TNCFO 13

~Chapter 13~

The land of Rubenshire in the northwest of the kingdom belonged to the Duke’s House of Rubellot.

Said to be under the protection of the Red Dragon, this family was famous not only for its military power that far surpassed an ordinary person’s physical abilities, but also for its gold, diamond, and magic stone mines.

It was once barren canyon and wasteland—land supposedly given as an insult—but every time they developed it, expensive minerals came out.

Especially the discovery of magic stones, which had to be imported before, was a historic event for the kingdom.

Thanks to that, even though it bordered the massive monster habitat of the Setora Mountains, Rubellot territory became as wealthy as the royal capital.

By this point, the royal family’s envy had gone beyond mere jealousy.

‘Thinking about the nation’s development and the people’s stability… You’re not planning to keep it all to yourself, right?’

At first, they hinted politely.

‘We’ll keep it all. We’ll eat well and pay our taxes.’

…It didn’t take long for persuasion to turn into pressure.

‘We gave you military rights because the land was rough, and now you want to monopolize resources? At this rate, you’ll gain autonomy and declare independence.’

Even Rubellot couldn’t respond with “Maybe we will.” Instead—

‘Then you’ll also take on the duty of suppressing the monster population in the Setora Mountains and handling emergencies, right?’

—The royal family quickly bundled together various burdens and tried to dump them on them.

‘Here, these are the Setora Mountain suppression records, the last 5 years of knight order operating costs, and the defense and security maintenance budget. Oh, and if we’re breached, the next target is the capital.’

In the end, negotiations concluded with adjusted tax rates and the royal family getting partial priority in distribution and supply.

“That difficult task was accomplished by the Young Duke!”
“Wowww.”

Shariette clapped expressionlessly.

After the meal, it seemed the family wanted to chat privately, so she was guided around the mansion by the head butler.

The mustached butler kept talking nonstop about the “great Duke’s family and their proud Young Duke” while showing her around.

Shariette half-listened and half-ignored the stories, thinking:

‘The king must have really hated him.’

Maybe that’s why they tied him up with Argen, so he’d suffer a bit?

While memorizing the mansion’s layout, she thought idly.

“The room for you, Miss Shariette, has been specially arranged on the Young Duke’s orders. It’s sunny and spacious, so I’m sure you’ll like it.”
“Thank you, but the dispensary is better without sunlight.”
“Haha, I mean your personal room, not the dispensary.”

A room other than the dispensary?

Shariette tilted her head.

She couldn’t think of anywhere else she should be.

The butler also looked puzzled at the misunderstanding. He couldn’t possibly know she had considered a small cot in the corner of the dispensary her “room” for the past 12 years.

“I’ll see the dispensary first.”

The butler reluctantly led her downstairs.

To her surprise, the person waiting there was a familiar face.

“…!”

An oppressive feeling she knew well pressed down on her chest like a lump of iron.

Shariette took a deep breath.

It seemed the food from earlier was stuck.

“Eden, so you were here.”
“Yes, is this the person you mentioned…?”
“This is Miss Shariette Verdette. Miss Shariette, this is Eden Evans, assistant to Dr. Heron, the current mansion’s physician. Dr. Heron is away with the Duke in the territory, so for now, Eden will guide you.”

Shariette rubbed her upper abdomen. Her pulse was racing.

She must have really gotten indigestion from worrying about fork placement.

‘Why is he here?’

‘Lord Mathias, here’s the week’s report.’
‘Good work. How’s Shasha?’
‘After the eleventh, her vital responses slowed noticeably. You told me to keep her alive, so I’ve stopped for now.’

Though introduced as Eden, his real name was Franz—a researcher who worked under Mathias Argen.

He wouldn’t recognize her if he only knew “Shasha’s” face, but she recognized him immediately.

Her doubts about the subtle poisoning of the Duchess and Nixia were answered.

‘The skill to control dosage precisely without leaving traces… Only Argen could make such poison. The culprit is definitely him.’

But with Argen already ruined, why?

If it was revenge, why drag it out?

Her mind calculated calmly and quickly.

Meanwhile, Eden gave a perfunctory greeting to the pale woman sweating in front of him.

“I’m Eden Evans. I look forward to working with you.”

Of course, it was empty courtesy.

A young woman like this cured the Young Duke’s insomnia when he couldn’t? Impossible. Either she tricked him or got lucky.

‘Tch, pretty enough to warm his bed at least. I guess they’ll call that “treatment,” too.’

The woman, white as his own hair, wouldn’t even meet his eyes.

Trembling stiffly, she looked pathetic.

‘Afraid her lack of skill will be exposed?’

But the next moment, she looked straight at him and, instead of a greeting, said:

“Bleeegh.”

After the loud retching, silent cries, and quiet swearing ended…

Shariette insisted on making her own digestive medicine and rummaged through the dispensary.

As expected, there was no evidence there.

‘I’ll have to search his room or make him bring it out himself.’

She decided to start with what she could do for now.

‘Luckily, I can make the antidote with what’s here. First, I’ll buy some time.’

Throwing up had cleared her head.

“If this happens again, it will be a problem.”

Eden glared, speaking through gritted teeth.

“I don’t know where you came from, but don’t tarnish the Young Duke’s honor.”

Cough—Shariette almost choked.

An Argen underling talking about Rubellot’s honor? Ridiculous.

He couldn’t have reformed; maybe he was just playing his role.

“Yes, I’ll be careful.”

She casually held out her hand.

“I might use the dispensary when you’re not here, so give me a spare key.”

“…”

His olive-green eyes swept over her, then glanced at the spot where she had thrown up.

He looked like he’d rather die than give this crazy woman a key.

But with the butler watching, he had no excuse to refuse a reasonable work request.

Shariette received two keys—one to the dispensary, one to the medicine cabinet.

Eden warned through clenched teeth:

“Let me be clear—this place must never, ever be contaminated.”

Shariette nodded. She understood perfectly.

She also knew he was talking about order more than cleanliness.

If Eden—Franz—was a genius recognized by Argen, then she was the kind of genius even Argen couldn’t bring himself to kill.

At least in this space, in this field.

In a dispensary run by observation, measurement, laws, and calculations, order was everything.

And no one knew better than she did how to bait an Argen pawn into making a mistake.

Not that there were many left who knew—most were dead.

For even the head butler with 21 years of experience, the new physician vomiting in someone’s face was a shock.

But a loyal butler didn’t show it and continued his duty.

“To ensure you can come quickly when called, your room is placed near the Young Duke’s.”

Finally, it was time to show her room.

“Yes.”

So, be a diligent servant—got it.

Shariette was indifferent.

At least this was more reasonable than the Argen family shouting for her from the basement to the third floor.

But when the butler, full of pride, dramatically opened the door, she froze in place, mouth agape.

The butler twitched his mustache in satisfaction at the expected reaction.

‘I didn’t think the Young Duke would give her the room he’d prepared for two years.’

Well, whatever.

A room has value only when it’s used by someone.