My Youngest Keeps Bringing Home Male Leads - Chapter 41

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 41
Elizabeth seemed to despise the thought of returning home so much that the moment the last word left Edmund’s lips, she seized his hand and bolted from the room.
Silmare followed the two of them from a distance.
That day.
Thanks to Silmare’s advice, the pair had actually secured employment.
It was a remarkable display of persistence.
Elizabeth proved far more spirited and proactive than expected—she made the rounds of the Tailor Shop and the alterations room, begging them to let her help, no matter what.
“I won’t be a nuisance, I promise! Please, just give me work!”
She didn’t mind speaking formally to commoners.
She seemed desperate to prove her usefulness, whatever it took.
After a brief interview process, their skills apparently showed promise; Elizabeth was hired as a junior assistant at a modest Tailor Shop, while Edmund found work as a general laborer at the Publishing Company.
Silmare took the liberty of investigating whether the places seemed legitimate, and was relieved to find the proprietors didn’t appear to be the sort who would exploit young people.
The first two weeks offered no wages, and even after that, the money promised was meager at best, yet both of them were overjoyed at having cleared this hurdle.
This allowed Silmare to pursue her own investigation without worry.
First, Silmare went to the Security Office in Kalborn, carrying Agnes’s letter.
A single mention of Laberose brought Silmare directly into audience with the Security Official, though his reception was hardly exceptional.
The Security Official read through the letter with ostentatious indifference.
“Herald Miller, you say? He’s already imprisoned for absconding with the Security Force under false pretenses.”
He wore a thin smile as he said it, as though the matter was trifling.
“There were no injuries, and apparently no witnesses either—unless you count the household staff. Did anyone outside Laberose actually see Herald Miller attempt to break in?”
“Everyone present at Laberose Mansion that night was a witness.”
“Well, they’re family, aren’t they? In any case, I’ll look into what happened. Since he misappropriated the Security Force for private purposes, Herald Miller will naturally face punishment.”
“Will he be punished for the attempted break-in at Laberose as well?”
“That requires investigation first.”
Even as he spoke, his eyes, full of curiosity, kept wandering over Silmare.
It was only admiration, no doubt, yet something about his gaze felt uncomfortably sticky against her skin, and she found it distasteful.
‘It wasn’t like this when Agnes looked me over.’
The day she had returned from tracking Herald Miller in Kalborn.
Agnes, worried that Silmare might be injured, had examined her far more thoroughly than this man—scrutinizing every inch from her face to the nape of her neck, checking even her clothes for damage.
Her gaze had traced every corner with meticulous care.
Under such intimate scrutiny, Silmare’s ears had apparently flushed crimson with embarrassment.
‘It must be cold outside. Your ears are red.’
‘No. It wasn’t cold.’
She couldn’t bring herself to admit it was shame at your gaze.
And yet Agnes had seized her hand then, bare of gloves, with such sudden warmth.
The sensation of that grasp—warm yet fragile, tender—lingered in her palm.
At the memory, her breath grew tight again, and Silmare let her gaze drift toward the distance.
That night.
Silmare stole into the Underground Prison where Herald Miller was being held.
It lay beneath the Security Office.
While Silmare hid in the shadows, a rat foraging for scraps became her eyes.
Through its murky, dim vision.
Herald Miller was visible, leaning carelessly against the wall.
Yet something about his posture seemed strange.
‘Is he drunk……?’
Even as he leaned against the wall, he swayed erratically.
She wanted a clearer view, but the rat’s poor eyesight made his form unclear.
“Or perhaps drugged.”
According to what the Finance Minister had said at the time, they would release him once his notoriety faded sufficiently.
Since he would eventually be freed regardless, she would simply observe what condition he was in then, and how they handled his release.
One week later.
Herald Miller’s sentence was finally decided.
For privately misappropriating the Security Force and suspicion of breaking into a civilian residence, all his positions were stripped and he was banished to a distant place.
Agnes received a letter from Silmare four days after that.
* * *
Early morning.
While tidying the bedding, Agnes heard what sounded like something tapping softly against the window.
A white bird was perched on the sill, and she could see a small letter tied to its leg.
When she opened the window, the bird fluttered its wings and settled onto the table.
As she carefully untied the letter, the bird sat perfectly still.
Once the bonds around her legs disappeared, she pecked at the water placed beside the table.
It seemed her throat had grown parched from flying such a distance.
“Thank you for bringing this.”
When she offered her thanks, the bird bobbed its head as if understanding.
What the bird had brought was a letter from Silmare.
Written in handwriting that was clumsy and crooked—utterly at odds with his elegant, refined nature—the words sprawled across the page in awkward strokes.
