TPRA 10

Chapter 10 – Rolling (1)

“Then, as an adult, what do you plan to do moving forward?”

Ireine had started bearing everything on her own at some point.
As if that were easier.
So Sierra thought the best she could do was simply play along with Ireine’s nonchalant attitude, and she usually let it slide.

“I haven’t thought about it yet.”
“…What?”
“Do you really think something’s going to happen right away? I haven’t even had my title conferment ceremony yet, so I probably can’t start working as a deputy immediately anyway.”

‘Is she trying to raise my blood pressure and kill me today?’

Sierra’s face flushed red with rising irritation.

“No, this won’t do. I can’t be the only one dying from high blood pressure. You’re coming down with me.”

Sierra pretended to grab the back of her neck dramatically and lunged at Ireine.

“You’re all here already. Sorry I’m late.”

At that moment, just as Ireine and Sierra were bickering, the door opened and a clear voice stopped the commotion.

“Oh, Michael.”
“Michael?”

Noel greeted Michael, who had interrupted the chaos.
Ireine, seeing someone who had once been a tiny child in her memory now grown much taller than her, asked back.

He resembled Noel in some ways, yet also felt completely different.

Noel had golden hair with a slight orange tint and light brown eyes, giving him a gentle impression at first glance.
But his features were overall strong and masculine.

Michael had the same light brown eyes as Noel and golden hair that shimmered like threads of gold, but all his features were delicate, as if carefully drawn.

“Long time no see, Lady Ireine. Are you feeling better now?”

Michael greeted her warmly with a priest-like gentle smile.

“You really grew a lot, Michael. You were already good-looking as a kid, but now that you’ve gained this sacred aura, it’s something else.”
“You never compliment me like that.”

Noel was dumbfounded—this was the first time he had ever heard Ireine speak like that.

“Thank you for the compliment. You’re still the same as always, Lady.”
“I can see why you’re considered the next High Priest. You’re gentleness itself.”

Ireine already knew Michael was the most likely candidate to become the next High Priest.
He was famous not only for his looks but also for his sacred speech, voice, and manners.
Those traits seemed to have pushed him into the position of top candidate.

“Next High Priest? The current High Priest is still perfectly fine, and I’m lacking in many ways.”
“Wow, and he’s humble too.”
“Please stop it.”

Even Noel, who adored his younger brother, found excessive praise hard to endure.

Still, thanks to Michael’s arrival, the heavy atmosphere had brightened again.

“Sierra, that little kid you used to make cry all the time has grown up like this.”
“Congratulations on your engagement, Sister Sierra.”

Ireine nudged Sierra, who had fallen silent the moment Michael entered.
Michael hesitated slightly before greeting her first.

A hint of awkwardness appeared on his usually calm face.

“I had something come up at the temple yesterday, so I couldn’t attend the banquet. I’m sorry for congratulating you only now.”
“…Ah, I see. Thank you.”

Sierra’s stiff response made Ireine notice the strange atmosphere.

She glanced at Noel, but he only shook his head—he didn’t seem to know the reason either.

“Ah… right. Sierra, did you completely cut things off with the young lord of House Weard?”

Trying to ease the awkward tension, Noel quickly changed the topic.

“It’s been a long time since that ended. Honestly, he was the one who kept insisting on meeting. It’s not like we ever promised a future together.”

Sierra replied indifferently.

The young lord of House Weard had been someone Sierra briefly dated before her engagement.
He had gone so far as to plan a wedding on his own and clung to her even after being rejected.

In truth, Sierra wasn’t the type to stay in relationships for long.
With the backing of House Lusher, her tall stature, and her beautiful, refined looks, she always attracted attention from men.
She received plenty of courtship and didn’t bother rejecting everyone outright.

So she had many brief, casual relationships, but never a single man she considered marriage material.

Like Ireine, Sierra had strong pride in her family and wanted a man who could properly support her when she became a duchess.
Of course, she was extremely picky, evaluating every detail because it was marriage.

“Good thing it’s resolved, I guess. He was even talking about marriage on his own. Anyway, you two must have met a few times at least. Sierra does attend the temple regularly.”

Oh.

Ireine, trying to help Noel by bringing up Michael and Sierra, suddenly realized the atmosphere had turned icy again.

She seemed to have carelessly said something she shouldn’t have.

“Ah… maybe not. So this is your first time meeting?”
“Ireine, just stay quiet.”
“Okay, I will.”

It was fortunate she wasn’t told more directly to shut up.

