In Order to Meet You, Beloved - Chapter 36

EPISODE 36

[Dear Mason Luther,  

This is Laurence. I hope this letter finds you well. I apologize for the delay in my response due to various personal matters. I deeply regret any concern this may have caused you.  

However, I must share some rather unfortunate news.  

It seems that this time, the muse of creativity has not blessed me with the inspiration I had hoped for. Though they say the material for creation is suffering, I am currently enduring an unusually challenging time. Additionally, due to other circumstances, I must request a temporary delay in my writing. I ask for your understanding.  

I sincerely hope that the opportunity to tell you a surprising and wonderful story will come again soon.  

Please send your reply to the enclosed address. I will be waiting.

With warm regards,  

Laurence Blanc]

[Dear Writer Blanc,  

Hello, this is Mason Luther. I was concerned that something unfortunate might have happened to you since I had not received a reply to the letter I sent discussing the synopsis. It is only now, after hearing that you are doing well, that I can feel somewhat relieved.  

As your editor, I am deeply moved by your passion and do not doubt that you will exceed everyone’s expectations with an even more splendid manuscript.  

Whenever you feel ready to pick up your quill again, please send me another letter. I will be eagerly awaiting it.  

May you be granted peace, as much as Heaven permits.

Your editor,  

Mason Luther]

“At least that’s one hurdle cleared.”

Cordelia hummed a tune as she neatly folded Luther’s reply and placed it back into the envelope. She must have surprised her editor by sending the letter, but Luther was, at his core, a rather soft-hearted person.  

Though she complained at every deadline, Cordelia had rarely missed one. She had been raised to believe that keeping promises was the most basic of principles.  

“But this is serious. I need to think of something to write.”  

Cordelia let out a loud groan, clutching her head in frustration. Before her were an ink bottle, a quill, and a blank sheet of paper with not a single mark on it.  

She had started publishing novels at the age of sixteen, but she had been crafting stories long before that. As a result, she had used up most of the obvious ideas, and lately, other worries had been distracting her from writing.  

If this continues, it could be a real problem. Even as she thought this, a question sprouted in her mind, one that she couldn’t easily dismiss.  

“Can I keep writing love stories forever?”  

While writing novels was something she did for enjoyment, lately, perhaps due to her age, she found herself questioning whether it was right to continue writing in the same genre.  

It wasn’t that she had been swayed by those who dismiss love stories as trivial. She had always taken pride in her writing and had no intention of being influenced by idle gossip. But rather….

“Is the only story I want to tell just a love story?”

Cordelia murmured, leaning back in her chair and tilting her head to gaze at the ceiling. It wasn’t as ornate as the one in Callisto Castle, but the geometric patterns that decorated it filled her view. Her fine golden hair rustled as it slipped down the back of the chair.  

“It’s not that I want to write something I don’t like…”  

She just couldn’t shake the feeling that her world was too confined.  

“I think there was a time when I wanted to write a bit of everything.”  

Even as she tried to recall memories from her childhood, she knew that Callisto Castle was where she was born and raised. But she couldn’t return there now. Rumors travel faster than words, and she had no idea when Rick might hear of her and storm back to the estate.  

Cordelia sighed deeply as she stood up.  

“By the way, Calia should be on her way, right?”  

She had sent a letter from Rite, so she wouldn’t expect to hear back until tomorrow at the earliest, even if her sister had left immediately. She was quite curious to see how her sister would react to her plan.  

‘Cordy, are you serious?’

‘Of course. You can help me, right?’  

Isaac hadn’t bothered to hide his surprise when he heard Cordelia’s plan.  

‘If that’s what you want, I won’t try to stop you… but even at the earliest, it’ll take about a week. It’s not just about the items; we’ll need to mobilize people. And it’ll take some time to train them as well.’

‘That’s fine. We need that much time anyway, for the rumors to spread.’  

‘Heh, what about Rick?’

Cordelia smiled softly.  

‘Why, he should be grateful that I’m willing to entertain a suitor.’

Her eyes weren’t smiling at all, though.  

Isaac’s eyes sparkled mischievously as he watched Cordelia, her gaze steely with determination.  

‘It’ll be fun, I suppose. Things have been dreadfully boring lately, after all.’

In truth, she hadn’t expected her father to agree to her request so easily.  

Honestly, she had thought he’d pester her about whether she was serious about not wanting to marry or pester her about Noah. But surprisingly, he had let it go without much fuss. Her mother’s silence on the matter only made it more suspicious.  

Could something be happening behind the scenes that she didn’t know about?  

Before she could delve deeper into that thought, she pictured the handsome face that had triggered all these worries in the first place. Folding her arms, she tilted her head in puzzlement.  

“But where has Noah gone, anyway?”

***

Hollemia Guild, Devron Branch.

Among the countless guilds scattered along the riverbank, large guilds with their own branches were rare. Hollemia was a guild where artisans who made a living through craftsmanship gathered. Noah, who joined Hollemia at the relatively late age of nineteen, managed to graduate from his apprenticeship and become a fully-fledged artisan in just three years—a record time even within the guild.  

A crowd of people buzzed beneath the Hollemia sign. Noah strode inside and presented his guild identification badge to the clerk at the specially designated service counter.  

“Welcome! How can I assist you today?”

The clerk, after verifying Noah’s identity, warmly greeted him.  

“I’m here to gather some information.”  

“If you’re looking to place an order…”  

“I’d like to know where I can find Olive Flotera.”  

As Noah mentioned his mentor’s name for the first time in a while, the clerk asked him to wait briefly while he conversed with another staff member in the back.  