‘He wears that Translator Bracelet all the time, after all, so he must use it to understand our language.’
Perhaps he simply wasn’t accustomed to human writing.
Though the letter was nearly as difficult to read as something Amy might have written, at least the message was mercifully brief.
[My siblings fare well. Herald Miller has been banished and is being tracked. I shall return soon. Silmare.]
She was grateful for the news of her siblings, having wondered about them constantly.
Above all, she worried about Silmare.
“I hope nothing goes wrong.”
There was no way to know from such a short letter how far he had to travel, or whether danger awaited him on the journey—and that uncertainty gnawed at her.
After exhaling a long, weary breath, Agnes tidied her workspace and made her way to the adjoining room—her father’s chambers.
Agnes had taken to organizing her father’s room lately.
To clear away the dust that had accumulated in every corner and to change the curtains and bedding, she would need to bring in help—yet she couldn’t dismiss the possibility that hidden among the Lord’s possessions, some important item might surface.
Stepping through the doorway revealed the largest room in the Mansion, stretching out before her.
Unlike when her mother had lived, it felt desolate.
Though Martha had continued to tend to it all this while, the air carried a musty, suffocating stench—the result of her father having shut himself away for so long, neglecting proper hygiene and drowning himself in drink.
Her father, who typically remained abed, was unusually seated at a table today.
When Agnes entered, he turned toward her with clouded eyes.
“You’re awake?”
Agnes managed a gentle smile and opened the window, drawing the outside air into the room.
It was already early May, and though the world beyond was warm, the shaded interior remained cool.
Agnes draped a thin blanket around her father’s shoulders.
He made no response.
He simply swayed unsteadily, his body unable to maintain its balance.
‘When did it start…….’
After her mother left.
Unable to bear his grief, her father had departed one day and never returned.
It would be a lie to say she harbored no resentment, yet she could at least understand why he had done it.
‘Her touch is on every corner of this Mansion.’
Her father had not returned until a full year had passed.
And even then, it was only because he had injured his leg and become unable to move about freely—without that injury, there was no telling when, or if, he would have come back.
Already, proper communication had become impossible.
‘How did he manage to survive out there in such a state?’
When she asked the physician, he said that excessive drinking could cost a person their reason.
By misfortune, her father had taken a terrible fall down the stairs and sustained grave injuries—and as a result, Agnes found herself burdened with both a father who could barely move and an enormous debt.
Since she knew he only responded when drinking, Agnes left him as he was and began organizing the bookshelves.
She set aside the old and discardable items, placing the important documents into a filing box.
After finishing the bookshelves, she was in the midst of organizing the drawers of the desk when it happened.
Bang!
A sudden, violent noise made Agnes start, her head snapping up in alarm.
Her father had somehow fallen to the floor and lay there writhing in pain.
“Ugh, ……rrgh.”
“Good heavens, are you all right?”
As Agnes rushed forward, she noticed her father staring intently at something.
The second drawer she had been organizing.
“What’s inside there?”
Agnes pulled open the drawer and examined its interior, but found nothing unusual.
Then her father, unsteady on his feet, approached and pushed the third drawer halfway open.
He struck the handle of the first drawer with his palm, and when he twisted it in an unusual direction—
Click.
The second drawer slid out and popped free.
“What on earth…….”
In the space where the second drawer had been, a wooden box lay concealed.
A thick lock was fastened to it, making it difficult to open by force.
“Nngh, krrr…….”
Her father made waving motions with his hands, as though desperate to communicate something—
He tried to hand the drawer to Agnes, but his legs gave way again and he collapsed onto the floor.
“Father!”
Agnes lifted her father and laid him on the bed, then took the wooden box and moved closer to him.
“Is there something important inside this?”
But he did not answer.
As though the box meant nothing to him, he simply stared blankly into empty space, his eyes unfocused.
Yet Agnes felt certain that something vital lay within that box.
That must be why her father, so confused now, had struggled so desperately to press it into her hands.
Agnes secretly placed the wooden box inside the safe hidden in the basement.
Other documents and papers she kept in the desk drawer of her own room.
She moved her father to Edmund’s room, which stood empty now, and finally allowed the workers inside his chamber.
She meant to replace everything—the wallpaper, the carpet on the floor, the curtains, all the furniture.
She kept watch nearby in case anything suspicious turned up, but nothing did.
Agnes fell into thought as she watched the room grow progressively bare.
‘Perhaps this will help Father improve.’
Better than for him to remain buried in memories of this room, a place he had shared with her mother, forever yearning for her.
Yet even if it did help, she sensed there would be a melancholy to it all.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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