The Elegant Sea of Savagery

Chapter 1

Prologue: A Strange Relationship

“Eat up, Irina.”

A young man and woman were sitting across from each other, having breakfast. The count was a gorgeous man whose low voice was smooth as butter, without a single trace of morning hoarseness despite the early hour. But he sporadically failed to conceal his want for the woman before him, and his dark, obsessive gaze trailed over her slender wrists, her thin shoulders, and her wavy locks of hair.

“What are your plans for today?” Ileanor asked politely, masking his lust once again.

Irina paused to think, then replied, “I think I might take up gardening. Then, if I have time after laundry, maybe I’ll do something else.”

Irina Nordiak was the eldest daughter of a ruined aristocratic family, and greatly indebted to the man in front of her. It was entirely the former Marquess Nordiak’s fault that her family, once a prominent household, had collapsed. Or to be more exact, it was his poor business acumen in this new era that was to blame. Marquess Nordiak had been too bold and daring for his own good, and after several failed investments, he’d found himself drowning in debt even after selling off his aristocratic title and territory.

It was Count Ileanor Schuberg who’d settled the marquess’s debts and purchased his remaining entitlements. He was the owner of Schuberg Guild, one of the wealthiest organizations in Kisen, as well as Irina’s classmate from the academy.

“Irina,” he called tenderly, as though addressing a lover.

“What?” she replied, looking up apathetically. Actually, she seemed a little uncomfortable.

Gazing into her clear, golden eyes, Ileanor brightly said, “The sun is strong during the day. Be careful not to overexert yourself. Ask the housekeeper for a wide-brimmed hat.”

“I will.”

Presently entrusted to the count’s household, Irina was receiving the wages of a maid and slowly repaying her debt. But this was just a front to hide their relationship behind a mask of normalcy. No head of house would pay so much attention to a mere maid. No creditor would be so amicable to his debtor. Besides, even if Irina worked for the rest of her life, her measly wages would be nowhere near enough to repay everything.

The biggest entitlement that Ileanor had purchased was to none other than Irina Nordiak. He didn’t abuse his authority like a tyrant, but from time to time, he felt a dark and deep pleasure at the knowledge of his power over her.

This was Ileanor Schuberg’s true character. He could act like a friendly gentleman all he wanted, but that didn’t hide his cold and sadistic nature. Everyone—even Irina—knew this about him, but he still pretended to behave like a normal, affectionate man whenever he was around Irina.

This was all an act, of course.

But once he kept this up for about seven years, one might begin to think it was his actual personality. In fact, even the more experienced servants at House Schuberg were occasionally taken aback to see this side of their master.

“If you’re gardening, doesn’t that mean you’ll need to use tools like shears and saws?” Ileanor suddenly asked, his brow slightly furrowed. He looked like he was either smiling, or fighting back a smile.

Puzzled, Irina replied, “I suppose so. But why?”

“I’m just worried that you might cut off someone’s hand or neck instead of a tree.”

“Uh...”

Irina hung her head in shame, having nothing to say to that. It might sound like a joke, but he was actually being serious. Still, it was a miracle she always made it out unscathed somehow. And for this the servants of House Schuberg were grateful.

“Don’t start anything too dangerous,” Ileanor added.

Knowing she’d caused too much trouble up until now, Irina made a dejected face, then changed the subject.

“I can take care of myself. By the way, Ileanor...”

“Yes, what is it?”

“Um.”

She looked like she had something to say. Ileanor put down his fork and knife, looking politely curious. What came out of Irina’s mouth next was something no one had expected.

“I’m thinking of marrying Ludwig.”

A terrible silence fell upon the dining table. A few guild members who’d been waiting a few paces away shuddered as though the temperature had dropped several degrees.

Oblivious to everyone’s fluster, Irina placidly continued, “I’ll make sure it won’t affect my work.”

For a while, Ileanor remained silent. Then his lips slowly began to curve upward. It was an elegant and graceful smile, but the servants who were watching all felt chills at the sight, for they knew that their master would never smile in a situation like this. His smile was courteous and dignified, but it failed to reach his eyes, which were unbelievably cold.

Maintaining this icy smile, he slowly said, “What the hell... did you just say?”

