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Chapter 61
Marturs—no, Michael—had not planned to meet Queen Ash today.
The whole incident began when one of his subordinates came to him, pale and trembling.
“Please… just meet the lady I serve. Just once.”
There were plenty of women eager to meet a young and wealthy man.
Even though 20,000 gold was no small sum, they believed it was worth spending to meet him.
Michael assumed the lady in question was just another one of those women. So he casually nodded at Anna’s request without giving it much thought.
But when the woman appeared at the agreed-upon meeting place—dressed suspiciously, face tightly concealed—she was beyond rude.
“So it’s you? The bourgeois dog who’ll do anything for money, legal or illegal?”
She pointed at him and spoke informally without hesitation.
Noble ladies, even as they admired him, often looked down on him. Pasina’s attitude wasn’t much different, so Michael wasn’t offended.
Even as she mocked him, he maintained his characteristic easygoing smile.
“I have a proposition for you.”
A one-hour meal for 20,000 gold—still a business opportunity. Michael smiled like a flower blooming in capitalism.
“Help Derrick Babylon become king. In return, I’ll give you the status you’ve always dreamed of—something even greater.”
“Are you asking me to commit treason?”
“Nobility as a founding contributor. Tempting, isn’t it?”
The woman who introduced herself as Pasina seemed to assume Michael was desperate for status. While he wasn’t completely uninterested, unlike many others, he didn’t particularly crave nobility.
He was about to tell her she had the wrong idea—until Pasina muttered something to herself that caught his attention.
“Of all times, why did the twin sister have to appear? If not for her, I wouldn’t have needed to come here.”
She was an easy read. She didn’t even realize she was talking out loud.
Michael leaned his chin on his hand, listening carefully.
“I read in the Times that Princess Erne’s body was found. And that her twin sister, Princess Ash, was crowned queen.”
“Then this should be easy. Her appearance ruined everything for us.”
He didn’t need to ask who “us” referred to.
The entire kingdom was abuzz over the new queen’s ascension—and the Babylon family, once riding high, had been knocked down a few pegs.
Some of Michael’s acquaintances had even lost money investing in Babylon businesses.
Tilting his head, he asked again.
“What exactly do you want from me?”
“Queen Ash is backed by the Douglas duchy. We need wealth that can rival theirs.”
Being compared to Douglas wasn’t an insult, but still—
Michael narrowed his eyes in amusement.
He had one firm principle: no matter how talented he was at making money, he always knew where to lie down. A giant like Duke Douglas was not someone to provoke lightly.
Did this woman even understand the storm her words might stir?
He clicked his tongue internally, watching the vain and shortsighted Pasina.
“So if I help you take down Queen Ash, you’ll help me become a full noble?”
“Exactly. Trust me.”
All she had going for her was blind courage and poor judgment.
“I’m the one who drove that backwoods princess out of Nesheld. She’s nothing but royal blood with no real education or etiquette. Not fit to lead society.”
Not a shred of respect in her voice—just venomous disdain.
“I trust you’ll make the wise choice. You’ll help me, right?”
After rambling on, Pasina downed her water and asked again, expectantly.
But Michael didn’t give her an answer. Rushed decisions only led to trouble. With a bright smile, he glanced at the finished meal.
He was already rising from his seat.
“I’ll give you my answer soon.”
“This isn’t something to—!”
He’d expected her to throw a tantrum, demanding an answer on the spot. But surprisingly, she calmed herself quickly. Clearly realizing she was the one in need.
“Fine. But it better be the answer I want.”
It was almost a threat. But Michael didn’t bother pointing that out.
And that was how the offer from this 20,000-gold meal piqued his interest.
It was the reason he now stood here at the party, disguised as a servant named Marturs.
“My name is Marturs. I’m newly appointed as a servant and got lost. I beg your pardon for the intrusion.”
A perfect lie. The Queen looked startled by the stranger but responded kindly and gracefully. A perfect display of royal composure.
Michael’s opinion of her rose.
“You’ve worked hard preparing for the banquet. Where were you headed?”
“I was told to assist in the garden outside the ballroom, Your Majesty.”
“To reach the garden, follow this hallway and turn right. You’ll find stairs leading down.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Her golden eyes sparkled. Michael had only seen Princess Erne once from afar, but this resemblance was uncanny. If not for the mole beneath her left eye, he might’ve thought they were the same person.
‘Still… this one’s got a fiercer presence.’
She was kind, but firm. Her voice carried authority.
Michael felt that he’d gathered enough information and was about to leave.
At least, that had been the plan.
But her radiant golden eyes—like sunlight itself—held his gaze captive.
Even lifting his foot felt like dragging wet cotton.
“May I… look forward to the day we meet again?”
It wasn’t part of the plan, but the words just slipped out.
He instantly regretted it—but the Queen’s response was far simpler than expected.
“Yes. Thank you for your work today.”
Polite but brief. Michael couldn’t help but feel disappointed.
He turned to leave—only to come face-to-face with Duke Douglas, glaring at him with a stormy expression.
Michael quickly lowered his head, afraid the Duke might recognize him.
Thankfully, the Duke seemed to have no business with him and stomped into the room.
He could hear the Queen and Duke talking from afar, but the words weren’t clear.
Michael knew he should slip away while no one was looking, but his feet wouldn’t move.
And that’s when Shuknen, following behind the Duke, spotted him.
“Hey, you! Who are you, and why are you lurking near Her Majesty?”
The kid’s sharp voice cut through the air.
Michael gave a sheepish smile, bowing his head. A finely dressed child. There were no children like this in the royal family, so this must be Duke Douglas’s adopted son.
“Not answering? Who gave you the right to hang around our teacher— I mean, Her Majesty?”
Arms crossed, hip cocked, the kid’s expression was pure arrogance.
His sharp eyes didn’t leave Michael for a second.
“I just got lost, that’s all…”
The perfect lie that had worked on the Queen didn’t fool the boy.
“Suspicious. You’re way too suspicious!”
As the boy scrutinized him, Michael’s mouth twitched.
His light pink hair swayed side to side, and cold sweat ran down Michael’s back.
Then, Shuknen clapped his hands, as if a realization had struck.
“You! You’ve fallen for Her Majesty and came here on purpose!”
The certainty in his tone nearly made Michael collapse.
Because yes, his intentions weren’t pure—and this was so far off-script, he had no defense against the boy’s piercing accusations.
The longer he stayed silent, the more Shuknen’s eyes sparkled. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“Too bad. My father’s already claimed Her Majesty.”
“……Excuse me?”
Claimed her?
Michael wondered if he’d heard correctly.
Was that really something a kid should be saying?
But Shuknen wasn’t done yet.
“I’ve already figured you out. My deductions are flawless. The fact that you came down this hall, when servants usually use another route…”
Gulp. His throat moved involuntarily.
“You must be a new servant…”
His palms were damp with sweat.
“You…”
Shuknen’s eyes drilled into Michael. Was it carelessness? How had a mere child unraveled his cover?
And then—
“You’ve fallen for Her Majesty!”
Stagger. The twist was so absurd that Michael nearly collapsed.
The kid’s deduction was… correct, in a different sense.
As Michael stood there, twitching with awkward laughter, Shuknen beamed.
“As expected. My deductions never miss.”
Perfect. Flawless.
Watching the self-satisfied boy, Michael was utterly speechless.
‘What the hell did Duke Douglas teach this kid?!’
