My Arranged Marriage with the Last Wolf King

06. The Enigma of the Past

Emily was perplexed by the unexpected question from the master of the mansion. "Is talking to someone on the way there not allowed?" she wondered as she recalled the strange conversation she had with the man who sat next to her, a conversation as intriguing as the mysterious atmosphere surrounding her.

"The strangest thing is..." Emily began to reflect in her mind, "that man knew my name," she told herself, though she decided not to mention anything, assuming it was merely an unsettling coincidence.

Emily was perplexed by the unexpected question from the master of the mansion. "Is talking to someone on the way there not allowed?" she wondered as she recalled the strange conversation she had with the man who sat next to her, a conversation as intriguing as the mysterious atmosphere surrounding her."The strangest thing is..." Emily began to reflect in her mind, "that man knew my name," she told herself, though she decided not to mention anything, assuming it was merely an unsettling coincidence.

Hours earlier, on the train to Wolfsbone Mansion:

"Excuse me, Miss, could you tell me the time?" asked the man who sat next to her, leaving Emily startled."Oh!" she exclaimed, nervous, as she wasn't accustomed to conversing much with men. The fact that this stranger spoke to her kindly and was also young and attractive made her blush. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered, "I don't have a watch with me, but it must be noon. I got off the ship at six in the morning; I remember they announced the time as we disembarked. Since then, I've been very busy, so I'm sure it's already past noon."

The man removed his hat, allowing Emily to see him more clearly. He had brown hair, bluish eyes, and appeared to be in his twenties. He was clean-shaven, and what caught Emily's attention the most was a mole near his upper lip. The young woman blushed upon realizing she had noticed that detail and had even directed her gaze to his lips."So, you're American?" asked her unexpected seatmate."Yes," Emily replied, unable to interpret the expression on the man's face at that moment.

"I'm American. Welcome to London," said the man, smiling as he looked at her intently. "And where are you headed?"Emily felt a lump in her throat again."I'm going to Wolfsbone Mansion for a job interview," Emily responded, observing how the man's expression changed slightly. It seemed as if he had suddenly caught a whiff of something unpleasant and was doing his best to hide his disgust. Emily noticed his reaction despite his efforts to conceal it.

"What's wrong? You look like something's bothering you," she asked, frowning.

"It's nothing," the stranger quickly replied, putting on his top hat. "The train won't drop you right in front of the mansion. You'll have to walk quite a bit to reach it. But how do you plan to enter if you don't have an invitation?" he asked with a tone that suggested he knew something she was still unaware of.

"An invitation?" Emily questioned with doubt. "Well... I have the newspaper announcement with the interview information..." she replied, pulling the newspaper clipping from her dress."

"Newspaper announcement?" the gentleman asked, showing confusion on his face.Emily had torn out the notice and kept it handy. She quickly unfolded it and handed it to the man, who read it swiftly and then let out a laugh that struck Emily as odd, just like his entire appearance and presence."I see; this is your invitation," he said, looking at the young woman one last time as he returned the newspaper clipping to her.

"Well, since you don't have a watch to know the time, I'll return to my seat. It was a pleasure talking to you, Emily."

"The pleasure was all mine..." Emily replied, watching as the man stood up without saying anything more.Emily blinked, finding it strange that an elegant and attractive man didn't carry a watch with him. But then she felt a shiver run down her spine as she realized something.

"I never mentioned my name!" she exclaimed, turning to look for him, but she didn't see him anywhere. A chill of fear ran through her, but she tried to convince herself that perhaps that gentleman had moved to another connected carriage and maybe... had seen her name somewhere.

Present time:

Mr. Campbell was leading Emily to the kitchen as they walked together through the corridors of the imposing mansion. With each step, their muted shoes echoed on the polished wooden floor while the afternoon light filtered through tall stained-glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the tapestry-covered walls whose designs seemed hand-embroidered. The elegant carvings on the door frames revealed the skill of craftsmen from past eras, evoking a bygone beauty.

