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Chapter 86
Bread Thirteen. The Tower Built on the Swamp (6)
Ellie returned alone to the old shop.
Her feet felt heavy.
Malina and Hop’s looks — as if they had a lot to say — kept flickering through her mind.
They probably wanted to tell her not to give up or to urge everyone to pull together, but those were the last words Ellie wanted to hear right now.
She couldn’t answer that she would try to be strong.
Was I really this stupid?
Her head wouldn’t work; she felt hazy. She had no drive and felt listless.
Normally, when a problem appears you’d figure out the cause and fix it, but right now her mind was fogged and blank.
Even she didn’t understand herself very well.
Why was she so powerless when she was being picked on by someone who could be called her lifelong enemy? She didn’t even feel angry.
Of course it was what she’d expected to some extent, but still — it was strange that she couldn’t become angry.
The wooden door was locked tight, the same as when she left the house. She fumbled in her pocket, shoved the key in, and with a clatter the latch unhooked.
The first floor — which hadn’t been used in months — smelled slightly of dust.
She came and went daily, but since she left the place empty for most of the day, it couldn’t be helped.
This place was the first house Ellie had owned, her shelter and hideout.
…I never planned to stay here long from the start.
When she rented this shop she had believed the flow of the novel was absolute.
The little villain named “Ellie” who bullied young Irein had disappeared, but so what?
“Ellie” was a small, insignificant role that didn’t affect the story.
Ellie believed that once Irein grew older, she would leave the manor for some reason or another, earn glory through her own abilities rather than birth, and meet leading men who would love her above all — and everything would be fine.
So Ellie planned to stay in Rayad only until Irein finished the war.
After the war, when Irein returned, Duke MacClure would surely completely forget the daughter who had run away. They would be happy together — would they have time to think of Ellie?
Besides, Rayad was the safest place while the story progressed. Ellie planned to quietly hide, establish a business, and when everything ended, use that experience to move onto a bigger stage.
She had never thought she would fail.
After doing a little trade, she now understood how absurd such a plan had been. Scaling up proved harder than expected, and even if you thought you’d found a good position, a single ridiculous rumor could shake everything to the point of collapse.
Business could fail even when you’d done nothing wrong.
How conceited she had been as a child.
Ellie’s world contained only herself, so she could make simple, clear plans.
All she had to worry about was her own life and safety — nothing complicated.
I need to think…
When she left Demian’s villa she had been full of energy.
She had thought she could withstand whatever Duke MacClure did.
Looking back now, she realized why she could believe everything would be okay: because with Edmund, Van, and Maurice she felt like she couldn’t be beaten by anyone.
But now it felt like everything would collapse no matter what she did.
Staggering up to the second floor, Ellie collapsed onto the bed without even thinking to wash or change.
Even her dull, sluggish brain could tell that she was far from normal.
She had to pull herself together — think of a solution or do something.
“Poisoned Bakery.”
“The secret dangerous ingredient behind their popularity!”
“The reason for the addiction.”
A few lines of condemnation in the newspaper didn’t represent public opinion, but there would certainly be many people who read them and then spat at her.
She had once found joy and happiness in the exchange: someone eating what she made and saying it was delicious.
Now she was terrified that the face of someone who’d praised her — “I can’t live without your bread” — would flip and they’d point and shame her. She was suddenly afraid to look people directly in the face.
Whispers aimed at her by the oven, the ice-cold sneers that felt like they fell onto the crown of her head, the sidelong glances.
It’s just a trap. Just a rumor. I have allies.
Maurice was there.
Malina and Hop hadn’t abandoned her first.
Edmund and Van were surely on her side too.
But all of them were in trouble because of her.
What am I doing right now?
She had always found being alone comfortable, but now the chilly air around her felt dreadful.
Ellie curled up on the bed.
Malina stormed in and flung open the doors of the Mammoth Trading Company.
Maurice, who was sitting on the edge of a desk eating an Earl Grey scone, glanced at Malina’s grim face and said,
“Were you fired?”
