CWMBR 110

Chapter 110

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***

Throughout his life, Ain had never once imagined himself exchanging vows with anyone.

Likewise, he had never imagined himself facing someone dressed in a pristine white gown.

Back then, he viewed weddings as a kind of formal ceremony. This feeling was amplified by the schedule waiting for him immediately after the ceremony. With no time to change into formal attire, he entered the venue in his everyday clothes and felt a slightly unexpected emotion at the more solemn atmosphere than he had anticipated. Even though the scale of the event was worlds apart from weddings in other families, the atmosphere permeating the venue was quite serious.

Ain wasn't usually one to get nervous. But in that moment, he found himself holding his breath without realizing it. Seeing Bridget beyond the veil, he simply couldn't manage a relaxed expression.

Bridget stood with a noticeably stiff face, showing none of the joy one might expect from a bride. He hadn't anticipated any particular look or expression from her to begin with, but she seemed more rigid than he had imagined.

The old Ain might have disapproved of such a stiff Bridget, or even rolled his eyes. Or perhaps he would have tried to placate her with a little affection, thinking he was at least keeping up appearances for the marriage.

In the end, Ain did nothing.

He couldn't lay a finger on her. Not only did he fail to grasp the fluttering sensation he felt in that moment, but he was too preoccupied with hiding it.

A sense of caution arose from the unclear emotion. Yet, he still twitched his fingers occasionally, overcome by the urge to lift that veil. Of course, he never acted on it, but in his mind, he had long since torn off the veil and tossed it to the floor.

It was that impulsive feeling that sometimes overwhelmed him when facing Bridget. An emotion that repeatedly stirred a sense of danger within him, a man who had never feared anything.

He defined this incomprehensible feeling as irrational, primal lust. She was his first woman, and now she would be his last.

Wasn't she the woman who had shaken him even when they were nothing to each other? Now that she had become his wife, Madame Wise, how much more would she confuse him?

"At least finishing this now is a way to wrap up the remaining memories nicely, isn't it?"

Gilum's voice snapped Ain's consciousness out of its reverie.

"I think you've done enough by now."

"Tell Sanna."

Ain spoke indifferently, pulling a cigarette from his breast pocket and lighting it.

"If you're planning to use Bridget as bait to go after Finn Emerson, I advise you to stop."

Gilum's expression stiffened.

"If Ain Wise, lacking in character, sabotages a painstaking investigation just because it displeases him, wouldn't that cause you considerable headaches?"

"Lord Wise."

"Since my wife seems to trust you quite a bit, don't make unnecessary displays."

Exhaling a cloud of smoke, Ain glanced briefly toward the interior of the building. What good would it do to follow her up now? Worried whether she even knew how to hire people properly, he abandoned his plan to watch from behind.

"If you came to provide protection, just do your job properly."

Gilum’s expression stiffened. He pressed his lips together, fell silent for a moment, then forced a smile and replied.

“Well then, since you’re here to serve as a servant, Lord Wise, you’d better attend to her needs properly.”

“Yeah.”

Gilum probably meant it to ruffle his feathers, but Ain didn't flinch at all. Still staring up at the building with a cigarette in his mouth, he muttered as if to himself.

"That's exactly what I'm going to do."

***

Wayna, who had been glancing back with a wary look, finally couldn't hold back and spoke up.

"He’s kind of... annoying."

At the end of Wayna's gaze stood Ain, wearing a calm expression. When he first stepped off the platform, he'd looked extremely reluctant, but now he stepped off the platform himself without being told. His manner was so natural, anyone watching would assume he'd been doing this for years.

He even went a step further: when entering buildings, he'd open the door a step ahead, and if Bridget tried to set down her handbag, he'd snatch it from her. As if he'd truly become her servant.

And to Wayna, his unexpectedly thorough attentiveness seemed downright irritating. Wayna had first learned of the Wise couple's story through the newspaper, and from that, she'd concluded Ain was a terrible husband. Seeing him now, performing such an incongruous servant role with that arrogant expression, just seemed disgusting.

"He's always been that way."

Bridget looked at Wayna with an apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry I caused you trouble right after you started working here."

"Oh, no. It is a bit bothersome, but it's fine. I'll just consider this minor annoyance the price of admission."

Wayna waved her hands emphatically, insisting there was absolutely no need for the Lady to apologize.

"When else would I get to see a sight like this?"

She was right. Where else would one see Ain serving others so obediently? It might only be for a few days, but it was undoubtedly a rare sight.

Bridget glanced back over her shoulder. Ever since they'd stopped by the private detective's office earlier, Ain had seemed off. Seeing him waiting side-by-side with Gilum in front of the building made Bridget wonder if they'd spoken, but they hadn't wasted much time at the detective's office, so it couldn't have been a long conversation. What could have happened in that short time to make him sink into such a mood?

