Chapter 4 There Must Be A Conclusion

• Anna brought the inheritance list and whispered, “Miss Elinor, your financial support to the family this year has already exceeded six thousand gold coins. But your shops, estates, and property deeds remain untouched. The Royal Bank certificate and deeds are still locked in the iron box.”
• “Hm.”
• Elinor stared at the list, her fingertips trembling. Her mother had left behind a generous inheritance, fearing she would be mistreated in her husband’s household. Remembering it now felt like a blade slicing through her heart.
• Anna’s eyes turned red. “Miss Elinor… where will we go after we leave? Should we return to Claremont Castle? Or perhaps to Moblack Castle? Your grandfather, the Duke of Moblack, is a national war hero—surely he would help you.”
• A sudden vision of blood flashed through Elinor’s mind—her grandmother’s dismembered limbs, her mother’s vacant eyes, her young nephew’s broken body. She closed her eyes and rasped, “No. Don’t tell Grandfather.”
• “But if you leave now, isn’t that exactly what they want?”
• “Then let them have it.” Elinor sneered. Her lips curved with disdain. “If I stay, I’ll rot in the name of love. Anna, I want to live—to live happily, so that the Claremont name will be something to be proud of again.”
• “Miss Elinor…”
• Anna covered her face and began to sob. “Is there truly no other way?”
• She had been born and raised in the castle, serving Elinor since childhood. When Elinor married William, she followed her mistress to this unfamiliar home. Now, if they left the Hohenzollern family, it would mean losing the last place that tied them to any kind of belonging.
• A cold light flashed in Elinor’s eyes. “There is another way. I’ll petition the king in the name of the Claremont family’s military service. If His Majesty refuses, then I’ll make him understand—Claremont blood doesn’t kneel so easily.”
• “No! Miss Elinor, have you gone mad?” Anna fell to her knees with a thud.
• Elinor gave a small, defiant smile. Her fingers brushed the gilded patterns on the iron box. “Don’t worry. Claremont blood doesn’t do foolish things. Even if I must face the king, I’ll only ask for a divorce decree. If the Pope could grant William a marriage, then let the king grant me my freedom.”
• She came here bearing the dignity of her house—she would not leave in disgrace. The honor of the Claremont name demanded she depart with her head held high, not as someone discarded.
• Footsteps echoed down the corridor. A maid’s voice came from outside the door.
• “Madam, Mrs. Hohenzollern is waiting in the drawing room. She wishes to speak with you.”
• Anna lowered her voice. “It’s the Count’s mother… Miss Elinor, she must be here to convince you to accept Isabella.”
• Elinor smoothed her white dress and rose, her posture as sharp as a drawn sword. “Let’s go. There must be a conclusion.”
• Twilight blanketed the ancient stone castle in a crimson hue, casting long shadows through the fortress.
• Once a symbol of the Hohenzollerns’ glory, Hohenzollern Castle had become the shell of a fallen noble house. They had even lost their hereditary dukedom to the crown. Were it not for William’s modest military success, which earned him the title of Count, the castle would have long since collapsed into ruin.
• When Elinor entered the drawing room, the Hohenzollern family had already assembled.
• Mrs. Hohenzollern sat on a velvet sofa at the center of the room, flanked by her elder son Jesse and his wife Margarita. Her younger daughter JoAnna played absently with a feather fan while the younger children huddled quietly in the corner.
• The late Duke’s mistress, Irina, reclined languidly on a divan. Her eyes were sharp, mocking as they fell on Elinor.
• “Mother. Brother. Sister-in-law.”
• Elinor bowed, her voice composed but icy.
• “My dear, come here,” Mrs. Hohenzollern said, extending a thin hand. The necklace around her neck glittered with opulent gems. “William has returned victorious—you finally have someone to depend on. You’ve worked hard for the family this past year. The Claremont family…”
• Her tone, gentle as it sounded, left no room for interpretation:
• Your maternal family is gone. From now on, you must rely on us—on the Hohenzollerns.
• Elinor withdrew her hand. The silk of her glove slipped soundlessly through Mrs. Hohenzollern’s fingers.
• “Mother,” she said, her eyes cool. “Have you met Baroness Isabella yet?”
• Mrs. Hohenzollern’s face stiffened momentarily before she forced a smile. “Yes. A rough woman—cutting off men’s heads on the battlefield. No refinement. Certainly no match for your beauty.”
• “In that case,” Elinor’s gaze sharpened, “do you dislike her?”