industrial lord

Chapter 807 The Daughter Is About to Take Action
The Pritz family mansion is one of the largest in the city, with a garden as big as Pavel's house.

At dinner time, the long table in the restaurant was covered with a blue lace tablecloth imported from the Duchy of Wesen. The glow of the magic lamp, shaped like a silver candlestick, illuminated the exquisite porcelain. The aroma of the dishes mingled with the fresh scent of burning birch wood in the fireplace.

Polina sat in the middle of the long table, opposite her eldest brother and sister-in-law and two younger brothers under the age of ten. To her right were her second sister and nephews who had returned home that morning. Her brother-in-law was relegated to the very end of the left side, supposedly because he hadn't been able to answer his father-in-law and teacher, Count Pritz,'s questions in the afternoon.

At the head of the table sat Count Pritz, nearing fifty, his silver-grey hair meticulously combed. Mrs. Pritz sat at the other end, dignified and composed. The two were chatting and laughing with their grandchildren.

The servants served the dishes silently: roasted venison, cream of mushroom soup, stewed venison with root vegetables, and bubbling apple cider vinegar.

The clinking of cutlery against the porcelain plates created a pleasant, relaxed atmosphere as the family chatted. Mrs. Pritz occasionally tried to sell her homemade apple cider vinegar to her second daughter.

However, as the amount of venison on the plate decreased, Polina gradually noticed something was wrong.

She looked up and met her mother's ambiguous gaze, which lingered on her face for a moment before casually looking away.

As she scooped up a spoonful of soup, she noticed her father glance at her seemingly casually, a fleeting, enigmatic look in his eyes.

And her older brother, when chatting with his second sister's husband, would occasionally glance at her.

The feeling of being silently observed by the group made Polina extremely uncomfortable.

She subconsciously adjusted her posture, checked her clothes and jewelry to make sure they were neat, and even wondered if there was food on her face.

However, everything seemed normal. This normalcy only exacerbated her anxiety—her family's unusual attention clearly had another reason.

Dinner finally ended in a seemingly calm but subtly complex atmosphere, and the family members dispersed.

Inside the study, Count Pritz sat behind a large oak desk, several freshly opened letters spread out on it.

Mrs. Pritz walked in carrying a glass of soda with lemon juice, pulled up a chair, and sat down opposite her.

“You must speak with Polina,” Mrs. Pritz said. “You’re probably aware of what’s been going on these past few days.”

Count Pritz looked up from the letter, his eyes narrowing slightly behind his silver-rimmed glasses. He said with a half-smile, "What happened? Did Polina get into trouble?"

Did she hit someone with her car?

“It’s more troublesome than a car accident.” Mrs. Pritz took a sip of her lemonade. “Now the whole of Boyheim knows. During the day, our daughter runs to the empty Pavel’s house, and at night Sir Olga invites Pavel to all sorts of banquets and balls.”

"I presume you already know."

Count Pritz put down the letter in his hand, looked up at his wife, and said, "Pavel is a good boy."

“He is talented and enterprising, but sometimes a bit indecisive. He improved rapidly after studying at Wesson Military Academy for a period of time.”

"By the way, he also won a prize in a competition at the military academy."

“Such a good man, in Boyheim, besides me, he is the only one.”

Mrs. Pritz habitually rolled her eyes at him.

"Don't just focus on the children's antics," she said. "I'm afraid the story this time is a little different from what you expect."

Count Pritz's expression turned slightly serious as he asked, "What's different? Tell me."

Mrs. Pritz finished the rest of her lemonade in one gulp, put down the glass, and said, "Polina has been quietly packing her bags these past two days."

“Don’t look at me like that, I didn’t order it.” “Her favorite clothes and jewelry are disappearing little by little from her bedroom and all going into her car.”

Count Pritzker nodded and said with a smile, "Perhaps she's going on vacation?"

It was perfectly natural for nobles to travel, and the Pritzkers bought their daughter a car with this in mind.

However, the butler misunderstood the instruction to "buy the most expensive car" and ended up buying a large truck.

Fortunately, Wesenberg has many skilled craftsmen who convert trucks into luxury motorhomes, some even with a small fireplace.

The Pritzker family didn't know much about cars, but the butler convinced them that such a car was perfect for ladies to go on picnics in the countryside, rather than for dangerous racing.

Everyone wants to show off their new car, so Count Pritzker thought it was perfectly reasonable for his daughter and her friends to go for a few days to test drive and have fun in the countryside.

Mrs. Pritz shook her head and said, "And according to the latest rumors today, Pavel will return to his territory tomorrow for the Winter Solstice."

"Take these two messages together, do you understand what this means?"

Count Pritz slowly leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the ceiling—a habitual gesture that usually indicated he was deep in thought.

The firelight from the fireplace danced on his face, outlining the deep contours etched by time and the serene aura befitting a great magician.

“Pavel…” he repeated the name softly, as if searching for relevant fragments in his memory, “Sigh, there’s not much money at home.”

Pavel's territory was not large to begin with, and his father's poor health cost a lot of money. He also spent a lot in Wessenburg, and his wallet was already empty after buying the motorcycle.

Count Pritzker quickly assessed his financial situation.

"Yes," Mrs. Pritz nodded. "What do you plan to do?"

Count Pritzker's lips curled slightly, and his tone became gentle yet firm as he said, "Our daughter is trying to strike first."

“It’s perfectly normal to act first,” Mrs. Pritz said with a smile, raising an eyebrow at her husband. “What do you plan to do?”

Count Pritz glanced at the clock on the wall and said, "It's still early. Let's wait until she's asleep."

Mrs. Pritz nodded.

At midnight, the Pritzker estate was engulfed in a sudden snowstorm.

Two furtive figures left the main building of the mansion and arrived at the newly built garage next to the carriage house.

The Count and Countess Pritz had the night watchman open the RV section at the back of the car.

The living area is at the front of the vehicle, the bedroom area in the middle has three storage beds on each side, and the kitchen and bathroom are at the rear.

The luggage was piled up in the living room. Count Pritz opened a leather trunk and threw in a heavy bag, making a metallic clanging sound.

Mrs. Pritz complained to him, "Who still uses traditional gold coins these days? Everyone uses dollar bills, they're light and easy to carry."

As she spoke, she put an oil paper package into the suitcase.

(End of this chapter)