Chapter 24
What remains after a successful banquet?
The dishes.
Empty plates piled endlessly in the kitchen, stacked neatly one after another.
Yet, no one complained. Some even hummed cheerfully as they worked.
“Look! They cleaned their plates again!”
“Wow, when was the last time we saw dishes this spotless?”
Of course — those empty plates were proof of the night’s success, proof that what could have been a disastrous banquet had ended in triumph.
And the moment the heroine of that success — Lora — entered the kitchen, every staff member stopped what they were doing, removed their hats, and bowed respectfully.
“This was all thanks to you, my lady.”
“That’s right, if it weren’t for you, we’d have been in serious trouble.”
Even though Lora could’ve easily pinned the blame on them and walked away unscathed, she instead calmly took control of the chaos and found a solution.
“She even suggested the brilliant idea of serving the fish stew still boiling.”
“I should be the one thanking you,” Lora said kindly. “It couldn’t have been easy to follow such an odd idea, but you trusted me anyway.”
The kitchen staff were struck silent.
“Is this woman an angel?”
Rehan, the sous chef, felt a twinge of guilt.
“To think I avoided someone like her just because of rumors. How foolish of me.”
Lora had never wronged Rehan personally. He’d merely heard gossip through other maids and distanced himself because of it.
If things hadn’t gone well tonight, he knew it wouldn’t just be him losing his job — it would have endangered every kitchen worker and their families. The cost of ruining an imperial event was that severe.
That’s why he felt compelled to speak up.
“My lady, may I say something?”
“What is it?”
“I, Rehan, believe that you should become the Crown Princess.”
Lora, who had been calmly sipping water, spat it out in shock.
“O–of course, one lowly commoner’s support won’t change much,” he stammered, “but I’ll do what I can to expand your influence in the palace, even a little.”
It was his declaration of loyalty — a promise to repay her kindness by helping her rise.
“I’ll help too!”
“Me too! I’ll tell everyone what a wonderful person you are!”
The others joined in, shouting their support like a chorus.
Lora just stood there, momentarily stunned, before letting out an awkward laugh and shaking her head.
“I appreciate the sentiment, but that won’t be necessary.”
“What? Why not?”
“The Crown Princess is a position of the highest honor — a mother to the nation. A seat like that… should only be earned by one’s own effort, don’t you think?”
In truth, she simply couldn’t bring herself to mention the contract she had with Asel.
But to them—
“How radiant she is.”
“To ascend by merit alone… what integrity!”
“Someone with such noble ideals truly deserves to be Crown Princess.”
They admired her all the more.
Lora, of course, had no idea what they were thinking.
“Well, if that’s your wish,” Rehan said, dabbing at his misty eyes, “then we’ll respect it.”
Lora just smiled, brushing off their words.
She hadn’t come to the kitchen to hear their thanks, after all — she was here to confirm something.
“I thought the sea bass came from Esha’s trading company…”
She had deliberately dropped hints so that Marienne would sabotage the freezer, then arranged for Esha to supply the banquet ingredients.
Esha had recently mentioned wanting to repay her debts, and Lora planned to use that promise as part of her countermeasure.
“The list of goods and the quantities matched exactly with what I told Esha, so I assumed she’d handled it…”
But after the banquet ended, she learned Esha had never procured the goods.
“Then who sent them?”
Lora flipped over one of the ingredient crates—
And froze.
“Ha.”
Five small black dots were burned into the wood. She couldn’t help but sigh.
“Is something wrong, my lady?”
Rehan asked when she laughed softly to herself.
“No, nothing at all.”
Those five black dots weren’t random markings — they were the emblem of Dindin’s Merchant Guild.
“Why would he send this?”
She hadn’t asked for his help, nor had they even met recently. Why interfere now?
It was puzzling, but…
“Oh well.”
The problem had been solved — that was what mattered.
She returned the crate to its place and let out a long, easy sigh.
“…As long as it’s not a ‘service first, payment later’ deal, I’ll be fine.”
And she meant it.
Meanwhile…
The office of the Macherta Merchant Guild’s master.
Usually, the room would be silent — Dindin alone at his desk, quietly working.
But not today.
“So you’re saying you sent all those supplies without even asking for payment?!”
The deputy guildmaster, Haar, had abandoned his usual composure and was shouting in disbelief.
“I thought, if anyone would exploit the situation for profit, it’d be you!”
The only reason Dindin had been able to supply ingredients for the banquet was because of the Marcellin Trading Guild.
A small independent guild like Macherta suddenly hoarding massive amounts of seafood naturally drew attention.
Dindin had intercepted the goods intended for Marcellin midway — at great expense — and Haar hadn’t thought twice about it.
He had assumed Dindin would extort a hefty sum from Lady Lora afterward.
“But you just gave it all away? And hid that you were the one behind it?!”
It was madness.
Haar couldn’t contain himself.
“Have you suddenly developed an interest in charity?”
“Charity? No.” Dindin smirked. “Call it an investment.”
He lifted his teacup — a flawed, returned item, naturally. Dindin hated wasting money on perfection.
“I just got the feeling that woman was born under a golden star.”
Ever since Lora had purchased shares, Dindin had kept an eye on her every move.
She’d bought stocks, done nothing for a month, then — right before the Arrieta Kingdom’s royal ball — sold them all.
After that, she shorted the market, made a fortune, and disappeared without a backward glance.
Her clean, decisive exit was unlike any other trader he’d seen.
“Someone like that,” he murmured, “is worth getting to know.”
“…Ah?” Haar gave a hollow laugh.
“What?”
“Nothing… it’s just…”
He had half-suspected his boss had finally fallen for a woman.
“…And realizing that’s not the case makes me feel like an idiot.”
Well, what did he expect?
Haar shook his head and left.
Alone again, Dindin was about to return to work when suddenly—
– A fragment of memory returns.
A stabbing pain shot through his head.
Flashes of someone’s voice echoed in his mind.
[You’re seriously obsessed with gold, aren’t you?]
[Don’t flatter yourself — I’m even greedier than you.]
A flood of memories surged and faded like a passing tide.
The shadow of a woman — faceless, nameless — slipped away.
He couldn’t recall who she was.
But still…
“I knew it.”
Dindin trusted his instincts.
And this time, he was satisfied.
“It was an excellent investment,” he said with a smirk.
That evening,
I finally learned the full story.
“So, the Macherta Guild monopolized the logistics midway.”
Sir Loren, who’d come in Esha’s stead, explained everything.
“My lady says her debt remains unpaid. She’s willing to help again if you ever need it.”
“That won’t be necessary… The banquet went off without a hitch, after all.”
“Still, debts should be settled properly. More importantly…”
Loren hesitated before adding,
“Her debt is also my debt.”
He looked determined — as though he’d made up his mind to protect the noble lady from someone as infamous as me.
“When did I become some sort of wicked witch?”
Just because I lost a bit of memory, now he stared at me with those cold, wary eyes.
Feeling a bit spiteful, I teased him.
“So, you really like Esha that much, do you?”
“W–what? Of course not!”
He tried to deny it, but really, there was no point pretending — not when I already knew.
“Do you know, Sir Loren,” I said lightly, “that coughing and love are the two things you can’t hide?”
