Trashes of the Counts' Families || Trash of the Count's Family || OC

44

Either way, whatever she would say, would not change his decision to leave. But we need him in a year, she remembered. I wonder how you will deal with that, she thought, watching Cale's face.

"Go and come back," Cale finally said after a few sighs.

Ron's smile disappeared.

Cale continued. "I'll tell Hans that you are taking a leave of absence. Report to me every so often. You can receive money from the Flynn Merchant Guild with your ID plague. And why would you leave Beacrox to Trash like us? He is an adult. He will figure out what to do with his own life."

Adara held in her snort. Of course.

It was the best course of action, actually. There was no true need for Ron to be with Choi Han after he dealt with the Plaza Terror Incident. Since Lock is able to transform into a controlled berserk state, Choi Han will have no need for Ron nor Beacrox's strength.

But he would be needed in a year. For Choi Han, Adara thought. But also for— more importantly— a peaceful North-Eastern Region.

"However, the duration of your break is only 1 year," Cale added. "Enjoy your break. Don't get hurt while you are out there."

Adara watched with disguised confusion as Ron started to quietly laugh. He stopped laughing. Like a dog looking at his master, he looked at Cale. "Young Master, is reporting to you once a month enough?"

Cale made a dismissive hand motion. "Yes. Do as you please."

Ron walked to the door. "I will see you in a year, Young Master. Young Mistress," he added. Without waiting for their answer, he closed the door behind him.

Both Adara and Cale, after getting ready for bed, slept soundly that night. Happy they were rid of Ron for a year.

Adara awoke the next morning to footsteps walking too close to her. There were three pairs of footsteps. She could not recognise them.

She stayed still, not moving at all, not letting her breath get out of hand or her thoughts. She could hear the three whispering.

"Awh, do we really need to wake her up? She seems to be sleeping so peacefully."

"Shush. The Countess— and that nice butler, Ron— ordered that she look her best. If we are to go everything, she needs to be awake now."

"Okay then. Wake her up."

"Me? Anne, you must be out of your mind. She is sleeping too calmly for me to wake her up."

"Oh, all the gods are looking at you two in pity. I'll wake her up."

So, they are not assassins then.

She heard a pair of footsteps come closer, hand on a shoulder. "Young Lady?" she heard a voice whisper in her ear. "You need to wake up. We need to prepare for the King's Celebration."

Adara pretended to wake up. Her face scrunched up and her eyes squinted. "Hmm?"

"Yes," the voice whispered. "That's it. C'mon now, Young Lady, you need to get up."

She opened her eyes further, looking into the kind face of a maid above her. For a second, she saw her Unnie's face. But upon further inspection, she realised she did not look like her Unnie at all. She recognised the maid, having seen her in the hallways before. She was the old Housekeeper, her face seamed with wrinkles. "What time is it?" she asked, her voice slightly hoarse.

The Housekeeper patted her shoulder. "Too early, Young Lady. But it is needed. The Countess herself ordered it."

Adara threw the blanket away from her, slowly getting up from her laying position. She now sat at the edge of her bed. One of the straps to her nightdress fell off her shoulder so she tiredly put it back up. "Where to?" she asked with a yawn.