TPES 28

Chapter 28

Lately, the atmosphere in the household had felt strange. Rose and the Countess had grown unusually quiet, and Father’s mood seemed worse than ever.

“Something feels off. Did something happen at home?”

When I finally asked about what had been bothering me for the past few days, Tonin answered as if it were nothing.

“Didn’t you know? The Count scolded Miss Rose a few days ago.”

“Why?”

“Well, um…”

Tonin looked like she couldn’t be bothered to explain, but at my insistent stare, she continued anyway.

“Miss Rose cried in front of the maids, saying that Miss Espin was ignoring her. And when the head butler corrected her and said that wasn’t true, she shouted ‘Hey!’ at him. The Count happened to see it.”

“Is she an idiot?”

“Probably.”

I knew Rose was openly ill-natured, but I hadn’t realized she was this foolish. How could she do something like that in the mansion? And to the head butler, of all people—someone Father trusted. In a way, it was almost impressive how bold she was.

“Oh.”

As if something had just occurred to her, Tonin stood up, checked the time, and left the room. She soon returned carrying a tray with a glass of water.

“What’s this? I didn’t ask for it.”

“It couldn’t be helped.”

Tonin gulped down the water she had brought herself and then held out the empty tray to me.

“It’d be strange if I were just holding a piece of paper.”

Between the tray and the cloth covering it was a paper envelope. Information from Robert.

“Where on earth did you get this?”

I asked out of simple curiosity, but Tonin didn’t answer.

“Trade secret.”

“Fine.”

I had expected she wouldn’t tell me so easily.

When I opened the envelope, the information I’d asked Robert to gather was inside.

“As expected.”

It was so neatly organized that the word slipped out the moment I saw it. The contents were even more detailed than I had requested.

“Oh.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing. But Tonin, there’s one more thing I’d like you to do.”

“……”

Her forehead might as well have had I don’t want to written on it. To motivate her, I immediately pulled out a banknote I’d tucked between the laces of my dress.

“Just say the word. This is my job, after all.”

“Find someone for me. It’ll be very easy.”

Having taken the money, Tonin smiled in a way I’d never seen before.

* * *

“Haha, just how much money is this?”

Count Monzas laughed loudly as he looked at the cash piled up in his safe.

He had sold only two paintings, yet he already had 450,000 Ritas. It made him feel full even without eating.

The auctions were growing larger by the day, and public interest was soaring.

People were clamoring everywhere to be invited.

Foolish nobles.

They spent money greedily without even knowing what was real and what was fake. Thanks to them, the Count was making a fortune, though he still found them pathetic.

“My lord, you said you had an errand for me…”

“I want to discreetly purchase jewels and gold.”

“I’ll look into it.”

“Good. I’m counting on you.”

After selling just a few more pieces, the Count planned to leave this country.

While studying abroad in the Kingdom of Bornor, he had already prepared a new identity there.

Since Bornor was not on particularly cooperative terms with the Lumenia Empire, they wouldn’t be able to chase him even if he fled there.

His family had long since crossed over under the pretense of traveling.

If he converted the money earned here into gold and jewels, and finally auctioned off this very estate, he could make a huge sum. With that money, all he had to do was prepare for a new life.

“Making money is far too easy.”

The Count rose from his seat and opened a door behind his room.

Inside, relying on the light coming through a small window, was a man painting. That man was his half-brother, Orson.

“Is it finished? If you don’t finish it like last time, I won’t let it slide.”

“S-sorry. I’ll hurry.”

Orson trembled as he moved his hands quickly. Still, it was fortunate that he had inherited some talent from their father—he could imitate almost anything right away.

“No. That’s not the color. You should use blue there.”

“But… Melchaski’s works don’t use blue—”

The Count struck Orson hard on the head.

“Do you think I don’t know that? That’s exactly why I’m telling you to use it. Unique pieces sell for more. I told you not to talk back. Even if I studied, I studied more than you. Don’t act like you know better than me—I’m the one who even studied abroad.”

He had been an irritating younger brother since childhood. Every time he saw Orson—born from an affair, yet identical to their father in looks and talent—his anger flared.

And that aesthetic sense Orson possessed, the kind that couldn’t be learned no matter how much one studied. Damn it all, only Orson had that instinct.

Realizing he felt inferior to someone like Orson drove him mad.

“S-sorry, brother.”

The Count raised his hand again.

“Brother? Who do you think you are, calling me that? You’re too lowly for us to be brothers.”

“I-I’m sorry, my lord.”

Orson’s mother had been a swindler. A woman who stole all of their father’s money.

The family’s downfall was all because of her. So Orson had no right to resent being treated this way.

“Get back to painting. It has to be ready before the auction.”

Leaving only that command behind, the Count left the room. Watching his retreating figure, Orson swallowed his rising tears and focused once more on the painting.

* * *

“The Duke of Holt has arrived.”

“Let him in.”

The Crown Prince set aside the documents he had been reading and moved to the sofa.

“I pay my respects to Your Highness, the Crown Prince.”

The door opened, and Trevis entered with measured steps. After offering a restrained greeting, he remained standing.

“Sit.”

Only then did Trevis take a seat, and the Crown Prince felt irritation rise.

He was disgustingly perfect. No matter where one tried to find fault, there was nothing to criticize.

“……”

Trevis did not ask why he had been summoned so suddenly. He knew all too well that when a sovereign commanded it, a vassal had no choice but to obey.

“The reason I called you today is this. Father said I should discuss your marriage with you.”

Trevis was the son of the late Emperor and the nephew of the current Emperor. When the former Emperor passed away, his younger brother ascended the throne according to the will—but by tradition, many believed Trevis should have become Emperor instead.

Even now, there were still those insisting Trevis should take the throne.

If he were to marry the daughter of a powerful family…

The already unstable imperial authority would weaken even further.

“I have not given it any thought yet.”

“You’re of marriageable age now. It’s about time you started thinking about it.”

“Yes. I will begin considering it.”

“Here. I’ve put together a list of suitable candidates.”

The Crown Prince handed him a prepared list—ladies from families with titles but little real power, and with less-than-stellar reputations.

“Thank you.”

Trevis accepted it without even glancing at it, as though he had little interest.

“You should marry soon and bring stability to the ducal house.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Shall I step in personally and find you a match? I’ll find you a partner to attend imperial banquets with.”

“……”

Trevis pressed his lips tightly together.

For years, he had barely shown his face at imperial banquets, and he had never once brought a partner with him.

“At your age, you should be bringing a partner. Otherwise, it won’t be you who gets criticized—it’ll be the imperial family. You know that, right?”

“I apologize.”

“I’ll find you a suitable partner.”

If he pushed through the Duke’s marriage at this opportunity, that would solve everything.

Just as the Crown Prince was searching his mind for a lady from an appropriate family, an unbelievable statement came from Trevis.

“I already have one. A partner.”

“What? Who?”

“A young lady from the Leon family.”

At the unexpected name, the Crown Prince’s mouth fell open.