My Youngest Keeps Bringing Home Male Leads - Chapter 50

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

Episode 50
Even after returning to the Laberose Mansion, Agnes moved about with relentless purpose.
Items she had ordered arrived at the estate in steady succession, and the village—caught in the thick of harvest season—demanded her attention just as urgently.
Already stretched thin for hands, the villagers had fallen ill more frequently than usual, likely from the meager fare they’d subsisted on for so long.
She summoned a physician from Kalben City to conduct a thorough examination of everyone, and arranged for medicines to be prepared.
Fortunately, Ignitan, restless with idleness at home, descended into the village each day to lend his strength.
With work needed at both the mansion and beyond, Agnes sent a letter to Kalben City requesting additional staff.
The increase in expenditure this year was inevitable, after all.
Once food production stabilized and the village itself grew more prosperous, her costs would fall considerably.
Kesenor, too, had much to occupy him and rarely emerged from his chamber.
Though the state of his relations with Ignitan weighed on her mind, Agnes had a more pressing concern to address first.
It concerned her father.
When she broached the subject to Alfred—the very thought she’d harbored at the Valdemar Mansion—he nodded gravely in agreement.
“I’ve been of the same mind, Miss. There’s no conceivable reason for the Master to have engaged in gambling.”
“Exactly. So I’d like you to search for any servants or knights who traveled with him at the time.”
All of them had left three years prior, when Agnes had dismissed the household staff.
So their current whereabouts remained unknown.
“I have contacts who may be able to locate them through inquiry, though it will take some time.”
“That’s fine. There’s no pressing urgency.”
Beyond this, there was also the matter of her younger siblings in Kalben City to oversee.
Silmare had sent word of their welfare through letters, but it afforded Agnes little peace of mind.
So she had taken to receiving updates from the innkeeper where her two siblings lodged.
Naturally, she paid the woman generously for her trouble.
Alfred handed her a letter that had arrived that very day.
Agnes unfolded it hurriedly and read.
“Both of them are managing well, then?”
Alfred leaned forward inquisitively, craning his neck.
Agnes grimaced.
“I think I’ve misjudged my siblings.”
“Has something gone amiss?”
“No. Edmund seems to be struggling, but Elizabeth won’t let him leave. I never realized our Elizabeth had such pride.”
“Still, it cannot be easy for them. Neither of them has ever undertaken such demanding work before.”
“That’s what I thought too—I assumed they’d come running back quickly. Especially Elizabeth rather than Edmund, truth be told.”
Elizabeth, who had worked in the dress shop, apparently possessed decent needlework skills and had been transferred to the workshop.
Edmund, who had worked at the publishing house, was now helping with the printing and distribution of books and newspapers.
Agnes found herself worrying whether they might be suffering mistreatment among their older colleagues.
Though she was deeply concerned, the innkeeper’s account suggested neither of them looked unwell.
They paid their lodging fees promptly and ate their meals heartily, the letter noted.
The details were so specific that it seemed unlikely the woman had embellished.
Agnes enclosed a letter requesting the innkeeper pay closer attention to her siblings’ diet, along with additional funds.
“Come to think of it, Elizabeth did have decent hands.”
“Indeed. I recall her helping Martha with mending on occasion.”
“Did she?”
Agnes smiled wryly and handed the envelope containing the letter and money to Alfred.
As their eyes met briefly, Alfred’s expression grew clouded.
There was something pitying in his gaze.
“Are you all right?”
“Why? Is my expression strange?”
“Your heart seems troubled.”
“Yes, somewhat. It’s strange—I feel both concerned for them and sorry toward them.”
“Perhaps they have grown considerably through this.”
“I suppose so. They’re truly not children anymore.”
She had once believed keeping them both safe within the mansion walls was the kindest course.
Yet when she reflected on it, Agnes herself had been fifteen when her mother passed.
At that age, with no father to lean upon, she had upheld the household alone—so perhaps it was not beyond her siblings’ capacity.
“But I had Rupert and Alfred to support me.”
“You relied on Rupert more than on me, Miss.”
“True enough. He was my own age, after all.”
Alfred was Rupert’s father.
When she thought of what had befallen Rupert, she could only feel remorse toward Alfred.
Agnes exhaled deeply.
“I’ve no face to show Alfred.”
“Please don’t speak such things.”
“Amy could only return because of Rupert. She never would have survived the Crevasse alone, not possibly. And if it weren’t for Rupert, how would Amy be traveling across the entire continent right now?”
Agnes cupped her chin, recalling the kind young man whose gaunt face had been creased with a guileless smile.
His features were handsome enough, but he’d grown so tall that it made one’s heart ache for him.
What must he look like now?
“Do you believe it, Alfred? Both the Marquis and Ignitan said Rupert was no ordinary man.”