"But there are quite a few media outlets here, more than I expected."

"Ah, yes. "

Bridget withdrew her gaze at Wayna's remark. Whatever Ain’s mood, it wasn't her concern.

Instead, Bridget surveyed the street they had arrived at. It was a street densely packed with media companies. While now numerous large and small media outlets occupied the space, in the past, the offices hadn't been this tightly clustered. Bridget pointed at one building.

"That's where the Glynford Regional Newspaper was first published. It's now a biweekly, but when it was popular, even a daily wasn't enough—they sometimes printed twice a day, morning and evening. People lined up to get it."

"Wow, really?"

Wayna listened intently to Bridget's words with a look of wonder. Seeing the other person's eyes light up in response made her feel unexpectedly pleased, so she continued her brief explanation.

"Yes. The media company next to it started out as a magazine publisher, but……………."

As they chatted and walked, their pace slowed. By the time they reached their destination, Bridget realized she’d been talking louder than she’d intended. Almost like giving a tour. She’d always enjoyed sharing random stories with others, and this time, she’d let herself get carried away.

Coming to her senses belatedly, she cleared her throat and turned her head.

"Anyway, there are all sorts of stories."

"You really know your way around here—must be from living here so long!"

"..."

Bridget gave an awkward smile and happened to meet Ain's gaze, who had been staring at her. He looked at her with an inscrutable expression, then suddenly approached.

Just as she thought he might speak, he passed Bridget and opened the door to the media company she had been about to enter. Holding the door open as if to invite her in, he narrowed his eyes at Bridget, who had halted awkwardly.

"Weren't you going in?"

"………………Yes."

Bridget clutched her handbag tightly and strode briskly past Ain.

This was the headquarters of 'Uncoat', a publication specializing in arts and culture. The antique building, brimming with the patina of time, seemed to boast of its long history.

Unlike other outlets that had fallen head over heels for Donna, Uncoat was the only media outlet maintaining an objective perspective, leading to several clashes with Ronan. Eventually, Ronan even banned Uncoat journalists from entering the Grand Theater. She heard things took a turn for the worse after that.

So it stood to reason that Ronan and Donna, and indeed the Grand Theater of Glynford, wouldn't hold particularly warm feelings for her.

A reporter walking out from inside spotted Bridget and stopped. Recognizing her face, the reporter's expression stiffened.

"Long time no see, reporter. I'm here to see the editor-in-chief of Uncoat."

Bridget smiled faintly.

***

An article appeared in Uncoat claiming that Donna Green, the actress beloved by the citizens of Glynford, had arbitrarily eliminated an unknown actor's role and slandered him to prevent him from receiving proper first-rate pay, ultimately driving him out.

That unknown actor, accused of stealing Donna Green's jewelry, was someone who had fled without securing even a minor role at the Glynford Grand Theater or any other theater. He protested his innocence, but when Donna confronted him accompanied by police, he couldn't withstand the pressure and left Glynford entirely.

Those privy to this minor scandal, which had spread through gossip, shook their heads, saying she was trying to pin a false accusation on him using the results of an investigation into a different matter.

The next day, a recording surfaced. It captured a conversation between Donna Green and an unknown actor during rehearsals. The recording contained Donna Green's full tirade of abusive language directed at the unknown actor.

While Donna Green's charm lay in her refreshingly candid speech, the exposed content was excessively insulting and crude. People were stunned, yet still didn't fully believe it.

Then the next day, Uncoat published an entire letter in which Donna Green had made an appointment with one of the senior officers at Glynford Police Headquarters. The letter bore Donna's signature and was accurately dated. It stated she wanted to expel that unknown actor from Glynford by any means necessary.

People were confused. Yet they still expressed skepticism, wondering if it wasn't just smear propaganda aimed at discrediting Donna.

Another day passed, and a new letter was published in full. It was similarly a letter from Donna arranging a meeting with the police chief. This time, the meeting was scheduled for very late at night. The letter specifically instructed her to arrive wearing the costume for the role.

The people of Glynford knew exactly what costume the letter referred to. It was the dazzling, revealing dress that had suited Donna so perfectly, drawing everyone's admiration.

This letter, clearly implying a certain atmosphere, left everyone speechless with shock. Some people strongly protested against Uncoat. There were accusations of biased, sensationalist tabloid journalism.

Regardless, Uncoat published new content. Beneath a photo of Donna Green wearing a dazzling diamond necklace, they printed the design and price of the necklace purchased by the police chief through his subordinate.

Gradually, people realized Uncoat intended to pursue the Donna Green story as a long-term investigative series.

Just as many people reacted against the blatant targeting, an equal number grew rapidly curious about the next installment.

Uncoat began selling like hotcakes.