Chpter – 37
“Are you really that grateful?”
“Yes, of course. Of all the moments since I was born into this world, I’m the happiest right now, Your Highness.”
“Hm. Really?”
Ah… guess I didn’t express my sincerity enough.
I forgot that nobles are a breed that demands genuine enthusiasm when receiving things.
And if the noble in question is a villain obsessed with utility, then all the more so.
“Hm… is that so? Then—”
“So I’ll show you my usefulness again this time, Your Highness.”
Lillian flashed a triumphant smile, not even realizing she’d cut off what the villain was about to say.
I’m being generous!
“I’ll bring the Pavil family’s information guild over to our side. I’ll scrape together every advantageous piece of intel and deliver it to you.”
This had to be the correct answer.
Hmph. This isn’t how it was supposed to go.
Ebren subtly furrowed his brow at Lillian’s reaction.
He had brought her to a place that wouldn’t fall apart.
He’d told her to pick furniture that would suit her, and even had a workshop built so she wouldn’t have to leave the area for twenty-four hours.
‘With this much, a normal human would feel comfortable, right?’
He had been planning to say something that sounded gentle, like last time.
‘Worrying isn’t the only form of kindness, is it?’
Not the kind you scatter toward everyone.
He was curious about the kind that only Ebren could have.
But before he could even bring it up, she started talking about being useful…
Ebren crossed his arms and turned his head away.
“Fine. If you’re saying you’ll prove your worth on your own, what do I have to lose?”
“By the way, Your Highness, where will you be staying—?”
Ebren pointed with his finger.
“My area is at the far right end of the garden.”
Lillian’s room was located at the far left of the garden.
The workshop cabin stood right on the boundary line running straight through the middle.
Lillian nodded in agreement.
“That seems helpful for emergencies.”
“Mm. Let’s respect each other’s privacy and get along.”
Ebren smiled, his eyes curving gently.
“Looking forward to working with you, my capable lifeline.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Lillian smiled back at him.
It felt like the brush of a butterfly’s wings against his chest—an unbearably ticklish sensation.
Cedric was being held in the underground prison of the First Prince’s palace.
Even if it had been on the Second Prince’s orders, he’d been involved in the illegal use of landmines.
Jeanne stopped Lillian with concern.
“My lady, it would be better if you didn’t see this.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“If that man begs and you soften your heart—”
“As if.”
Rather than softening, she’d been thinking about making a deal.
When they entered the cell, Cedric—his wrists chained above his head—lifted his head blankly.
“L-Lillian…? Why are you here…?”
“There’s no need for formalities. Let’s get straight to the point. Listen carefully, Jared.”
“M-my name is Cedric…”
“Oh? You’re still maintaining that identity? You might die at this rate, you know.”
“…What?”
“You’re not Cedric Bain. You’re Jared Russell from the Archive.”
“What are you talking about…?”
The man put on a foolish expression, but Lillian remained indifferent.
Don’t forget—this is Perniès, a land crawling with ability users.
Absurd things happen all the time, and believing appearances as-is will only get the back of your head smashed.
“The real Cedric Bain died in an accident five years ago. A landslide, wasn’t it?”
“N-no, that’s—”
“The Archive bought that identity and made excellent use of it, didn’t they?”
“…!”
“An unmarried noble whose body was never found is incredibly convenient.”
How do I know this?
Well, it’s tedious to recite background settings that were spelled out plainly in the original work.
“The Archive wouldn’t just hand over information without watching how the situation unfolds.”
“Uh…”
“And the one best suited to cleanly enter and exit a dangerous deal with a prince would be you—a high-ranking executive with top-tier disguise skills.”
“……”
“Jared Russell. Well?”
At this point, it’d be nice if he just admitted it.
I already know everything from the original story anyway.
No need to replay it all in my head and fill in the blanks.
Only then did Cedric—
No, Jared—roll his eyes and smile shyly.
“Ah, damn… this is the first time I’ve ever been found out. It’s kind of exciting.”
“Does that excitement disappear if you think about dying?”
“Hah… yeah, I guess so.”
Cedric slumped.
Even if the villain resolved this kindly, this man was still likely to be killed by the Second Prince.
His crime was embarrassing him.
“Well, how would I know the Second Prince would dump everything on me like that? Whew, scary.”
“You wanted a graceful exit anyway, so you whined and hovered around on purpose.”
“Heh.”
Cedric chuckled, his shoulders shaking, then gestured toward the surrounding shadows.
“Hey, someone peel off my face skin for me. Right here—see the seam at the temple?”
“Oh…”
“It’s itchy enough to drive me insane. People should talk face-to-face, you know.”
…Sigh.
Watching, Jeanne casually dug her fingernail into his temple and ripped it open like tearing bark.
The whimpering man vanished.
In his place appeared a man with sharp gray eyes tilted upward and a few strands of red hair peeking through.
He had a roguish, weasel-like look.
‘Perfect. Getting involved with this guy is exactly what I need.’
For what I’m about to do with Tillard and Pavil, I’ll need him.
Jared pressed his tongue against the inside of his throbbing mouth.
They’d dulled the pain as much as possible before the interrogation, but still—
He’d almost died.
“So… that powerless young lady actually awakened, huh.”
That was monstrous information.
Possibly the most valuable intel in the entire empire right now.
“Hey, miss. Even if you let me go, do you really think the Archive will side with you?”
“I helped you, and you betray me instead of responding appropriately? Go ahead. If that’s how you want to live.”
She didn’t look surprised at all.
“I already know all your safe houses. Even if you’re released here, I know at least five places you’d go, in order.”
“Hoh…”
“I told you earlier how you stole Cedric Bain’s identity, didn’t I?”
Right. She’s astonishingly sharp.
And the way she tightens people’s nerves is… addictive.
Just then, Lillian dropped several sheets of white paper at his feet.
“What’s this?”
“Artifact drafts.”
Jared tried to frown, then stopped because it hurt.
But once he looked at the designs, his eyes widened involuntarily.
The Archive dealt with artifacts often, befitting an information guild.
Small-scale artifact craftsmen would sell drafts to make money.
‘But this level of skill… I’ve never seen it. No—wait.’
Jared forgot he was a prisoner and got excited.
“This—this is the Iris Tillard style, isn’t it? A new piece? The way power flow is structured around natural motifs—that’s their signature, right? Am I right?”
“……”
“Did this come from the Tillard family? If this is an unpublished Iris Tillard draft, that’s insane. It’s even better this time—look at those smooth curves—”
“Thank you for recognizing my style so quickly.”
“…Huh?”
“First time in my life I’ve been praised in a prison cell.”
Huh?
Jared looked up at Lillian.
“I’ll tell you my terms. Approach Iris and sell these drafts.”
“……!”
