, his income was always irregular. Moreover, his pension alone was a little short of enough for a household of three, along with their maid Emily, to live comfortably.

Even after combining the pension and consulting fees, they should have had to tighten their belts.

Yet the Surbiton family lived quite comfortably.

That was because the income he received as steward of Blissbury was considerable.

Being the steward did not mean personally repairing the manor or tending its gardens.

His role was to oversee the employees responsible for maintaining the estate and ensure they were doing their work properly. That was Mr. Surbiton’s primary source of income.

Baron Stanford, a close friend of Mr. Surbiton, knew his honest and diligent character and entrusted him with the care of the manor he treasured.

The compensation was five hundred pounds a year, an amount equal to the annual income of a middle-class gentleman.

Steadfast and conscientious by nature, Mr. Surbiton looked after Blissbury with meticulous care.

Because of this, Eloise often accompanied her father on his visits to Blissbury.

She had no interest in the social circles of the capital, but whenever she looked upon Blissbury, she could not help developing a small longing for that grand and splendid world.

‘Newham must have many estates like this. Estates with long histories, portraits and sculptures of their owners, and countless books accumulated over the passing ages...’

Even so, she still preferred Feltham.

In any case, perhaps because she had fallen under the manor's charm,

Eloise cherished Blissbury nearly as much as her father did.

And yet...

A new steward was coming there.

Eloise's shoulders slumped in disappointment.

"Then I suppose it'll be difficult to visit Blissbury from now on."

Although it was proper etiquette to allow visitors into the manor when it stood empty, if the former steward continued coming and going frequently, the newly appointed steward might feel uncomfortable.

So once the handover was complete, she probably wouldn't be able to go there except when invited.

"Oh, I don't think that'll be the case.

He'll be the steward, yes, but only for a year, or perhaps even less. The person coming is a soldier acquainted with Baron Stanford's family, and he's said to be staying at Blissbury to recuperate from the wounds of war."

"I see."

Eloise recalled Baron Stanford, whom she had met briefly as a child.

He was a man about the same age as her father. If this newcomer was a friend of his, he was probably a senior officer.

Perhaps he was a retired soldier, coming here with his family to recover from the hardships of the war that had ended the previous year.

While wondering whether they ought to prepare for an older gentleman, Mr. Surbiton continued reading the letter.

"The gentleman who is coming is named Ryan... He formerly served with the 57th Infantry Battalion..."

"Ryan? The 57th Infantry Battalion?"

Before she realized it, Eloise had raised her voice.

It was not the conduct expected of a lady, but Mr. Surbiton did not scold his daughter.

He knew very well why she had reacted that way.

"Calm yourself. The man coming is Sergeant Ryan Thornton, a member of a collateral branch of Baron Stanford's family."

Folding the letter, Mr. Surbiton smiled.

"So, not your Lieutenant Colonel Ryan Wilgrave."

At the name Ryan Wilgrave, Eloise bit her lip.

Lieutenant Colonel Ryan Wilgrave.

Was there anyone in Albion who did not know his name?

Born in a northern territory of Albion so remote that even its name was unfamiliar to most, he had enlisted to defend his country and fought more bravely than anyone else.

But bravery alone could not make a man's name renowned.

Among Albion's soldiers, there were tens of thousands of honorable men whose patriotism rivaled his.

His name first became widely known after he saved the life of the Duke of Kent, Commander-in-Chief of the army and the Queen's second son.

After deciphering the enemy nation's code and uncovering the identity of a spy, he succeeded, at the last possible moment, in turning aside the gun aimed at the Duke of Kent.

That alone was enough to earn him the Black Lion Medal, yet his achievements did not end there.

After securing independent operational authority for his battalion, he ranged freely across the battlefield, turning the tide in areas where the fighting had been unfavorable.

He also traveled back and forth between the two countries, leading the negotiations that made the Treaty of Rezan possible

Tactics, martial skill, diplomacy

He truly seemed to have been born to be a soldier. No, to become a hero of his age.

