MCFPM 16

chapter 16

To properly explain the course of events, we must go back to that night when she sought advice from Eonian.

“…So? Want to at least hear me out?”

“…”

“Or do you want to just part ways once the trial’s over?”

Eonian’s gaze darkened. When he jerked his chin as if telling her to go on, Sherilotte crossed her arms.

“I want to raise my homeland into a place that can hold its head high. But… what should I do if I don’t know what to prioritize?”

“Prioritize?”

Sherilotte checked that no one was nearby and whispered.

“First of all… I think there’s a spy inside the castle.”

The reason she confided her suspicion to Eonian of all people was ironic—because he, an absolute outsider, was ironically the most trustworthy person around.

Eonian didn’t add a word. That silence meant he agreed. He gave a small nod before continuing.

“Why not start rooting them out right away? You’re already replacing people in the army. Might as well purge everyone while you’re at it—from servants to merchants.”

“…That’s the problem.”

Sherilotte shook her head.

“I want to lay the foundations of this land properly first. And this is something vital that can’t be delayed.”

“Hearing you say ‘foundations’… ah.”

Eonian trailed off, then smiled faintly.

“You mean agriculture.”

“Exactly. We need food.”

Of the three essentials of life—food, clothing, and shelter—the only one gradually being solved was “shelter.” The weather was warming, insulation had been supplied, and with further infrastructure expansion, housing would naturally improve.

‘But the most urgent—food—still isn’t solved.’

And now was spring. It was sowing season. If the crops she had imported through the academy weren’t planted immediately, this year’s harvest would be a disaster.

“Even with the weather warming, I don’t know how much yields will improve. That’s why I want to plant improved varieties right away…”

“Aha.”

Eonian snapped his fingers as if he understood.

“So you’re saying you don’t know whether to focus on rooting out spies or on agricultural reform.”

“…Yeah.”

“Hm.”

When Sherilotte admitted it, Eonian let out a nasal hum. After rolling his eyes thoughtfully, he asked her in return:

“What do you think is more important?”

“What? I asked you because I wanted your advice.”

“Still.”

Sherilotte groaned and rubbed her forehead.

Honestly, her head hurt, but the answer was agriculture.

“My opinion is agriculture.”

“Oh? Why?”

“Because the varieties I’m planning to plant yield more than native grains and are good for preventing famine. They grow well in colder climates and even in hard soil. The timing is perfect.”

“And?”

“…Even if we delay rooting out spies for a day or two, the territory won’t collapse.”

There was no need to rush purging traitors. Too much blood had already been shed. Showing the people corrupt officials being executed might reassure them once or twice, but if repeated, they’d only remember the Grand Duchy’s cruelty, not its dignity.

And with the manufacturing sector still uncertain, if agriculture also failed, the entire economy for the year would collapse.

“But if you don’t deal with the spies, you could be poisoned. How will you deal with that risk?”

“That’s where you come in.”

“What?”

“You don’t get it?”

Sherilotte asked as if it were obvious, pointing first at herself, then at Eonian.

“If I’m poisoned and on the verge of death, you’ll just save me.”

“You put our contract on hold, and yet you expect me to stay by your side? Do you even trust me?”

“…Enough.”

She nodded slightly.

“Because you’ve saved my life more than once.”

He had gotten weird after sabotaging the wedding, but she hadn’t forgotten how he’d grabbed her when she fell off the cliff, or saved her from the knight commander.

Whatever his motives, Eonian Bascallia still needed Sherilotte Chartreuse alive. That alone was enough for her to show a hint of trust.

“…”

Eonian fell silent, staring at her for a long time.

But his expression looked strange. His mouth twitched like he was suppressing laughter.

“You look ugly like that. Either laugh properly or don’t at all.”

“…No, it’s not that.”

Eonian wiped at the corners of his reddened eyes and held out his hand.

“Alright, I’ll save you anytime.”

“Good, then we have a deal.”

They shook hands lightly, then let go and walked apart. Leaning against the wall, Eonian exhaled and asked:

“So you want to start with agricultural reform?”

“Yeah.”

“…”

“Do you disagree?”

He shook his head.

“No, not really. It’s similar.”

“Similar? So not exactly the same?”

“Sheril, at first I thought agriculture should come first too. Because spies—if they feed you false information—could actually be useful.”

Tapping his lips with his finger, Eonian grinned.

“But now I think… maybe we can do both.”

“So that’s what Lord Bascallia proposed. Deal with the spies and develop agriculture at the same time.”

“…And how does that relate to letting the knight commander escape?”

“Agriculture is being prepared separately.”

