Chapter 57

“Young master, may fortune favor your journey!”

“You can do this, young master! We shall keep vigil and await your triumphant return!”

Early the following morning, a somber crowd of servants gathered before the towering gates of Ravenwell Mansion. They had assembled in the biting dawn air to see Elwin off on his urgent trek to the capital.

Though they forced bright, encouraging smiles onto their faces to bolster their master’s spirits, dark, hollow shadows clung to their eyes. It was clear that not a single soul under the roof had slept a wink.

The grand legacy of the Ravenwell estate, steeped in centuries of proud history and noble tradition, now guttered like a fragile candle in a howling gale. Armed with the family head’s signet seal and the ancestral deed, Dwight held absolute, legal dominion over the entire earldom.

He could carve the ancient lands into a hundred vulgar plots and sell them off to the highest bidder. He could auction off the very mansion they stood in. In these modern, decadent times, even noble titles themselves had become vulgar commodities traded in backrooms.

To be sure, transactions of such magnitude required astronomical sums, meaning a buyer would not be found overnight. Any sensible investor would demand rigorous verification of Dwight’s identity before parting with their gold, meaning the estate would not vanish in an instant.

But common sense is a luxury we no longer possess, Elwin thought grimly. Too many unthinkable things have already come to pass. I must make haste.

In times of crisis, one had to prepare for the absolute worst, and the servants’ imaginations had already run wild with horrific possibilities. Many had spent the night thrashing in the grip of nightmares where some vulgar, arrogant stranger burst through the doors, claiming ownership of their lives and home. The lingering grief of the count’s passing had curdled into a sharp, terrifying panic.

Elwin had shared in that sleepless dread, and deep, dark circles now bruised the skin beneath his striking eyes. Toby scurried to the front of the carriage, fussing over Elwin’s traveling attire with desperate devotion.

“How is it that our young master looks so breathtaking even in the midst of calamity?” Toby fretted, adjusting Elwin’s collar. “The capital lies to the bitter north, where the frost bites deep. You must wrap your wool scarf tightly. Here, take your luggage.”

The trunk Toby dragged forward was so colossally heavy it looked more suited for a permanent relocation than a brief journey.

Elwin blinked in dismay. “Toby, what on earth is all this?”

“Why, the bare essentials, of course!” Toby insisted. “Several changes of fine suits, fresh undergarments, heavy gloves, silk handkerchiefs, emergency elixirs, traveling slippers, lavender perfume, and a selection of snacks. I also tucked in a formal double-breasted coat, just in case…”

Elwin opened his mouth to protest the absurd excess, but the steam whistle of the approaching train echoed in the distance, leaving no time to repack. Before he could speak, Leon stepped forward, effortlessly hoisting the massive trunk with a single, fluid motion.

“It all seems entirely indispensable to me,” Leon chuckled, offering Toby a reassuring wink. “I shall gladly carry it.”

The servants, who had grown incredibly fond of Leon over the past weeks, crowded around him with warm parting wishes, murmuring, “Please protect our young master,” and “Mind you return to us safely.” After returning their farewells with easy grace, Leon turned to Elwin, his eyes dancing.

“Shall we depart, then?”

Unlike Elwin, who felt entirely drained by the sleepless night, Leon’s face was bright and radiant. For the long journey ahead, he had exchanged his usual opulent attire for a simpler, tailored traveling suit that clung perfectly to his broad frame, lending him an air of rugged elegance.

“Yes,” Elwin murmured, clear his throat. “Let us go.”

The sudden, stark reality of embarking on an intimate journey alone with Leon washed over him. Desperate to conceal the heat rapidly climbing into his cheeks, Elwin hurried into the waiting carriage and offered an apologetic murmur.

“Because we had to secure passage so late, only second-class berths were available. You have volunteered so generously, yet I cannot even offer you proper accommodations.”

Leon merely shrugged, utterly untroubled despite the fact that a sapphire the size of a robin’s egg typically adorned his pocket watch chain.

“I am perfectly content,” Leon replied smoothly. “But tell me, Sir Elwin… have you ever ridden in second class before?”

“Well, no,” Elwin admitted, his voice softening. “To be perfectly frank, this is only the second time in my life I have ever boarded a train.”

Leon let out a soft, pitying chuckle, murmuring, “Oh, you poor dear.”

Bristling at the gentle mockery, Elwin puffed out his chest. “I assure you, I was not raised so delicately that I cannot handle a train ride. Second class will be perfectly comfortable. Toby has ridden it several times, and he insists it is virtually identical to first class.”

“Is that so?” Leon’s smile widened, rich with silent amusement. “Well, if Toby says so, it must be true.”

Sensing the tease, Elwin chose to remain silent, resolving to prove that he was far sturdier than Leon gave him credit for.

The bustling, chaotic energy of the platform and the bone-rattling roar of the locomotive posed no challenge to Elwin, who had steel his nerves the day before. Standing tall and proud, he boarded the passenger car with an air of noble dignity.

At a glance, the second-class carriage did bear a passing resemblance to the first-class compartments. It featured private, curtained booths separated by thin wooden partitions, with two bench seats facing one another.

However, Elwin’s aristocratic breeding immediately picked up on the stark drop in quality. The curtains were frayed and faded, the paint on the sliding doors was peeling, and the heavy, sulfurous stench of coal smoke hung thick in the air. He hesitated for a fleeting second before quietly taking his seat. The hard leather creaked beneath him, and a sharp, icy draft whistled through a gap in the window frame.

“Ahem… it is perfectly fine,” Elwin muttered, bracing himself.

Amused by Elwin’s valiant effort to appear unbothered, Leon hoisted their luggage onto the opposite seat. Because Toby’s packing was so monstrously vast, the two trunks completely monopolized the bench. Leon shrugged, turning back to the seat where Elwin sat.

“With our bags taking up the berth, it seems I must share your side. I shall take the aisle seat. My body runs quite warm.”

“Ah, but I… I should like to look out the window,” Elwin murmured, his eyes wide with childlike curiosity despite his trepidation.

Leon’s grin softened into something incredibly tender. “Then let us make an arrangement. Stand for a moment, if you please.”

As Elwin stood up, puzzled, Leon smoothly slid off his heavy woolen overcoat. He draped it carefully across the hard leather of Elwin’s seat and backrest, transforming it into a plush, cushioned throne. He then rolled up his heavy jacket and wedged it tightly into the window frame, completely blocking the icy draft.

Flustered, Elwin waved his hands in protest. “Mr. Leon, I cannot possibly sit on your fine coat!”

“Do not worry,” Leon chuckled, gently guiding him down. “I assure you, my coat is perfectly clean.”

“No, that is not what I meant—”

“If that is not the issue,” Leon murmured, his voice low and warm as he sat down beside him, “then sit.”