“I’m not certain.”
Alfred bowed his head in silence.
“Rupert was never one to open his heart to me.”
“And yet you cared for him so deeply.”
Agnes regarded the middle-aged man before her with affectionate eyes.
“To me, both you and Rupert are like family. When Rupert returns, I’ll tell him the same—I’m truly grateful to you both.”
“It is I who should say so, Miss….”
As though emotion had welled up within him, Alfred paused a moment for breath before continuing, his voice thick with feeling.
“That I can continue to live in the house where I was born—that alone brings me joy.”
A week passed after that.
Spring in the south moved swiftly, and by midday one could almost mistake it for summer’s approach.
New people arrived at the Mansion.
She hired guards to manage the Village’s security, new servants, and an attendant to assist Alfred with his duties.
Lilia, being of similar age to them, took to them at once.
The two servants were now drawing back the heavy curtains and hanging sheer summer ones in their place.
Each time wind entered through the open windows, the thin fabric rippled and swayed like water.
Agnes had wanted to add more guards to the Mansion, but Kesenor smiled and shook his head.
“You needn’t worry about the security of this Mansion any longer. Do you know what I was doing locked away in my room all this time?”
Kesenor had Pavel throw a stone toward the glass window.
With a dull thud, the stone crumbled to dust.
Seeing Agnes’s expression of wonder, Kesenor beamed with satisfaction.
Soon Amy’s room was finished as well.
The barren space that had been Amy’s chamber was transformed into a beautiful, welcoming sanctuary.
The cold stone walls were now draped with soft rose-pink linen like curtains, and the hem was adorned with delicate embroidered flowers and butterflies.
The floor was laid with a pale yellow rug so soft that walking barefoot upon it was never cold.
The centerpiece was a canopied bed, with rose-pink curtains layered like flower petals.
Each time the wind blew, the curtain edges fluttered like wings, and within the bed lay plush quilts alongside two soft dolls arranged side by side.
Opposite the bed stood a wardrobe, toys, and a low table scaled to a child’s height.
Upon the low table sat pen and ink, and beside it a large dollhouse.
A large toy chest was placed there too, filled with wooden blocks and playthings fashioned after Magic Tools.
These toy Magic Tools were set with real gemstones instead of magic stones, so they shimmered brilliantly when caught in light.
The wardrobe, naturally, was filled to abundance.
Along with light summer dresses ready to wear, there were one-piece dresses to last through autumn, comfortable shoes, and hair ribbons and bows in every color imaginable.
Agnes suppressed the overwhelming rush of emotion in her heart, checking each item one by one.
With each small, pretty thing she saw, her eyes grew warmer.
These were all scenes that had been ordinary to Agnes and Elizabeth.
Things they had taken for granted since childhood.
Now Amy would finally have them too.
Not hand-me-downs and old toys her elder sisters had cast into storage.
“Come back soon, Amy.”
As she dusted the bed where Amy would soon sleep, Agnes whispered softly to herself.
“I miss you.”
She embraced tightly the doll that Amy would one day hold.
Before leaving the room, Agnes placed three Shimmering Stones on the table.
They were the remainder from the ones she had distributed to children in the Village some days ago.
In the days that followed, Agnes would slip into Amy’s room whenever she had a moment, sweeping away imaginary dust and checking that each object remained in its proper place.
It was as though, by doing so, she could believe that Amy would return any day now.
And then several more days passed.
It was a morning when her heart felt unusually restless.
Perhaps it was because the marigold she had planted long ago with Silmare had finally begun to bloom.
The marigold blazed with brilliant golden light, as if she had moved the sun itself into the center of the Garden.
Upon seeing it, Agnes thought of Silmare, and of Amy.
“I wonder if Silmare is all right.”
In that same moment, Agnes decided she must commission a dress the color of marigolds—a bright, butter-yellow that would suit Amy perfectly.
It seemed it would look lovely on her.
She might look like a butterfly, ready to take flight at any moment.
As Agnes gazed quietly out the window, she heard an unfamiliar sound.
It was the distant echo of hoofbeats.
Her heart suddenly quickened.
Had Silmare finally returned?
Or, if perhaps—
Agnes flung open the door and rushed down the stairs.
Martha, passing by, turned to look at her with startled eyes.
Seized by an urgent impulse and offering no explanation, Agnes threw open the mansion’s front door.
She had not misheard.
Beyond the garden, before the main gate, two horses stood waiting.
A man sat atop the brown horse and looked her way—a face she did not know.
And upon the black horse beside him sat a tall man, with a small figure perched in front of him.
A child, no more than five or six years old.
The moment she saw them, Agnes ran with all her strength.
And she cried out with every breath in her body.
“Amy…!”

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