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Chapter 28
“Are you perhaps talking about Nightingale in the Deep Night?”
The lady with curly hair and glasses beamed as she accurately referenced a specific scene.
“Of course. The knight jumps over the wall to rescue the female lead, who has been confined due to her family’s opposition.”
As they say, masters recognize each other.
Pryzia quickly threw out another bait.
“Then you must’ve read The Runaway Duchess too?”
“Of course. I found the latest release very fascinating as well.”
She never imagined she’d find someone other than her sister to talk to about this sort of thing.
“When that damn duke cried while coming to get his duchess back—it felt so refreshing!”
“Yes! He clung to the hem of her dress, begging her not to leave. That scene was the most satisfying, hands down.”
The lady who could recall Alster’s collection as well as Pryzia herself was named Lydia.
Same age as Pryzia, her father had amassed a fortune through trade and bought himself a title—he was the newly risen noble, Viscount Lavalny.
“Alster made their debut over ten years ago. I even own a first edition of Lady Margaret.”
The controversial debut novel Lady Margaret was so risqué that it faced rare demands for revision, and later editions were significantly toned down.
Though it was known for its shock value, the academy’s copy had long since been stolen by someone, turning the original manuscript into something of a mythical text. Even Pryzia had never read it.
“You haven’t read it either, Pryzia?”
“It came out so long ago.”
She only developed her reading hobby after recovering her memories of reality. With the tight finances of the Devlan household, it was impossible to make such selfish demands for a pricey first edition.
The revised version was rather bland. All she wanted was to see the original—famed for being pure shock and awe.
Noticing her transparent eagerness, Hyacinth asked:
“Is that book really that good?”
“Absolutely. There are many great books and authors, but if I had to pick the best of my life, Alster would be it.”
Since things had gone this far, Pryzia decided to promote them a little.
When she began speaking with her old flair for sales, everyone started showing interest.
“Perhaps we should hold the next meeting in Cromford.”
At the sudden proposal from the princess, Pryzia rolled her eyes inwardly.
She wasn’t about to agree so easily without knowing what scheme was behind it. So she offered a polite, vague response with an elegant smile.
“When the time is right and I’m ready.”
Exactly when that might be was entirely in Pryzia’s hands.
Just because someone left a gap didn’t mean she planned to let them exploit it.
“We’re actually reorganizing the palace library catalog right now. If the opportunity arises, I’d love to formally invite you to the palace.”
The palace library.
That phrase triggered a faint sense of familiarity. Something very important was there—she was sure of it.
“Ah!”
The palace library—she remembered now.
A magical artifact that could greatly help her was stored there.
The enchanted mirror that reveals the future of the protagonist!
With it, she might be able to gain clues about how the future would unfold.
“I’d love to visit.”
Pryzia clasped the princess’s hand tightly and nodded eagerly.
At a time when Wilfred Cromford wasn’t even considered as a potential head of the family…
He had already demonstrated his exceptional talent through numerous inventions and secured major patents.
“I’m Albert Mustrang.”
Among his ventures, publishing had brought him the greatest profit.
Starting with novels, including exclusive contracts with author Alster, Mustrang Publishing now dominated general literature and textbook markets—holding over 80% of all sales.
And considering that the rest mostly came from the Bible—which was printed using machines donated by Mustrang—it was practically a monopoly.
“It’s been a while.”
Albert, now nearing fifty, bowed respectfully before the much younger duke.
Even though the market was monopolized, the Mustrang group had multiple competing publishers under its umbrella.
He forced them to compete fiercely, which led to drastic reductions in book prices.
“Books are still selling well. Especially Alster’s new one—it flew off the shelves. People are already demanding volume two.”
Of course, that was thanks to the widespread availability of printing machines.
“I heard you took quite a few of the new releases this time.”
“Is that a problem?”
The duke’s displeasure was apparent, and Mustrang gave a bitter smile.
