Vecna's POV:
Once I had thought everything through, I decided to draw in the net.
That morning, I had two stewards escorted to the council hall.Mrs. Isabelle Anderson, who only a few hours earlier had been bad-mouthing me as "someone who doesn't bother with household affairs" jerked in shock the moment she saw her two trusted attendants dragged in.
"Vecna, my niece-in-law, what do you think you're doing?"
The instant her people were seized, her anger flared violently.
I merely glanced at her once before turning to my mother-in-law, Lauren Anderson, who was seated at the head. I bowed slightly.
"Mother, your new daughter-in-law has only just returned to the household. I'm still young and inexperienced. You entrusted me with managing the kitchen, and I felt it improper to start pointing fingers the moment I arrived, so I spent three days observing and learning from the stewards. I never expected them to misunderstand, thinking me greedy, and rush to offer bribes. Some brought fruit and pastries… but these two went much further opening their mouths and offering one hundred thousand US dollars outright."
I smiled, half in jest, half in earnest.
"Mother, I come from humble origins and have never seen such sums of money. I thought: a steward earns only two or three thousand dollars a month, still has an entire family to support, yet can casually produce one hundred thousand dollars… That hardly makes sense. I suspected embezzlement in the storerooms, so I had them detained for investigation."
As I spoke clearly and methodically, realization dawned on Lauren's face.
So my indulgence in roast goose a few days ago had merely been a feint, bait to lure the other side into walking straight into the trap. Who would have thought that this 'country' daughter-in-law possessed such nerve and calculation?
Mrs. Isabelle and Mrs. William, the second uncle's wife and her companion, both went pale. Their eyes, sharp as blades, cut toward their two attendant women.
The two stewards were bound like sticky rice cakes, rags stuffed into their mouths, kneeling flat on the floor, able only to whimper "mmph, mmph," utterly miserable.
Under their mistresses' icy stares that made their scalps prickle, the two finally understood: they had thought me easy to bribe, never imagining that the silver they brought would become the noose tightening around their own necks.
Mrs. Isabelle forced herself to remain calm.
"Vecna, you say they embezzled household funds. Do you have any proof?"
I lifted my eyes to meet hers directly, smiling faintly.
"No. But if we want to look, it wouldn't be hard to find."
Hearing this, Lauren grew even more satisfied.
I had handled the matter decisively yet with restraint punishing people, not touching the account books. That was precisely what preserved face and prevented fractures within a great family.
At this point, she stepped in to mediate.
"You are the madam of this household. If you wish to deal with them, no one would dare say you're wrong. As for the accounts, let it be. They've served for many years. Give them a little dignity and send them away. Each may go their own path."
Those words gave the two stewards a way out while also protecting the reputations of both aunts.
After everyone withdrew, Lauren smiled softly and called to me.
"Come here. Sit with me for a while."
Only then did she truly see it: I wasn't just sharp-minded, but also knew restraint. That composure was nothing like a rustic girl, it was the bearing of someone long accustomed to navigating power.
She said gently, "You must have worked very hard these past few days."
Unlike before, when I had been seated far away, she ordered a small upholstered chair to be placed right beside her.
…
Joseph's birthday was approaching.
The table was covered with boxes of gifts, large and small. The deputy housekeeper was recording them one by one, smiling as she spoke.
"Mrs. Vecna, these are all birthday gifts for sir, sent by the various departments."
Joseph had always been reserved, never fond of noise or spectacle, nor of being the center of attention. He simply had no time for it, so there would be no birthday banquet. Still, even without a feast, the gifts had to be complete part ritual, part an expression of respect and affection for Joseph, the head of the family.
I opened the boxes one by one and immediately understood why people in the household said the Anderson sisters were famous for their handiwork.
Inside were lace-edged handkerchiefs sewn by hand, every stitch as even as morning dew so meticulous that the embroidery looked printed rather than stitched. Not a single stray thread could be found. The fabric was soft as cotton, so light to the touch it felt like a goose feather brushing against the skin. Beside them were wool scarves neatly arranged in Parisian knots, the color coordination so refined that one had to hold them up to the light to see the layers of hues hidden beneath the yarn. There were finely woven shirts with concealed seams, the cuffs hand-embroidered with the family crest. There was even a pair of handmade leather shoes so supple that one touch told you the maker had soaked the leather, aired it in the dew, and polished it for days on end.
Every item carried a faint trace of its maker's private chambers, dried flowers, a hint of birchwood, black tea, the unmistakable feeling of something "made by hand for someone dearly valued," enough to move any observer.
The only trouble was this: I had nothing worthy to give in return.
I couldn't not give a gift and giving something perfunctory would be even worse. At that thought, a dull ache began to throb at my temples.
The deputy housekeeper continued opening boxes, one after another. But when she reached a stack placed in the corner, she suddenly froze. Her gaze flicked toward me, then she hurriedly gathered those boxes and shoved them into the hands of a young maid.
"Quick, take these to the front courtyard and hand them to Steward Lingsley. These must have been sent by mistake!"
I couldn't help laughing.
"What's wrong? Is there something in them?"
The deputy housekeeper didn't dare hide anything from the lady of the house. She bowed and spoke honestly.
"Mrs. Vecna, please don't take it to heart… Those are gifts sent privately to sir by young ladies outside the household. There's a new style every year. There are so many that even the servants' rooms can't hold them all…"
Ah.
I immediately understood.
With Joseph's refined and handsome appearance, if he weren't the Anderson heir, he would likely have been fought over long ago as a 'golden son-in-law.' In this capital, he was among the most sought-after men, it was hardly surprising.
I only smiled faintly.
"It's fine. I don't mind."
Then I walked inside as if nothing were amiss.
The deputy housekeeper watched after me, her worry deepening.
She grew even more anxious. Though my husband and I had been married for a long time, we lived apart, with no affection to speak of, and matters of the marital bed were still far off. She feared I might be hurt.
…
Early the next morning, I sent Karen out to play and went with the deputy housekeeper to the main residence. Today was the day Joseph's eldest sister, Dorian Anderson, was returning to visit their mother, so Lauren had instructed me to come early.
As soon as I reached the pavilion used for flower viewing in the front courtyard, I saw the thirteenth young master, Dominic, wrapped in a fur cloak, standing on the stone steps, bored and letting the wind blow over him.
"Dominic, why aren't you inside?"
When he saw me, his face brightened at once. He hurriedly lifted the silk curtains fluttering around the pavilion to invite me in, then dismissed his nanny to a distance.
Once no one else was around, he lowered his voice.
"Sister-in-law Vecna… has Second Brother been making things difficult for you?"
I smiled wryly.
"I've only been given the cold shoulder these past few days. He hasn't returned to my room recently."
Dominic immediately looked guilty.
"It's because of me that you were dragged into this."
"It's not your fault," I waved it off. "I deceived you first. If there's blame, it's on me."
I had never been one to shift blame.
"And you? How did Eldest Brother punish you?"
The boy smiled bitterly and pointed up at the beams.
"Made to hang my head and read, copying texts for days on end."
My eyes widened.
"Well… it really is the scene of a long-suffering sister-in-law and brother-in-law."
Before long, footsteps echoed in the corridor, mixed with a child's clear laughter. Someone had arrived.
I lifted the curtain to look out and, sure enough, saw Joseph escorting Dorian and Daniel through the flower gate.
Beside them was a little boy of about three, brimming with energy.
The moment he spotted Uncle Dominic, the child broke free from his father's hand and ran over.
"Uncle! Auntie!"
Dominic saluted from afar, then took the steps two at a time, bending down to scoop the child into his arms.
"Andy is such a good boy, he's grown heavier again!"