"What could it be? A shoe. Do you not know what a shoe is?"
"Who would ask such a thing without knowing it's a shoe? I am asking why you have brought such a worn-out woman's shoe, and only one at that."
Mikhail never showed the slightest interest in trivial matters. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say he could not find interest in anything that did not turn a profit.
For a man like Mikhail to be carrying a single shoe—not even a complete pair—made Igor examine it once more with great care. Was it possible that this was some important item he was unaware of?
Seeing Igor’s interest, Mikhail waved his hand as if to shoo him away and asked, "Igor, have you ever heard the rumor that fairies live in the forest of Edenhurst?"
"Pardon?"
Igor’s face twisted at Mikhail’s words.
Fairies. In the Novgod Empire, they were considered ominous beings. Only a few centuries ago, Novgod had been a land of savagery and primitivism. It was the land of those who had once loaded themselves onto ships, wandering here and there, slaughtering everything in their path. Among the primitive beliefs they had spread across this land, the one people still believed in most fervently was the existence of fairies.
They were said to be small, hideous creatures that lived in forests or underground. Because they loathed their own appearance, they supposedly hid in the forests near villages, scavenging items discarded by humans to keep as their treasures. It was said that if they encountered a human who did not despise them but treated them well, they would bring that person gold and jewels from the earth. However, if they realized a human was trying to use them, they would place a curse upon that person, leading them to ruin.
They were all hideous, but it was said that their eyes, at least, were beautiful.
Even while dismissing such legends as nothing more than the nonsense of the elderly or the young, Igor was, after all, a man of Novgod, and he felt an instinctive aversion. In every story, the humans who became entangled with fairies saw their lives destroyed.
With a grave expression, Igor asked Mikhail cautiously, "You didn't eat any strange mushrooms instead of breakfast on your way here, did you?"
"Why not just ask if I've gone mad?"
"Would that not be too insolent for a secretary to say?"
"You know that, yet you say it anyway?"
Mikhail clicked his tongue, chiding Igor, before looking down at the shoe in his hand.
Though worn, judging by the leather, the ornamentation, and the shape, it was a shoe that must have been quite expensive originally. Any woman in this vicinity wearing such a shoe would have to be a noble or a wealthy commoner. He examined the leather inside the shoe. As expected, he saw letters branded into it with a hot iron.
C.R E
He knew well why craftsmen left such marks on their goods. It was to ensure the owner could be identified in the event of an unfortunate incident, such as theft. Therefore, the 'C.R' at the front must denote the owner's name, and the letter set slightly apart must indicate which estate they belonged to.
If so, the original owner of this shoe would be Catherine Lauderdale. Of the Edenhurst estate.
The reason Mikhail was certain was that the initials had been left in the script of Ils. Who else but a member of the Lauderdale family of Edenhurst, who insisted on using the Ils script to the very end, would bother to leave their name in such a way? What was so great about these incompetent exiles who had crossed the sea that they felt such pride in their homeland?
In any case, the woman who had been carrying this could not be Catherine Lauderdale.
"It wouldn't be a real fairy, at any rate."
Mikhail recalled the person he had seen in the forest that morning.
At first, he had thought it was a large wild animal. That was only natural, as it had looked like a large mass moving within the forest. But as he drew closer, he realized it was a person.
A person sitting on the fallen leaves, drying their wet hands and feet in the sunlight filtering through the trees. Mikhail did not approach immediately, choosing instead to watch.
The attire was quite bizarre. One might call it similar to the garb of the street vagrants he occasionally saw in the capital. It was not even the dead of winter, yet the person was clearly bundled in layers of clothing that did not match in the slightest. The only thing that made them look different from the vagrants was that the clothes appeared, at least, to have been washed.
Since dealing with someone of unsound mind in the forest was nothing but a nuisance, he had intended to ignore them and pass by, but then Mikhail’s eyes caught the hands and feet the person had exposed. Had they lived their whole life without seeing the sun? They were as pale as a winter snowfield. Moreover, they were unmistakably a woman’s—incredibly slender and fragile-looking.
The thin limbs looked even more delicate in contrast to the thick, layered clothing.
Perhaps she was cold despite the arrival of spring, for not only was she bundled in thick layers, but she had also wrapped her hair tightly with a scarf. Watching the woman who sat with her back to him, Mikhail felt a sudden urge to see her face.
'If I wait, she will turn around eventually.'
But contrary to his expectations, the woman put on the hat she had placed beside her and stood up. Fearing she would leave, Mikhail approached her before he even realized it.
Startled, the woman turned around. In that moment, what Mikhail saw were deep green eyes filled with terror.
Just as he was observing her, the woman was also examining him. It was a thorough, sweeping gaze. It was a look he had experienced often. Did not everyone he met examine him? Each with the expectation of gaining something from him.
But in the woman’s eyes right now, there was only fear. Then, as a flicker of awe passed through them and her expression softened, Mikhail finally regained his composure and spoke to her.
"What are you?"
Mikhail knew well from the villagers that this forest was the hunting ground of Edenhurst and that entry was forbidden to the public. To find a woman in such a bizarre state wandering through such a forest...
