To The Traitor in My Bed - Chapter 35
Chapter 18. The City of the Sulavs
Deirdre, hailing from Aspen, occasionally forgot that the ethnic makeup of Rochepolie was quite different from Aspen or Swinton.
The morning after the ball, when two military police arrived at the house early, Deirdre was, of course, surprised. However, the military police weren’t here because they had any allegations against Count Fairchild. They were bringing a Luskan man with them.
“Lord Rochepolie, Lady Rochepolie, this man seems to have stolen one of your sleighs. But he keeps denying it.”
Deirdre quickly grasped the situation.
Fairchild’s sleighs were expensive and produced in limited quantities, so only the nobility or the wealthy could afford one. It seemed that someone who wasn’t a noble or wealthy had been caught with one, and that’s why they’d brought him in.
Deirdre also had an inkling of where the Luskan man was from and where the sleigh came from.
Wigmore.
Rochepolie, located in the northernmost part of the kingdom, bordered Luska to the north. Before crossing the border into Luska, one would pass through the small town of Wigmore.
In Wigmore, descendants of the Sulav people, who had been exiled from Luska long ago, lived. The man the military police had brought was one of those Sulav.
Since being accepted into Antwerp, the Sulav had primarily settled in Rochepolie and Landyke, forming their own unique culture. The Sulav men were known for their bravery and strength in the cold, so they were often hired by the border patrol, which suffered from a chronic labor shortage.
For several reasons, the people of Wigmore were under the control of the border patrol, not the regular police. So, the military police bringing in a Luskan was clearly an overstep of their authority. From the way the young military police looked at her, Deirdre quickly guessed their intentions. They were the ones who had been invited to the ball the night before.
“How shocking it must have been to see a thief wandering around your estate. Don’t worry now, Lady Rochepolie, we’ve caught the thief.”
One military police said boastfully.
Deirdre held back a sigh. She knew the sleigh hadn’t been stolen by the Luskan man; it had been left in Wigmore by Darnell and the foreign-speaking man who had traveled there.
Frederick, who had been listening quietly, spoke up.
“You’ve done a great job. But that man is not a thief. I gave that sleigh as a gift to the town of Wigmore.”
The military police’ faces were stunned.
Frederick continued.
“Since the time when Count Rochepolie was the Margrave, Rochepolie and Wigmore have had a close relationship…. So, let this unfortunate man go, and you two can go about your business.”
The military police exchanged looks. It was well known that Lord Rochepolie was a wealthy man, and he liked to show off his wealth by spending money around. Gifting a luxury sleigh to Wigmore was just the sort of thing the Count would do.
“Well, if that’s the case…”
One military police cleared his throat and looked at Deirdre.
“Since we’re here, may we have a cup of tea before we leave?”
“Of course.”
Frederick replied coolly.
Deirdre had no intention of sitting down for tea with an uninvited guest, so she delegated the task to her husband. As Lady Rochepolie, there were other guests she needed to attend to.
She led the Luskan man to the drawing room by the fireplace instead of the hall.
“You must have been startled by the military police. But feel free to stay comfortably until they leave.”
In the past, when the nobility of Antwerp still had private military police, the Sulav had formed an unusual alliance with Margrave Rochepolie before the mutual non-aggression pact between Luska and Antwerp.
Luska had long been embroiled in internal strife due to religious and ethnic issues. The Sulav, persecuted for centuries in Luska, had been welcomed by Margrave Rochepolie. By taking them in, the Margrave could secure the border cheaply without spilling the blood of his own people.
Wigmore was a fortress built by one of the Fairchild ancestors on the border, and it was large enough to shelter the runaway Sulavs. Even after the non-aggression pact was established over a hundred years ago, the Sulav in Wigmore remained.
Known for their devoutness, the Antwerp government had tacitly agreed to leave them be. Since then, northern nobles had considered Wigmore a kind of autonomous region, though administratively part of Rochepolie.
The Sulav man was a young man, maybe around twenty, with a sturdy build despite his short stature. His bear-fur coat and hat were striking.
He bowed deeply.
“Thank you, Lady Rochepolie.”
“Have the people who took the sleigh left Wigmore?”
The man didn’t answer, seeming a bit tight-lipped. Deirdre changed her approach.
“People from Wigmore don’t usually come this far. Were you here to return the sleigh?”
The man replied with a simple, “No.”
Deirdre felt a little awkward, wondering if her question made it sound like she was asking for the sleigh back.
“If you haven’t eaten yet, would you like to join us for a meal?”
“Thank you, Lady Rochepolie.”
Deirdre spent a tedious time waiting for Frederick, who was dealing with the military police. When Frederick returned, the Sulav man finally got to the point.
“Lord Rochepolie, Lady Rochepolie, Wigmore needs your help. I’ve come to ask for it.”
* * *
Frederick immediately had two sleighs prepared.
He had hoped his wife would stay at the mansion, but Deirdre didn’t listen. The Sulav man even seemed to want the Countess to come, so Frederick reluctantly followed her wishes.
It was a long distance from Rochepolie to Wigmore. By carriage, it would take a full twelve hours, and even with the fastest dogs pulling the sleigh, it would take nearly eight hours. Kingsley quickly packed the necessary supplies for the long journey.
“If the snowstorm gets worse on the way, we’ll turn back,” he said while adjusting Deirdre’s cloak.
No matter how well-made the sleighs were, they were still narrower and less comfortable than a carriage.
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