“Master Flotera is currently staying in Mondena.”

Mondena was a city located in the Selva estate in the west, quite a distance from Devron, which was situated in the south.  

“I’d like to send this letter to him. Is that possible?”  

Noah pulled out an envelope he had tucked away and handed it to the clerk, who accepted it with a nod.  

When he stepped outside, the sun was still high in the sky. Noah adjusted his hat and quickened his pace. Even amid the crowd, he could sense the presence of someone following him—a guard or perhaps a watchdog. As he walked, Noah eventually found himself in the bustling marketplace. Amid the various noises, the faint scent of something cooking wafted through the air.  

Since he was out, he considered grabbing something to eat.  

While the food was always delicious, Noah often found it uncomfortable to dine with the Weichen couple. Awkward would be a more accurate word.  

Meals at the castle were nothing like the silent dinners in his former home or the overly boisterous meals with his comrades. There was a lively, warm, and affectionate atmosphere, full of lighthearted chatter and laughter.  

Was this what it felt like to be part of a happy family?  

Watching them gave him a warm feeling in his chest, yet at the same time, it stirred an uneasy sensation within him. The fact that he belonged to this place left him with a complex mix of emotions, which he repeatedly tried to push away.  

He already had more than enough. It wouldn’t be wise to desire more.  

“Aaah!”  

Lost in thought, Noah was suddenly startled by a commotion on the outskirts of his vision. Looking up, he saw someone being dragged out of a building by two strong men, their hair roughly grabbed.  

“Don’t move if you know what’s good for you. You won’t like what happens if you do.”  

Just as Noah was about to intervene, he hesitated and glanced to the side. An old man, who had grabbed his arm, clicked his tongue while watching the scene.  

“Those bastards have caught another poor soul. Disgusting!”  

“What’s going on?”  

“You’re not from around here, are you?”  

“No, I’m not.”  

“They’re from Pollex. Seems like that poor lad borrowed money with his future on the line.”  

The old man went on to explain that although Pollex pretended to be an upstanding organization, they primarily engaged in predatory lending.  

“There are even rumors that they have some kind of partnership with Louistron.”

He added, referring to the powerful merchant guild that controlled the area.  

As Noah absorbed the information, the young man who had been dragged out was still struggling with the thugs.  

“Please, I beg you, just give me one more week. I’ll somehow get the money…”  

One of the thugs cruelly kicked the desperate young man in the stomach. As he doubled over in pain, the man leaned in and whispered menacingly.

“I’ll give you exactly four more days. If you still don’t pay up, you’d better hand over your sister.”

The thugs spat on the ground as they turned away, leaving the young man pale and trembling. Only after they had completely disappeared did Noah calmly approach and kneel in front of the dazed youth.

“Hey, are you alright?”  

Noah extended a hand, and the young man, still in shock, hastily grabbed it and stood up.  

“Y-yes, thank you.”  

The youth’s face, drenched in cold sweat, was quite young. As he weakly rubbed his aching side and lowered his head, Noah quietly asked,  

“How much did you borrow?”  

“Here… this…”  

The young man handed Noah a crumpled piece of paper. As Noah read through the details, a bitter smile spread across his face.  

How on earth could 8 kennies in silver turn into 1 seta in gold in just one year? The interest rate was outrageously high.  

“Why did you agree to such terms?”  

“When I borrowed the money, they told me it was 8 kennies with 6 shillin interest per quarter. I don’t know how it ended up like this…”  

It became clear that the young man was illiterate, which explained how he had been swindled so easily. Noah sighed and handed the loan document back.  

“You got yourself into this mess without even being able to read?”  

“My mother is very sick. Last year’s drought left us short of money for her medicine…”  

So, he borrowed the money, only to find himself trapped as the interest snowballed out of control. The young man’s story was one of many such common miseries, yet Noah found himself unable to simply walk away.  

The phrase ‘sick mother’ lingered in his mind, gnawing at him. He sighed inwardly. Is he really in a position to meddle in someone else’s business?

Moreover, this was the territory of Frederick Weichen. Even though he was concealing his identity, drawing too much attention could lead to trouble. Despite knowing this, Noah found himself speaking up anyway.  

“How much do you have left?”  

Giving the young man money to settle the matter wasn’t a simple solution. All of Noah’s earnings were managed by his uncle, Tyrain, making it difficult to access any funds immediately.  

Although he usually handled large sums with promissory notes, he wasn’t keen on handing one over with his signature to those thugs. It could potentially be used to track him down. His freedom to move about unnoticed had to be kept a secret.  

Despite sympathizing with the young man, Noah had no intention of creating a situation that could escalate. While asking Cordelia for help might resolve things easily, he was determined not to owe her any more favors.  

There was only one viable option.  

“I’ve already sold most of my valuables… I have nothing left. I was thinking of mortgaging the house just to avoid the worst…”  

As the young man began to weep in despair, Noah stood deep in thought before finally speaking again.  

“How much time do you have left?”  

“About four days…”  

“Four days.”  

That should be enough. Noah muttered to himself, then addressed the young man.

“Are you capable of handling physical labor?”  

“What? Yes, I can manage some.”  

“Then could you head to the forest right now and bring back a bundle of firewood? Preferably large logs.”  

“F-firewood? Why all of a sudden…?”  

“Just answer me—can you do it?”  

“Yes, I can!”  

Noah nodded at the enthusiastic response and gave his instructions.  

“Then gather the firewood and bring it back here.”  

He’ll find a way to help him.