Perhaps she thought he would interrogate her and hand her over to the mansion. At his question, the woman bowed her head low and began to tremble so violently it was pitiful. Seeing her look as if she might bolt at any moment, Mikhail felt inexplicably anxious and spoke again.
"There is no need to be so afraid. I only wish to ask which way leads to the Edenhurst mansion."
At that, the woman lifted a hand with great difficulty and pointed beyond the forest.
"The mansion... the mansion is..."
Even though he had told her not to be afraid, the woman could not lift her head, nor could she answer properly. Still, it was a relief that she could speak at all. If he asked this and that, he would be able to get answers. Yet, for some reason, Mikhail felt impatient. Then, his gaze rested on the hat the woman was wearing. If only that were gone, he felt he might be able to see her face properly.
It was a pity that although their eyes had met, he had not truly seen her face. And so, knowing it was rude, he followed his desire and reached out.
"Would you mind taking off that hat for a moment?"
But at that moment, the woman screamed and fled. She darted off into the pathless woods as if she knew them well. He tried to follow, but within a few steps, thorny thickets snagged his feet, as if to forbid him from pursuing her.
In the end, Mikhail gave up the chase. Irritation welled up within him. He had never failed when he set his mind to obtaining something. This taste of failure in a strange land etched a frown onto his handsome face.
Returning to the spot where he had seen her, his eyes caught something resting on the fallen leaves. It was a shoe, clearly left behind by the woman.
Mikhail stroked his chin, staring at the shoe before picking one up. A smile played on his lips.
"They say that if you steal a fairy's possession, they will return to find it."
It was said that because they treated human objects as treasures, if someone took one, they would inevitably return to retrieve it. Mikhail held the single shoe. Whether that woman was a fairy or a human, she would surely come back for this.
"Mr. Mikhail, are you listening?"
"No. I wasn't. What did you say?"
"…I was saying that a reply has arrived from the Countess."
Igor looked at him with an expression that seemed to ask how he could possibly be thinking of anything else. Mikhail tossed the shoe aside onto the floor and took the letter Igor held out. The letter was brief. It welcomed him to visit the Edenhurst estate, but requested that he wait until the specified date, as they were currently ill-equipped to host a guest. The date written was one week away.
No matter how grand a mansion might be, it did not take a full week to clean. In other words, the Countess knew he was nearby, yet she was deliberately keeping him waiting rather than inviting him into the estate.
"What does the Countess think she is doing, acting like this?"
"Indeed. Could she possibly think we wouldn't notice such a low-level power play?"
"Born lowly and raised on the docks, she must assume I am ignorant of the insults of the nobility."
At Mikhail’s nonchalant remark, Igor let out a dry laugh. Mikhail was not wrong. But regardless of his origins or his past, Mikhail was now the greatest tycoon in Novgod, a man even the Empress Dowager Ilina—who stood at the pinnacle of power—was wary of and careful around.
In fact, the reason the Empress Dowager, whose very name had been forgotten by her own husband, was able to rise to become the real power in Novgod was entirely due to Mikhail’s cooperation.
"Regardless, let us play along as the Countess wishes. We shall act with the humility of an upstart who doesn't even realize he is being insulted and is simply thrilled to be invited."
Mikhail tossed the letter he had been holding into the burning fireplace and said,
"After all, I must marry one of the daughters who bears the name of Lauderdale."
Marriage.
Mikhail let out a scoff, finding the very words absurd. Perhaps sharing his sentiment, Igor, who stood nearby, also smiled bitterly. Mikhail Sokolov, getting married?
Those who knew him would surely find it ridiculous. That arrogant, cold-blooded man, getting married? Furthermore, given Mikhail’s personality, it was certain that what he kept by his side would not be a woman, but a sack of gold coins.
There were many women who desired him. Who would turn down the young, handsome, and wealthiest man in Novgod? Especially those women who were attracted to his wealth and wished to share in it; they approached him even more aggressively, flashing beautiful smiles.
Thanks to this, the Sokolov docks were frequently visited by prominent women. The most famous opera singer in the capital, the prima ballerina of the Royal Ballet School, the madam of the largest salon…
The women who sought him were not limited to those who wished to share his wealth. In fact, as much as the women who sought his help, young ladies from reputable families also vied for the seat beside him.
Novgod was a country with rigid social strata. Commoners dared not lift their heads before nobles, and it was taken for granted that nobles treated their serfs worse than the dogs they raised. Yet, even such differences in status were meaningless before Mikhail Sokolov.
He was a man who had built a city as wealthy as the capital—or perhaps even more so—and claimed it as his own name. In the history of Novgod, only one person had ever been capable of such a feat: the founding emperor, Great Yadzinski. The story of how he ordered the construction of five docks when he founded the capital was still a staple in the empire’s history books.
Yet, under Mikhail’s direction, Sokolov was on the verge of breaking ground on the seventh dock. Moreover, Mikhail was only twenty-eight. He was a man prepared to surpass the achievements of the founding king.
If one could stand beside such a Mikhail, could they not also share in his glory? That was why noble ladies wanted him. Or rather, had wanted him.
"To think I have to come all the way to this countryside to court someone, leaving behind all those women."
Mikhail clicked his tongue, recalling the names of the nobles who had waited to meet him.
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