When they had first met, Wilfred had been nothing but a poor scribe.
“It takes about two weeks to copy a book by hand, sometimes a month.”
“Pathetic.”
Then, just a few days later, the young duke had invented an astonishing machine that no one had imagined:
A printing press that could automatically stamp out letters.
“There’s no real problem, aside from complaints that Alster’s next book is taking too long.”
“If anything, it’ll be later, not sooner.”
“Sounds like you’re enjoying married life quite a bit?”
With a clack, the duke set down his pen, not bothering to hide his irritation.
“Who said that?”
“It’s all over the capital. That forbidden love you nurtured—sneaking into the lady’s bedchamber every night. Doesn’t that sound like a familiar story?”
Mustrang had been grinning knowingly, but he swallowed nervously as the air turned cold.
Wilfred set down his fountain pen and fixed him with a frigid gaze.
“I asked you who.”
“Well… no one in the capital doesn’t know. If you insist on sources—it’d be the high-ranking nobles.”
He could almost hear the princess’s laughter somewhere.
Even if it was wrapped up like a romantic love story, in the end, it was just scandal—and Pryzia was the only one becoming the butt of the joke.
She had tried to spin it positively, but the hasty marriage only fueled worse misunderstandings.
“This is bothering me.”
Even after Mustrang left, the duke looked troubled.
Jade quickly reported on Pryzia’s status.
“I’ve been told there’s nothing unusual.”
“Make sure to confirm everything she talked about. Especially anything that could become a problem—leave nothing out.”
Unlike his innocent wife, the princess would surely try to use her however she could.
While he was occupied with work in the study, a servant came to announce that the lady of the house had returned.
“What could she have been doing until this hour?”
He had been told the club meeting might run late, but it was already 8 p.m.—well past dinner.
He had skipped dinner and been working while waiting for her.
What could she have been doing until now?
When he approached to escort her from the carriage, the coachman and maid looked uncomfortably guilty.
“What happened?”
“Well, actually… the madam…”
He didn’t wait for the maid’s reply and flung open the carriage door.
“Mmm…”
“Well, the thing is…”
Just before leaving, Pryzia had accepted a cocktail offered by the princess—and ended up completely drunk on the way home.
“Lily, my cute little sister…”
She called the maid next to her Lily and clung tightly to her, refusing to let go.
“Move.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
As the maid inside moved back, Pryzia frowned and looked around.
“Oh! It’s my dear duke.”
With a bright smile that stunned him, Wilfred paused to breathe.
A dazzling smile she had never once shown him.
A smile he had believed would never be allowed for him—common for others, yet something he had never seen.
“Pryzia.”
“Hey, I’ve actually got something to say to you…”
She reached out to take a step, but her legs gave way and she collapsed.
He gently caught her in his arms and then shot a cold glare at the frightened maids.
“What are your duties supposed to be?”
“W-We’ve committed a grave sin…”
In small households, a single maid often handles all chores, but at Cromford—employing over a thousand staff—maids are assigned to specific departments.
Those assigned to assist the lady of the house are the most elite.
“Let it go. If the princess got involved, what could they have done to stop it?”
“Madame Benoit.”
If it weren’t for his not-blood-related mother stepping in, those maids might not have survived.
Wilfred still looked displeased as he gazed down at the drunken woman in his arms.
“Would you say the same if it were poison instead of alcohol?”
“Well now. You’re even baring your fangs at me. How unexpected.”
Even if she was his legal mother, he felt no affection for Madame Benoit.
He had no intention of building a relationship now—unless it involved Pryzia.
“Madame Benoit?”
Upon seeing her, the drunken Pryzia blushed.
Then she pushed the duke away, ran to Madame Benoit, and smiled sweetly.
“Sis, you’re so pretty.”
At the unexpected confession, Madame Benoit began stroking Pryzia’s head like a bunny.
“What should I do with this one?”
Seeing her bask in satisfaction, the duke clenched his fists tightly.