"Everything here is so luxurious; it seems like a palace rather than a mansion..." thought Emily as she followed Campbell, still believing he was the owner of that small palace.The aroma of scented candles placed in metal candelabras adorning the hallway mingled with the soft scent of old wood, flooding the air and immersing Emily in a strange sense of nostalgia. As she advanced, her eyes lingered on the paintings that decorated the walls—silent witnesses to the history of the Wolfsbone family.Oil-painted portraits with gilded and weathered frames displayed ancestors with haughty looks and luxurious attire, hinting at the opulence that had reigned within those walls. Through centuries past, each of those canvases revealed inherited traits, familiar gestures, and legacies of generations. In one meticulously crafted painting showed a family: three boys and a girl along with their father and mother. One of the boys—blond and with a sweet demeanor—reminded her a bit of the bitter man who had insulted her as soon as he saw her. Emily stopped to contemplate it.

"This family in the portrait," Emily pointed to it—"the blond boy looks like your son... is he your ancestor?"Campbell turned to see Emily paused at the portrait of what remained of the Wolfsbone family.

"My son?" Campbell asked, observing how Emily's delicate finger pointed to a child version of his master Alexander.

"Yes; isn't he your son?"Campbell couldn't help but let out a laugh that he quickly controlled.

"Mr. Alexander is not my son, Miss Smith. I am the butler of the Wolfsbone family."Emily squinted as she looked Campbell up and down. He was too handsome and elegant to be merely a servant. This led her to quickly think:

'Perhaps being attractive is a requirement for being a servant... The other young man was also attractive; if that's true..." Emily swallowed and immediately said: "I'm sure the food will be delicious, Mr. Butler! I'm sure Mr. Alexander will love it," Emily exclaimed feeling she had to compensate as she believed she lacked beauty.Mr. Campbell observed her closely.

The scent of those individuals no longer clung to her natural essence; yet just understanding that she had been near them did not please him at all. It meant that if they were around they were plotting a way back inside."My lord must marry as soon as possible; time is running out," Campbell thought as he continued toward the kitchen. "I hope you have good seasoning as you said."

"Yes, Mr. Butler.—"

"Just call me Campbell."

"Campbell," Emily replied realizing it was his last name but refrained from asking for his first name out of respect for his desire for formality.During this time Emily continued exploring; each hallway seemed to harbor secrets around every corner. The finely carved display cases showcased valuable porcelain and ceramic objects—testaments to sophisticated and refined living. The Persian rugs worn by footsteps throughout all who lived in this mansion still displayed intricate patterns and meticulous details.As she walked through that timeless mansion Emily could feel history whispering around her touching every fiber of her being. It felt as though echoes of former inhabitants still reverberated through corridors reminding her that she was immersed in legacy—a legacy whose true significance she did not yet comprehend.

. Meanwhile in his room Alexander sat in a plush armchair contemplating a gold locket that when opened revealed four photographs. That pendant was delicately crafted but now showed signs of time tarnished as though its former splendor had faded. Alexander looked at black-and-white images with melancholy—as faded and blurry as rest of locket—lost in thoughts until suddenly he heard a knock on his door; without even turning he knew by scent it was Thomas one of his servants.

"Come in," said Alexander in a serious tone without taking his eyes off locket still in his hands.Thomas entered cautiously staying near door showing reverent attitude.

"Your Majesty I checked luggage belonging American young lady; Campbell asked me do this through our connection."

"And what did you find in her luggage?" asked Alexander without turning making clear he was more interested contents than departure former employee.

"There was nothing special Your Highness just women's things," replied Thomas feeling embarrassed recalling seeing intimate feminine garments.

"Then she's not a spy for those damned hunters.

"No Your Highness she's not."

Alexander paused in silence for moment before speaking:

"Does Campbell want hire her as servant?"

"Yes Your Majesty."