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Chapter 14
To put it more simply, Criston was afraid of having children—afraid of letting anyone get too close to him.
For that reason, Criston had never made a mistake. He had never allowed a woman to come close to him.
Loella was the woman who stood closest to Criston’s life.
Of course, calling her “just a woman” didn’t quite cover it. Loella was exceptional in many ways.
Even after drinking beer the night before, she still showed up to work on time and submitted flawless documents. That alone proved it.
After drinking that much, she should have been resting—but Loella came in as usual, right on schedule.
It would be unreasonable to call her an ordinary person.
Criston found himself wondering just how far Loella could go.
Lost in thought, Criston spoke to Aidan.
“We’ll need to convene the Northern nobles’ council again.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“…Have Loella attend that meeting as well.”
“What?”
The unexpected order made Aidan ask back in surprise. Loella had demonstrated remarkable ability so far, but attending the Northern council was a different matter entirely. Most of those present were established nobles.
To put it bluntly, it was a room full of old men.
Although the era now encouraged recognizing women’s abilities and employing them, that wind had yet to reach the North.
Those old men still underestimated women’s competence. No amount of praise from Jaiman or Aidan would change that. Bringing Loella into such a place would be like throwing prey into a den.
“I’m not sure whether Miss Loella will be able to adapt, Your Grace,” Aidan said gently, choosing his words carefully.
“If this causes her to resign, the North would suffer a tremendous loss.”
“No.”
Criston replied with absolute confidence.
“What you’re worried about won’t happen. It’s about time those old nobles realized just how narrow-minded and stagnant they’ve become.”
On this matter, Criston and Aidan differed slightly in opinion.
Loella was not someone who would lose a power struggle against entrenched nobles—at least, that was what Criston believed after observing her.
“There’s nothing to worry about.”
That was why Criston was confident.
* * *
Attend the Northern council?
“I know this is sudden, Miss Loella. But His Grace believes it will be a good experience and would like you to attend.”
Aidan spoke with an apologetic expression.
Why though? Isn’t this basically a promotion? You always hear stories about executives fighting over whether their children get to attend meetings. The main wife and the mistress waging silent wars just to get their kids into the room!
I wasn’t Criston’s child, so of course this wasn’t about succession—but wasn’t I being acknowledged as a capable employee?
“…You look happy,” Aidan said.
“Of course! What should I prepare? What should I bring? I can’t believe this day finally came. Aidan, please don’t abandon me in there.”
“I understand. But may I ask what exactly is making you happy?”
“Being allowed to attend the Northern council means I’ve earned His Grace’s trust, doesn’t it? Wow! That means my abilities have been recognized!”
“…That’s true, but His Grace has acknowledged you for quite some time now. The Northern council isn’t exactly a field of flowers. It’s full of greedy old men.”
Aidan sighed with a worried expression, then earnestly warned me.
“No matter what happens there, don’t submit a resignation letter. Promise me.”
“A resignation letter? Absolutely not! That will never happen, Aidan. Don’t worry!”
I’d survived years of office life already. Memories surfaced of swallowing tears while working under terrible supervisors—verbal abuse, nitpicking over nothing whenever they were in a bad mood.
If even mild-mannered me had lost weight from stress, that said it all.
I’d endured years of that nonsense. Compared to that, one day with old men? Please. My mental strength had been forged in modern society.
Office life was never easy. I’d experienced all kinds of nonsense. Workplace harassment, unreasonable demands—those were everyday occurrences. Suddenly, the memory of a drunk supervisor ordering me to drive him home popped into my head.
Compared to that, dealing with old men was nothing. Absolutely nothing.
* * *
The moment I entered, the meeting room froze.
I could feel all eyes on me. Now I understood what Aidan had been worried about.
But whatever. It’s not like I was going to die. Besides, this was something the female lead had gone through in the original story too.
I walked confidently to Aidan’s side and sat down. Both Aidan and Jaiman looked at me with concern. The two had developed a sense of camaraderie after clashing repeatedly over work.
“If it gets too difficult, say something, Miss Loella,” Jaiman even told me.
“I’ll be fine. Still, thank you for saying that.”
The meeting began as soon as Criston entered. At first, I wasn’t the target.
Using the materials I had organized, Criston began tearing into the nobles mercilessly.
The amount of money they’d siphoned off was astonishing. It was a miracle the Duchy of Acrasia hadn’t collapsed over the past three years. Of course, as the male lead’s family, they possessed absurd wealth.
Just how many gemstone mines did the North have?
How many gold mines?
But regardless of that, they hadn’t even done their jobs properly. Every time Criston was away, they’d caused problems through sheer negligence.
I watched them get roasted with great satisfaction.
“I’m deeply disappointed. I don’t know how my late father can rest in peace. I believed you were loyal retainers working for the North—but to think things were this disastrous.”
“Ahem!”
“It seems the underlings made mistakes, Your Grace. I had no knowledge of this.”
Of course—there it is. The classic excuse. I didn’t know, my subordinates did it. Then they’d cut off the tail to save the head.
“If you managed your subordinates so poorly, then that is your fault as well.”
“Y-Your Grace—”
Criston didn’t budge.
With a cold expression, Criston let out a sigh.
“Still, if I punished everyone over this, heads would roll throughout this room.”
“…Your Grace!”
“Given how dire the situation already is, creating a vacuum through punishment would only burden the North further. So I’ll give you one last chance.”
In other words, he would wash the dirty laundry and reuse it. In a place like the North, where talent was scarce, that was the most practical solution—start replacing people one by one, beginning with the worst.
It was a method Criston had also used in the original story.
“But this document… the handwriting looks familiar.”
The most stubborn-looking elderly noble spoke up. With his goat beard, he had the look of a textbook villain—probably the first to get cut.
“Did Miss Loella write this document as well?”
“Is that a problem?”
“Of course it is! How can you be certain this is accurate?”
The old noble’s face twisted violently. His eyes burned with disgust and contempt as he glared at me, spewing hostility in my direction.