Sherilotte pulled tools and a quill from her desk drawer, along with the letter she had used to gain legitimacy from the Pope to travel north.

“We needed to find out who was behind the knight commander. You know that, right?”

“Obviously the eastern nobles. Either House Freyue or House Leonat.”

“I mean the actual handler.”

At that, realization flickered across Liam’s face. Sherilotte continued.

“So we gave him a fake note, disguised as if his masters were giving him a chance at survival. We attached a tracking device and deliberately let him escape.”

“…”

“That’s the whole story.”

When Liam nodded in understanding, Sherilotte smiled.

“So you don’t need to feel guilty at all. If anyone deserves blame, it’s me and Lord Bascallia.”

“May I ask one thing?”

“What is it?”

“If the knight commander tried to assassinate Your Grace, it means his masters are the kind who cut off pawns without hesitation once they’re useless. Then… why did he believe the fake note? He must’ve known going back meant death.”

Sherilotte’s eyes drifted toward the sunlight streaming in.

“…Because we forced him into a situation with absolutely no hope left.”

And that had largely been Eonian’s doing.

“You remember the interrogation questions I asked?”

“Yeah. You threatened him relentlessly.”

“I tricked the lesser ones with promises of reduced sentences. The knight commander must’ve overheard bits of that.”

“What?”

Eonian had pressed on their psychology effectively—not just sowing discord, but interrogating them separately, then punishing them harsher if contradictions arose.

Sherilotte’s tactic of depriving them of sleep was only seasoning on top.

‘Definitely not someone I want as an enemy.’

She shook her head and sighed quietly.

“And Eonian suggested this too: use the agricultural reform as a way to gather evidence of who to purge from within the castle.”

“Ah…”

“So no one can claim unfair treatment.”

Sherilotte rose and slowly walked toward the wall. There hung a painting of a spring landscape before the north had grown cold, flowers blooming everywhere.

[Grand Duke Richard Kale Chartreuse & Grand Duchess Amelie Freyue Chartreuse]

But the portrait showed only their names and frame—the couple themselves were missing.

“Liam.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“As you know… my parents disappeared.”

She brushed her fingers over the nameplate.

“They never returned after setting out to subjugate monsters…”

“…”

“I want to at least recover their remains.”

Her voice was tinged with sorrow and longing. Memories of playing carelessly in the gardens with Eonian, without worry, squeezed her chest painfully.

But she didn’t cry.

“And I’ll rebuild the Grand Duchy of Chartreuse—my parents’ legacy.”

This was only the beginning.

Once known as a magical city rivaling the Mage Tower. A land where craftsmen and magic soldiers lived in harmony. A land rich with rare resources, forests, and magic-filled nature.

Sherilotte would use everything she had—not to be a shameful daughter, and to revive her homeland.

“So you can’t keep moping around.”

“…”

“Because from now on, I’ll be working you to the bone.”

Turning her back to her parents’ portrait, Sherilotte extended her hand to Liam.

“Will you follow me?”

Liam blinked slowly. His blurred vision cleared enough to see the Grand Duke’s round face, illuminated in warm shades.

Proof that sunlight was finally shining into the northern castle once clouded by gloom.

Then who was the sun?

Wiping his eyes, Liam smiled. The answer he owed his lord was already decided.

That evening.

In one of the watchtowers of the ducal castle, Sherilotte gazed at the cloudless indigo sky. When she sensed someone, she turned her head.

“…Who’s there?”

“It’s me, Sheril.”

“Eonian?”

He grinned and squeezed himself in beside her. The cramped space made Sherilotte frown.

“Why are you so big? Move over!”

“Hey, come on. For my height, I’m actually on the lean side.”

“Cutting off your legs wasn’t enough. Guess I’ll need to do something about your arms too.”

“Ever heard the saying, ‘Even beans should be shared’? Let’s share the space.”

His cheeky comeback was followed by a clap of his hands.

“Anyway, I overheard that speech you gave your subordinate in your office. Very moving.”

“…What? How did you hear that? The room was locked.”

“Why are you embarrassed?”

When Eonian chuckled, Sherilotte’s face flamed red. She yanked at his sideburns.

“Shut up, you jerk!”

“Ghk—ahh! Ow—ha—haha—!”

Making strange noises somewhere between pain and delight, Eonian only stopped when she actually plucked a strand of hair out.

“Wow, you really pulled it out…”

“You should’ve stopped when I told you to.”

“But teasing you is too much fun.”

“Want me to pluck another?”

“No, I’ll go bald.”

Eonian shook his head, smoothing his hair as he muttered:

“Playing around like this… feels just like the old days.”

“…”

“Don’t you think so?”

Sherilotte’s face stiffened noticeably.