“Excuse me?” Irina asked in surprise.

Ileanor’s expression remained unchanging. Sparks of rage seemed to fly from his dark blue eyes. Irina frowned. She had never heard him speak so coarsely before. Eventually, she, too, felt angry heat rising in her own cheeks.

“My lord.”

It was a young butler who spoke up on behalf of all the frightened staff. Everyone here knew about Irina’s short temper and their master’s obsession over her. Neither of them had normal personalities. Irina needed to be stopped before she might fling her plate of food at the count’s head, or break the window and jump out—before the bridges could be burned.

Ileanor let out a short sigh, still smiling coolly. His expression was still composed, though it betrayed his real emotions more than before.

“You must be mistaken,” he said. “You did not come here to work for money. This is not a regular type of employment. You cannot do whatever you please.”

He spoke as respectfully as ever, but he failed to keep the cold fury out of his voice. Staring back at Irina’s stony face, he summarized what had happened between them months ago.

“House Schuberg took over all of Marquess Nordiak’s debts, some of which have been settled. And when that goddamn loan shark was about to sell you off on that ship heading who knows where, I was the one who repaid that debt and acquired the entitlement to you.”

That’s when your relationship with Ludwig ended. Yet all you do is accept my goodwill without granting me the slightest bit of opportunity.

Ileanor’s eyes were blazing now. Everything he’d just said was undeniable fact. But Irina felt a strong repulsion toward the way he’d said it. Ileanor didn’t look like he was finished. He wanted to make things absolutely clear, to remind her that she only had one choice, that there was no room for any alternatives.

Look closely. You’re standing at a dead end. He rose to his feet and approached Irina, his strides slow and graceful as always. Then he stopped in front of her and stretched out his hand, his fingers tender and affectionate as they caressed Irina’s face...

“Do I need to remind you again? I own all the rights to you.”

His words, however, were anything but.

“So you’re not allowed to marry any other bastard but me.”

“Son of a b*tch,” Irina growled, her cheeks flushed with rage.

She had tried to sit and listen through it, but he’d crossed the line. The tension was seconds away from exploding, and everyone else was watching anxiously. Only Ileanor regarded her defiant expression with utter calm. By the time the icy glare in his eyes gradually warmed into a smolder, he said the words he’d been holding off for ages.

“I shall visit you in your room tonight. Don’t lock the door.”

His tone clearly indicated something sexual. After he left the room, Irina sat there for a long while, huffing in anger, then hurled her glass of water at the door with all her might.

It shattered noisily, leaving nothing but stains on the spot where he’d last been standing.

* * *

It was nearly midnight by the time Ileanor came to Irina’s bedroom. He was dressed lightly, having bathed in his own room, but Irina was still in the same outfit she’d been wearing this morning.

She was lost in her own thoughts when she noticed him leaning on her doorframe. She stared at him unhappily, looking like she had something to say. Ileanor wordlessly watched her from a distance.

“I didn’t tell you to come in yet,” Irina said.

The words felt meaningless the moment they left her lips. Her petulant expression almost made her look like a child, and Ileanor couldn’t help but chuckle. The whole world had changed, but only Irina seemed to be the exact same person she was all those years ago.

He slowly strode forward and sat next to her, looking completely at ease. His skin gave off the scent of fresh soap. Slowly and kindly, he addressed her accusation.

“This is House Schuberg. And I am Count Schuberg. There isn’t a single room I cannot enter as the head of house.”

Irina mumbled something unintelligible under her breath. Judging by the shape of her lips, it was probably a string of profanities. Even this was so like her that Ileanor had to smile again. When his long white fingers landed on Irina’s red hair, she pulled back a little. Pretending not to notice, he tucked her hair behind her ear.

Was it because of his pretty face? Even a simple gesture like this seemed indecent in Irina’s eyes.

“Ugh, you pretty piece of trash,” she said, calling him by his nickname.

What to do with you?

She shook her head exasperatedly, but Ileanor merely smiled back at her. After glaring at him for a good long while, Irina finally let out a heavy sigh. Her eyes were suddenly serious and grave, hard with resolution.

“I need to tell you something, Ileanor.”

Ileanor’s warm, smiling eyes gleamed sharply as their gazes collided in midair.