Sierra’s expression now was as terrifying as when Veronica was angry.

“Lady Ireine, please do visit the temple more often as well. Seeing you like this reminds me of when you were younger.”

Michael smiled a harmless smile that seemed to push away all hostility.

Since he became a senior priest, the number of absent worshippers had apparently decreased significantly—and now Ireine understood why.

“Michael, please pray a lot for me. I feel like God would definitely listen to your prayers.”

Ireine earnestly asked Michael, who was surely favored by the gods, for help.

Ireine couldn’t even close her mouth at the sight of stacks of documents and books piled so high they seemed endless.

Barely four days after returning from the Imperial Palace, she had been summoned back again.
This time, it wasn’t Leoni, but an administrator, Rodrick Welling, who had come to receive her.

Rodrick, meeting her for the first time, greeted her warmly and immediately led her to what would become her office.
The moment she sat down, he began bringing out various documents.

“These contain everything you need to know while assisting His Majesty. I stayed up for two nights specifically for you, so please make sure to memorize them.”

Rodrick placed a stack of papers on the desk that looked almost like a history book.
His face was bright with satisfaction.

He had decided to remember today as the best day of his administrative career.
At last, he could focus solely on administrative work.

Meanwhile, Ireine’s expression darkened.

She carefully examined whether he was subtly dumping administrative duties on her—but that wasn’t the case at all.

For a moment, she even wondered how this man was still alive.

“Are you perhaps a ghost? Are you handing over your duties to me after already passing away?”
“Thanks to you accepting the role of deputy, I’m still alive.”

He answered with a bright expression.
Half of it was sincere.

If Ireine hadn’t accepted the position, he might have truly worked himself to death soon.

“I heard you’ll be officially appointed as deputy right after the title conferment ceremony next week. Did you know?”
“This is my first time hearing it.”

Ireine wasn’t even surprised anymore.
She had reached a point of accepting everything as it came.

“He will likely announce your appointment at that event. You’ll begin working as deputy immediately after.”
“I can still go back to being a marquess, right?”

At her anxious question, Rodrick only smiled without answering.

It was a silent “that’s a foolish question.”

Ireine screamed internally at his silent smile.

“It would be best to hand over estate administration to your head butler or head maid, or hire an administrator.”

Advice born from experience.

Rodrick’s sympathetic gaze and pat on her shoulder felt sincere.

“How long have you been in the Imperial Palace, Sir Welling…?”

His greenish-blond hair looked dry and unwashed, as if he hadn’t properly taken care of it for days.

“Tomorrow marks exactly one month.”

“…I think I’ll pretend this never happened.”

“Lady Marquess.”

As Ireine tried to bolt up, Rodrick called her back meaningfully.

“There are only two ways someone appointed—or soon to be appointed—by His Majesty can leave the Imperial Palace completely.”

His expression turned solemn and somewhat sorrowful.

“Either you die from overwork, or your head gets cut off.”

He shivered as he said it, as if the thought of Kilian alone drained him.

“I’ll probably die from overwork…”

He had already foreseen his fate.

He didn’t have the courage to disobey or question the Emperor, so the former was certain.

“What a terrible employer.”
“Pardon?”

Rodrick panicked at Ireine’s bold remark and quickly looked around to see if anyone had heard.

“Lady Marquess, if you say things like that before your appointment as deputy…”

He trailed off and drew a hand across his neck.

Either way, the conclusion was the same—his head would roll.

‘I swear everything ends with losing your head.’

Ireine shook her head in exhaustion.

Kilian had the ability of a capable ruler of the empire.
In the early years of his reign, wars were frequent, but he always returned victorious without major losses.
He generously compensated citizens affected by war, so public opinion remained positive.

He also frequently introduced policies for the empire and its people, earning strong support.

However, he was cold and strict toward nobles and his subordinates.
As Rodrick said, if nobles made mistakes or displeased the Emperor, their heads could very well be gone.

Simply put, he was a tyrant when it came to nobles.

“My health had just recovered, and now it feels like it’s deteriorating from stress before I’m even appointed. I might die suddenly from worsening illness before I even die from overwork.”

Who would be happy hearing they might lose their head at any moment?

Ireine collapsed onto the desk in a pitiful manner.

“No, please stay healthy and live long.”
“I don’t think you’re worried about me.”
“I’m worried about both you and myself.”

Rodrick didn’t lose a single round in conversation.

At that moment—

Click.

The office door opened, and the last man Ireine wanted to see walked in.

“Found you.”