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Chapter : 13
Marianne sipped the freshly brewed tea Laurent had made and sank into thought.
In the North that Cedric would one day rule, there were still people living on the land.
They were people who continued to struggle through life in the North—because they couldn’t afford to leave for another territory, because their loyalty to the late Grand Duke had not faded, or for various other reasons.
‘…I can’t just let people like that die.’
She knew that starting this winter, snowfall far more severe than anything before would begin.
And she also knew that by the time Cedric ascended to the ducal seat, the population of the territory would have decreased to nearly one-fifth of its current number.
The reason was food. With fierce blizzards raging every day, even hunters accustomed to the northern cold couldn’t bring themselves to enter the forest, and the storehouses emptied quickly.
‘If the Duke were still alive, or if the Emperor had provided relief, things would have been different…’
The lord was dead, and the Emperor had turned his back on the North.
That was why, in the future, Cedric would have to pour tremendous effort into rebuilding a North that had deteriorated terribly.
Of course, as the male lead, help would pour in from all sides…
“Uuh?”
Marianne came back to reality at the sound of Cedric’s small cry. The way he rolled his round eyes was so cute that it made her smile.
To think that such an adorable child would later become a Grand Duke of the North who was warm only to the female lead—love truly was powerful.
“I’m sorry. I got lost in thought.”
With a brief apology, Marianne tapped the picture book Cedric had been looking at.
“Shall I read it to you, my little Duke?”
“Aa.”
Cedric let out a small cry. She decided to take it as a sign of agreement.
Pulling the picture book toward her, Marianne thought she should try to get more books or toys. She had been reading the same one over and over for days now, and if Cedric was unconsciously getting bored, she wouldn’t even know.
‘I should have asked the Margrave before he left.’
If she had, Count Croc would surely have brought various things under the pretext of presenting gifts to the young Duke protected by the Imperial Princess. It was a shame.
‘Hmm. No—think positively.’
Marianne shook her head slightly. She had already received more than enough kindness from the Margrave.
As for getting new picture books, she would have to ask Laurent—though she felt sorry—to make one more trip to a neighboring territory before the blizzards hit.
Having整理ed her thoughts, she began to slowly read the picture book she had nearly memorized by now.
“Greetings. Your Highness Princess Marianne. It is an honor for my family to meet you thus. I am Jean Croc. Though lacking, as Count Croc I faithfully serve His Majesty the Emperor.”
Marianne was taken aback.
The first reason was that Count Croc had arrived less than three days after the Margrave returned. The second was the enormous carriage that had stopped behind him.
‘Just how much of his own money did the Margrave spend?’
While inwardly calling out desperately for Helene, who wasn’t present, Marianne did her best to control her expression.
Feigning wariness toward a stranger, she narrowed her eyes slightly and returned the greeting.
“It’s nice to meet you, but what brings you all the way to the North?”
“Ah, it seems you have not heard from Her Majesty the Empress. Long ago, when I was young and very poor, I happened to meet Her Majesty.”
“…My mother?”
“Yes. When she heard the story of how my family had fallen due to my grandfather’s mistake and misfortune, she took pity on me as a child.”
Perhaps he had once been an actor—Count Croc’s acting was superb. With a face full of melancholy, as if retracing a distant past, and only the corners of his lips lifting slightly, he looked like a man with a deep and sorrowful story.
“Hm.”
Marianne slightly lifted her chin, checked once more the Croc family crest carved prominently into the wall, then nodded.
“Let’s hear the details inside.”
“Thank you for your mercy, Your Highness.”
Count Croc bowed excessively politely. After receiving his greeting, Marianne turned toward the mansion and briefly scanned the maids standing nearby.
They had already been standing for a long time in the cold corridor, and on top of that, Lusana—who had overexerted herself by going to the temple and fallen ill—had sent them in her stead.
‘They don’t seem particularly on guard.’
Rather than being suspicious of Count Croc’s sudden appearance, they seemed more eager to escape the cold entrance hall.
Well, unlike Lusana, who was both a noble and a maid, most of them were probably commoners.
“Prepare tea.”
“Yes.”
Marianne sat in the seat of honor in the reception room that the maids Lusana had brought had thoroughly cleaned. Leaning back against the chair, she quietly observed Jean Croc.
More precisely, she glanced at the box placed beside where he sat. It was so large and heavy-looking that two sturdy servants he had brought were needed to carry it.
I’ve seen something like that before. Ah—it looks like a treasure chest loaded onto a pirate ship.
