Lora of Two Worlds

Lora waited until Laney, Lionel, and the maids were led out. Then she entered the study:

”Father, don’t panic. Margaret used to help Mother with the accounts. Let her lead a team to inventory the storehouse. List everything missing. Mother’s jewels are in a register, list those too. And have the prefecture issue certified copies of all property deeds. For safety.”

The Count nodded, exhausted: ”Margaret, take the requisition token. Do as the lady says. Aziz, go to the prefecture again. Get the deed copies. Press them to send men to hunt.”

”Aziz, wait.” Lora stopped him. ”Father, I just asked. Mother always used her personal seal for household business. Is the seal still here? If not, we must notify the prefecture. From today, any document bearing that seal is invalid.”

”We checked. The seal is with Weston Gray.” Alvin answered for his father, then comforted him:

”Father, we’ve all grown. Look at our sister, handling things methodically. Go rest. The outer yard, I’ll manage. The inner household, sister will manage. It’s not the worst.”

”He’s right, Father. We’ll all help Alvin. You didn’t eat breakfast. Have lunch brought to your room. Eat and rest.” Roland helped the Count up from his chair.

The Count’s father had been a retainer to a marcher duke. The Count had earned everything with blood and sweat, gradually restoring the Odenheim name’s old luster.

The family’s income was simple. Since the late King’s reign, aside from suppression campaigns, there’d been little war. No merit rewards. Their main income: the Countess, who loved buying land and houses, had built up five estates.

None of them were extravagant. Slowly, they’d accumulated gold ingots. Now, the Countess had been gone days. And the wealth had vanished. How could the Count not be sick at heart?

Worse, how would he face his wife? As Alvin escorted the Count out, Denton Quinn returned. But behind him, no Weston Gray.

”General, my lords, I visited every farm. Weston Gray hasn’t been to any of them. He went missing the day after the Countess left Lohenheim!” ”Weston Gray... missing? Send men to find him! Could Susannah and Weston Gray ” The Count nearly spat blood.

”No, Father. Susannah only left the night before last. Weston Gray’s been gone for days. Go eat. I’ll lead the search myself.” ”Alvin, Weston Gray’s hometown is Anwell. Go to Ashford! Bring him back!”

Watching their father being helped away by Alvin and Denton Quinn, Roland and Lora exchanged looks. ”Was Susannah covering for Weston Gray? She managed the household for Mother. The storehouse theft, if she’d said nothing, no one would’ve known.”

”Possible.” Lora nodded. ”Or they acted independently. Or used each other. But it must have been brewing before Mother left. After she left, they could take the jewelry and gain more escape time.”

Two key-holders missing. And the Countess’s jewels gone.

The General’s household, robbed by its own steward and the Count’s maid-mistress. The story would soon become: the Countess was jealous, the Count feared his wife, the mistress rebelled and eloped with the steward.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to NovelPhoenix for the genuine story.

No suspects caught, any explanation was an excuse. Alvin ordered the Count’s attendants to keep silent. The gossip couldn’t be allowed to spread.

Lora sat in the storehouse anteroom, reviewing the ledgers and inventory lists Margaret had compiled. She learned: Mother had two hobbies. When money accumulated, convert to gold. When a good estate came up, trade gold for land.

So the most valuable thing in the storehouse, easiest to carry, was gold ingots.

”Margaret, this is like cutting flesh. So much gold gone... If I’d known, I’d have borrowed from Mother earlier...”

Only Margaret was present. Lora let herself sigh. Weston Gray, clearly no simpleton. With this fortune, why go back to Anwell?

Hide somewhere for two years. Live well anywhere.

”Who wouldn’t be sick over this? But the farms are intact. I’ll buy everything on your list today. Once your hygiene products are ready, sell them to Hugo. That’s money, isn’t it?”

Margaret hadn’t felt the weight of money before. Now, it felt like a lifeline.

Speaking of Hugo, Lucy came to announce: Hugo had arrived. Wanted to see the lady.

Lora stepped out of the storehouse. A familiar chubby figure waited in the garden pavilion.

”My dear sister, how you suffer. A fresh young lady, surrounded by scrap metal and broken locks...”

”Cousin, are you here to gloat?”

Hugo’s eyes crinkled: ”Not at all. I’m here to bring coal in the snow.”

He produced a small booklet, like a court memorial. He opened it. Lora’s name was on it. Below, months three through six. Monthly surplus. Her share of the profits.

The total...

”One thousand six hundred purses!” Lora’s eyes went wide. The tarocchi tiles themselves hadn’t earned much, but the ”Sparrow Club” membership fees at the wine house had piled up.

”It was a new game. Players wanted strong opponents. So half of Lohenheim’s wealthy young lords became Sparrow Club members. We offered a discount for annual payment, nearly everyone paid yearly.”

Hugo was sincerely admiring: ”Dear sister, what else do you have to sell? I’ll take it all.”

So, the first batch of annual dues. No wonder the sum was so large. Lora smiled wryly:

”I used to think these little ventures were beneath me. Now they’re my emergency fund.”

”Hey, disasters happen to everyone. Your brother is here with coal in the snow. Your sixteen hundred purses, I’ll honor them whenever you need.”

Lora’s mood lifted. There was always a way.

”Thank you, truly. But the farms will deliver grain and silk soon. And my brothers gave me their private funds. We’re a small household, we’ll manage.

Your money... how about helping me find a shop in the South Market? I want to open a restaurant. Can you do that?”

”Done! Easy. I’ll ask around right away.” Hugo was about to leave, then paused:

”Dear sister, there’s something I shouldn’t say...”

”Say it.”

He frowned: ”I don’t have proof. Just something I heard at the tarocchi table. Young Jason, the eighteenth, mentioned someone borrowed from a moneylender. Used a farm deed as collateral. A farm beyond Green Willow Ridge.”

Lora’s mind exploded.

Green Willow Ridge, that was where the Odenheim farms were.

That bastard used the Countess’s seal and the stolen deeds to pawn the land, no transfer of ownership needed at the prefecture. Just a dead pledge. Money up front. If the pledge expired, the land became the lender’s.

Sold cheap, and untraceable until the family checked.

The crown protected noble land titles rigorously. As long as deed, document, seal, and receipt were all in order, even the General couldn’t simply march in and take the land back.

”Dear sister ”

Hugo hadn’t finished his comfort. Lora was already running, skirts hiked, for her father’s study.

The eleven deed copies from the prefecture: two farms, two forests, the Countess’s dowry. Five more farms, the Countess had bought them for the children. Roughly equal in size.

Each farm held fifty to eighty tenant families. Two to three hundred people: farming, raising livestock, weaving, smithing.

They fed themselves, and supplied the Odenheim house.

Plus two residences: one in Lohenheim (where the Horn siblings now lived), one in Augustburg (where the Countess and Brendan and Carl were staying).

”I’ve sent men to check. Felix is helping too. The moneylenders all know each other. If they accepted Odenheim land knowing whose it was, it’s the usual suspects.” Roland was near collapse too.

With Mother and Grandmother managing things, the brothers had never involved themselves in household finances. The Count had never interfered with the inner household.