VITE 10

 CHAPTER 10

“The Villainess Will Take Everything”

“Oh my goodness, Your Highness! Baron Pol, let go of her—ahh!”

Lena let out a piercing scream and tried to rush at Baron Pol.

But there was no way Lena, who was weaker even than me, could possibly win against him.

With a single shove, Baron Pol pushed Lena aside, and she collapsed onto the rug.

“Your Highness, wouldn’t it be more convenient if you had simply left before being dragged out like this?”

A faint laugh slipped out of me.

Did he not realize that this behavior was basically an admission that he had already lost?

I had never seen a single decent person among those who lost in logic and immediately resorted to brute force.

Without even considering that I might retaliate, he strode toward the door.

How pathetic.

I moved to pull the careless Baron Pol toward me, intending to use his own momentum to flip him over—

—but someone grabbed his wrist first.

“Urgh—! Aghhh!”

A thick hand seized Baron Pol’s wrist with brutal force, and he instinctively let go of mine.

What happened next was instantaneous.

Baron Pol was kicked—or struck by something—and went crashing across the floor.

Standing between him and me was a man’s back.

Even from behind, there was no way I wouldn’t recognize him.

And Baron Pol, who now had to face him directly, certainly recognized him even more clearly.

Groaning as he tried to stand, Baron Pol suddenly froze in shock.

“C-Colin… Duke Colin! What brings you here…?”

“……”

I couldn’t see his face at all since he stood with his back to me.

But that was only natural.

He was a head taller than Baron Pol, with a massive, intimidating build.

And it wasn’t just his physique—the aura he carried was completely different.

Even if he suffered from trauma, this was a war hero who had fought across countless battlefields.

This wasn’t pressure a mere office bureaucrat could withstand.

“M-My apologies, D-Duke… what are you doing… ahhh!”

The Duke walked up to the fallen Baron Pol and stepped down on his wrist.

The very hand that had grabbed mine.

“P-Please… Duke! My wrist—my wrist…!”

Baron Pol’s screams echoed sharply, and the Duke frowned.

“Too loud. Perhaps I should have pulled out your tongue first.”

“……”

Gulping down his pain, Baron Pol desperately tried to suppress his screams.

Crack.

“AAAAAAGHHH!”

Only after a sickening sound came from his wrist did the Duke finally lift his foot.

Grabbing Baron Pol by the collar as tears streamed down his face, he forced him upright.

Baron Pol dangled helplessly in his grip, choking and gasping.

His wrist was bent at an unnatural angle, clearly broken.

Only then did the Duke turn to look at me.

Even while casually breaking a man into a mess, his expression remained as indifferent as during breakfast.

“Need the documents, Dayton.”

Whether he understood or not, he turned away from me without a word and spoke to Baron Pol.

“You have work to do, don’t you?”

His slow, low voice sounded like a predator’s growl.

Baron Pol nodded frantically.

“Y-Yes! Of course! I-I’ll get them immediately!”

Terrified, he avoided even looking at the Duke and stumbled over his words.

Clutching his injured arm, he hurried into the document room.

Lena, standing beside the sofa, bounced slightly on her heels.

Trying to look composed, I asked her,

“Why do you look so pleased?”

Lena puffed up her cheeks and glared in the direction Baron Pol had run off.

“I feel so relieved! He was always so strict even though he was just handling low-level allocations.”

“Oh?”

“Do you know how many times the kitchen staff cried because of him? It’s easily over ten fingers’ worth!”

Her voice carried a laugh she couldn’t fully hide, as she added that he always acted so superior even though he wasn’t the one providing anything.

Cute. Lena was the type whose feelings were always obvious—but that was both her flaw and her charm.

And then there was one more person.

Dayton stood there, expressionless, as if it was only natural.

Did I plant rabbits around me or something? They keep popping up at the first sign of trouble.

He looked blank, but anyone who knew him could easily tell what he was thinking.

I decided to pretend not to notice.

“Why are you here? You already said your farewells and left the estate earlier.”

“…I had something I left behind.”

“Something you left behind? What, handcuffs?”

Dayton’s expression cracked for a moment, and Lena covered her mouth.

“Did you just swear?”

“…What are you talking about? I didn’t say anything.”

Sure you didn’t. Just now, you definitely did—very clearly.

But there was nothing Dayton could possibly have left behind in my room.

He had arrived empty-handed to begin with.

Finding an excuse, huh? At least try harder.

Dayton exhaled quietly and ran a hand through his hair, regaining composure.

“Don’t cause trouble and behave yourself.”

“What am I, a child? You’re very caring, my fiancé.”

I smiled sweetly, and he frowned even harder.

“I mean don’t create more unnecessary problems.”

“Of course, of course.”

“…I will take my leave.”

He politely bowed, then left the internal treasury office with a deeply distrustful look.

Shortly after he left, Baron Pol returned.

Confirming the Duke was gone, he cautiously asked,

“T-The Duke…?”

“He’ll be back. He just went to the restroom.”

Baron Pol visibly tensed again and quickly handed over the documents.

“Here—t-this includes records from last year, and from January to May this year.”

It was April right now—May?

I took the stack of parchment, roughly a dozen sheets.

It wasn’t much, so it didn’t take long to go through.

“…What is this?”

Flipping through the poorly written documents, the inconsistencies piled up.

“I-I’ll take my leave now.”

Baron Pol, sensing the situation, quickly slipped out while Dayton was gone.

I glared at the parchments that didn’t even resemble proper imperial records.

No dates, no clear categories—just monthly lump entries.

Worse, only expenses were listed, with no indication of who received the funds.

It was so sloppy that even my high school allowance ledger would have been more accurate.

Among the nonsense, one thing stood out even more.

[April Roneta Estate Expenses]

• Estate repair and maintenance: 460,000 francs
• Garden maintenance: 100,000 francs
• Food expenses: 120,000 francs
• Dignity maintenance: 70,000 francs
• …
• Total: 1,500,000 francs

“Wait, what’s the monthly living cost of a lower noble again?”

“About 500,000 francs.”

So they gave Melissa three times that amount?

Just thinking about her old, worn dresses made it obvious this was a lie.

Then what was this?

Estate repair and maintenance?

The kitchen was falling apart, yet they claimed they repaired the estate?

“Lena.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Was there any repair work done in April?”

I had only possessed Melissa in mid-April, so I asked just in case.

“I don’t think so. We even reported a broken tile in the laundry room and it’s still there.”

Of course.

People who were stingy with food wouldn’t suddenly spend money on repairs.

“And the garden?”

“The garden? People say it’s haunted.”

So much for maintenance.

This wasn’t even a proper cover-up—it was sloppy enough to get caught instantly.

And then—May records were included too.

Even though it wasn’t May yet.

The numbers were slightly higher, but otherwise similar.

And then I reached the salary ledger.

“…This one is actually properly done.”

Unlike the expense reports, the salary records were detailed: dates, names, payers, recipients—everything.

Which meant only one thing.

They didn’t bother hiding the salaries.

“They’re still recording full payments, even though the staff say their wages are being reduced.”

Someone was definitely siphoning the money.

At the top, the signatures differed.

According to Lena, one belonged to the internal treasury director.

And then—

“Why is Count Drowell’s signature here?”

Lena pointed at the bottom of the document.

“Count Porton Drowell?”

“Ah yes, him! But he’s not part of the Internal Treasury…”

Porton Drowell.

That name wasn’t unfamiliar.