“This is black tea harvested in Mine, famous for its tea, Your Highness. We’ve prepared cookies and scones to go with it.”
Amelie set the teacups and plates of pastries on the table, explained, and then stepped back.
According to rigid aristocratic etiquette, a visitor could not lift their cup first, so Marianne raised her teacup and sipped the steaming black tea.
Then she slowly returned the cup to its place and spoke.
“I’ve thought about it for a moment, but I don’t recall ever hearing that my mother helped you. So please explain in detail.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Count Croc immediately set down his cup and cleared his throat. Once again, he became a man recalling a hazy past.
“I am from Ujel. When I was eleven, I happened to meet Her Majesty when she visited Ujel.”
Since Jean Croc was said to be thirty-one, this was an event from a full twenty years ago. It was clear he had calculated carefully to make it difficult for Louis to investigate.
“My family had declined to the point that the title of Count Croc itself felt shameful, and as winter approached, we were filled with fear that we might starve.”
“That must have been difficult.”
“Yes. That’s why, whenever another noble in Ujel hosted a banquet, my father did whatever he could to take me along. Even if we drew some cold looks, at least we could fill our stomachs. If you’ll excuse me, may I drink some tea?”
“Go ahead.”
“Thank you.”
After politely asking permission, Jean took a sip of tea, smoothly continuing his fabricated story.
“While eating at such a banquet, I was mocked by other noble children. It happened often, but as a child I was prone to tears. It was the same kind of bullying I always endured, but that day I simply couldn’t bear it. I was standing there crying with a plate of food in my hands when Her Majesty heard my situation and gave me some support funds.”
Marianne nodded to show she was listening.
“Perhaps it was a small act of kindness to Her Majesty, but to me it was an enormous grace. With that money, I was able to grow up without going astray and restore my family.”
“…My mother was soft-hearted and loved children. I’m glad she was able to help you, Count Croc.”
And she placed the final touch on the con. She deliberately let her voice turn lonely, and from behind her came the sound of someone sniffing.
The unexpectedly conscience-pricking sniffle made Marianne struggle to keep her expression composed.
“Yes. However… it is regrettable that it is all so late.”
Unlike Marianne, Jean Croc didn’t even blink. Instead, he murmured softly, wearing a faintly sorrowful smile.
“Still, I am fortunate to be able to meet Your Highness like this. The grace I was unable to repay to Her Majesty—I would like to repay it to you in her stead.”
At last, the main point emerged. Marianne forced herself to look surprised. After giving a small cough, she spoke.
“To me?”
Fortunately, the end of her voice trembled just enough.
“Yes. I believe Her Majesty would be pleased if I repaid her kindness through Your Highness.”
With a wistful smile, Count Croc drove the point home. Then, gesturing to the servant behind him, he had the treasure chest moved closer to the table.
“This is a gift for Your Highness. Having the honor of meeting you, I couldn’t possibly come empty-handed, so I prepared this in haste. It’s rather modest, but please consider it a small token of my sincerity.”
That huge, heavy box—and he called it modest?
Had the very concept of “modest” frozen to death in this world?
While Marianne barely swallowed a dry laugh, the chest was fully opened.
Gasp—and once again, the sound of someone’s surprised breath brushed her ears from behind. This time, though, Marianne herself made a similar sound, which was almost a relief.
Count Croc, however, pretended not to notice and began explaining the contents of the chest with a smiling face.
“Before coming, I looked into it and heard that the North is cold and barren. So first, I prepared some warm clothing that should withstand even northern blizzards.”
“Some…?”
Marianne stared dumbfounded at the dresses, shawls, and cloaks that servants were struggling to carry—maids having to help because there weren’t enough hands.
No, even with four hands you couldn’t count them all—some?
And contrary to his words, there were also piles of hats, gloves, shoes, and boots.
“What do you think, Your Highness? I used boutiques in cities near the capital, but… it’s a shame they’re ready-made rather than custom-fitted.”
“No. I like them very much. I’ll wear them gratefully.”
If she agreed any further, it felt like he might bring the boutique madam herself, so Marianne shook her head. Jean smiled broadly in response.
“I’m glad you like them. Now, let me explain the next gift.”
And with perfect composure, he invited Marianne into the next gate of gift hell. Trying to hide her slightly overwhelmed expression, she inwardly called out to the Margrave Hill.
She even imagined, quite naturally, an aide beside him wiping away tears.
‘Margrave Hill… your treasury is really okay, right…?’