Everyone said that the recent peace negotiations would never have been concluded so swiftly and so cleanly had it not been for Ryan Wilgrave.

But when the war ended, all of that honor came crashing down.

Just as rumors spread that the Queen intended to grant him a title and an estate, a formal accusation against him emerged from within the military itself.

The accusations were numerous.

Some were relatively minor, such as claims that he had embezzled military supplies.

Others were far more serious, accusing him of deliberately ignoring orders from his superiors and operating his battalion however he pleased.

Every one of the charges was serious enough to merit severe punishment under military law.

The most troubling accusation concerned the defeat that had dealt Albion its greatest blow.

The Battle of Ingon, in which several battalions were lost and the army suffered damage so severe that its entire command was shaken.

The 57th Infantry Battalion had been the only battalion at the very center of that battle to return alive.

There had certainly been casualties, but most of the 57th returned safely, and that fact alone greatly lifted the morale of the entire army.

There was hardly a day when newspapers failed to print the name Lieutenant Colonel Wilgrave, and throughout Albion his name was spoken almost as often as the name of God.

Yet a letter exposing what it called "the ugly truth behind that miracle" claimed that the lieutenant colonel had deliberately ignored orders from his superiors and had survived like a coward by taking advantage of the losses suffered by the neighboring infantry battalions.

Naturally, the military was thrown into turmoil.

While headquarters announced that it would investigate the matter, the medal that had been scheduled to be awarded to him was postponed indefinitely.

The title that the Queen herself had intended to bestow upon him quietly disappeared from discussion as well.

Meanwhile, more accusations continued to appear.

Reports poured in accusing him of threatening fellow soldiers, engaging in conduct unbecoming of an officer, and committing other acts amounting to criminal offenses.

For people seeking fresh excitement after the war, the hidden side of a man once hailed as a hero made for perfect gossip.

The newspapers that had once praised him now printed caricatures mocking him alongside articles condemning him.

After several months of this, the name Ryan Wilgrave had become the greatest disgrace in the army.

As a result, the portraits of him that had once been sold all over the capital had quietly vanished.

But Mr. Surbiton knew one thing.

The finest of those portraits was still hanging in Eloise's room.

Even though public opinion had turned completely against him, Eloise remained an ardent supporter of Lieutenant Colonel Wilgrave.

"Even if he's another Mr. Ryan, be sure to treat him politely."

As Mr. Surbiton finished reminding Eloise, William, having heard everything he had come to hear, bowed politely, said he should be going, and took his leave.

Lancelot hurried after him, barking in a manner that seemed to say, ‘Get out already.’

Unlike when he had arrived, William pedaled away with great vigor.

‘A new steward is coming to Blissbury!’

‘And he's even someone acquainted with Baron Stanford!’

Within a few days, that news would spread throughout both Feltham and Cambourne.

***

It happened exactly as expected.

Six hours after William left the Surbiton household, news of the new steward had spread across all of Feltham.

The women of Feltham, unable to resist such an enticing piece of news, gathered one after another at the Surbiton home.

"So how old is he? What's he like? If he's coming here to recuperate, is he in poor health?"

Even Mrs. Ogilvie, who was usually quiet, bounced with excitement as she fired off question after question.

It was hardly the most proper behavior, but the women gathered there understood her feelings.

Only a few weeks earlier, her second daughter's engagement had fallen through just before it was to be finalized.

It seemed Mrs. Ogilvie hoped that a new love might come her daughter's way.

Mrs. Surbiton leisurely took a sip of tea.

"When I heard someone new was coming, I naturally asked my husband for more details. Unfortunately, he didn't know anything about the gentleman's appearance or health. But I did learn one other important thing."

"Namely, that Sergeant Thornton is twenty-nine years old and still unmarried."

"My goodness!"

‘Unmarried.’

At that single word, not only Mrs. Ogilvie but every woman with a marriageable daughter felt her heart begin to race.

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