“Yes! Fired! Maurice, what the hell were you doing, leaving Ellie alone…?”
“How long do you think you can go around calling her whatever you want when she isn’t there and not get caught?”
“Is this the time for jokes?”
“You should never lose the composure to crack a joke, you know.”
“What kind of idiot—?”
“Hmm. I don’t really know.”
Maurice burst out laughing. Malina stared at him as if he were a total maniac.
In truth, Maurice Herzog was one of the few people she knew who could be called that: always grinning, unreadable, sometimes chilling.
Maurice complained.
“Even if you don’t say it, I’m the one who wants to be with Ellie the most, right? But I’m a bit busy. One of the merchant ships I sent to Yan was attacked by pirates and sank. I’m swamped handling that.”
“Pirates? What pirates? Since when were there pirates off Rosso?”
“Exactly.”
There was only one sea for Rosso; it had a large port that could tempt empires, but it was used by so many countries that its security was tight.
Pirates usually preyed on sparsely protected coastal villages or far seas. The short route between Yan and Rosso was riskier than profitable; even pirates wouldn’t touch it unless it was worth it.
Unless it was worth it.
A fat pouch of gold and a promise not to be pursued would be worth it.
The loss was bad enough, and there was no guarantee it wouldn’t happen again.
“Honestly, I underestimated them. I thought if they were shown a backing they couldn’t handle, they wouldn’t bother. But I guess they weren’t scared off.”
“Who are you talking about? Never mind. Don’t say it.”
“Aren’t you curious? I could tell you everything.”
“I don’t want to know anything Ellie didn’t tell me. What matters to me isn’t who that person is or their status — it’s when she’ll open the bakery again.”
“Then treat this like my monologue from now on. Usually Fitz or Eddy would fill you in, but both of them are away.”
“……”
“It seems that fellow simply can’t tolerate seeing Ellie happy. I underestimated how influential he is in Rosso. I thought if I applied just enough pressure to make things unpleasant without drawing Demian’s attention, he’d bother her ‘on his own.’ So he couldn’t be easily accused.”
Duke MacClure had only reminded the mages’ circle of the tower and the Cronin family about “Ellie,” and didn’t apply overt pressure.
Simply making the existence known was enough.
Especially since Cronin, who knew who Ellie was, realized they could freely use MacClure without worrying about him, they had even less restraint.
Rumors themselves were no big deal, but even if they were resolved, Edmund and Van would be hard to retrieve.
Honestly, Maurice could do without them.
His connections to the tower lord were useful, but the “friend of the tower lord” title was what he wanted more than actual help — Edmund had rarely been practically useful.
Van needed no explanation.
It was better not to have a rival.
He wouldn’t refuse if Ellie asked for help directly, but there was no reason to act preemptively.
Still, Ellie being depressed was a problem.
“This kind of trick was mostly my tactic. It’s a weird feeling to be on the receiving end.”
Rumors could only be quieted with rumors.
They’d aim an event at the Autumn Festival, which drew guests from foreign countries, get praise for the event, and add the tower lord’s endorsement from abroad; a baseless rumor would quiet down enough.
It might be better to abandon Rosso and move to Yan for a while.
A foreign reputation is malleable if you spin the story right.
It wouldn’t be hard to package it as: the stupid citizens of Rosso didn’t appreciate a treasure and persecuted and expelled it, so she had to leave.
They’d quickly bring Ellie to Yan, then swallow up Rosso somehow.
Malina frowned and crossed her arms.
“Let me ask you something.”
“Hm?”
“I get that you were busy with the sunk merchant ship, and maybe you messed up because you were clumsy. Fine. But what’s this?”
“Oh. You noticed?”
“Notice? It’s obvious — his boot is practically on display. He didn’t even try to hide it.”
Seth Hastings looked up at Malina with tearful eyes.
Maurice smiled brightly.
“You’ve found my secret.”
“Don’t play coy, that’s disgusting.”
“Aww.”
“I’ll kill you.”
Maurice grinned and looked down at Seth, who was sobbing with his arms and legs bound.
“Look, I need to vent a little too…”
