Chapter – 25
My wife, who used to teach me mathematics, often said something:
“Right now, it’s just about solving numbers, but if you become more skilled later, you could even turn stones into gold.”
At the time, I thought it was a ridiculous thing to say and brushed it off. But surprisingly, it was true.
The mathematics of this world was slightly different from the one I had known, so solving problems wasn’t particularly difficult. Moreover, every time I solved one correctly, I received praise. Gradually, the aversion I had toward mathematics as a student faded.
“Of course, I have no intention of becoming a mathematician.”
Still, when it comes to money, a person has to try everything. Besides, I couldn’t even go out properly, so I approached my studies with a “might as well try” attitude.
As a result, while I wasn’t able to turn stones into gold, I did manage to produce minerals similar to silver.
The problem, however, was that the “stones” in question weren’t ordinary stones.
“Magic stones.”
For alchemy, stones imbued with magic—magic stones—were necessary. Obtaining them wasn’t particularly difficult, but like gemstones, magic stones had grades.
The fortunate part was that the magic stones I needed to make silver or gold weren’t too expensive. Not cheap, of course, but still an amount worth investing.
I was pondering how to efficiently turn this into a source of income when Blake made a suggestion:
“Want to go into business together?”
“Business?”
“Yeah. Seeing how you work, I have a feeling you might fail quickly. I can help you make money without failing, and do it easily, using my information.”
Naturally, information is power. There’s a reason information brokers rake in so much money.
And since Blake was offering to help me, there was no reason to refuse.
What was puzzling, however, was why Blake would go so far to help me. He values information—and money—more than anything.
I asked cautiously, partly on guard:
“What are the terms?”
“50% of total sales.”
“…Total sales? So I cover the material costs and labor?”
“Fortunately, you understand. Normally I’d take 60% to make it worthwhile, but considering our past, I’ll settle for this.”
Blake was truly a terrible man.
“So… you don’t like it?”
Of course I didn’t. But what I disliked even more was…
“…There’s nothing you can do about it.”
After the deal was made, thanks to Blake, I managed to acquire a pretty decent mine. However, since the transaction wasn’t completely finalized, I kept waiting for news.
Though it felt cheeky to bring it up just to change the topic, the urgency allowed me some leeway.
I asked in a voice tinged with subtle hope:
“Why the mine?”
[I got the mine owner’s consent to sell it. But to have the mine completely under your name, you need your official seal.]
My lips curled in a small smile. The answer I had been waiting for.
“Under my name!”
Something in my name, fully owned by me. How could I not be happy?
But it was too early to fully revel in the joy.
I asked, concerned:
“The ledgers will probably say I invested money for business purposes. If it suddenly becomes mine, won’t people find that suspicious?”
Although I had come of age this year, all my financial records were in the hands of my aide, Herden, because I was still the Grand Duchess.
So, with Blake’s help, I was effectively doing a kind of “embezzlement.”
How?
By manipulating the ledgers!
“But using something that’s supposed to be under my name isn’t embezzlement, right?”
I convinced myself with that logic. Blake added reassuringly:
[Don’t worry about that. The name transfer is for later. Right now, we’re just keeping the original document with the seal separately, just in case. After all, it’s being bought with your money, isn’t it?]
He was right.
“That’s a clean deal, as expected.”
With large amounts of money involved, having official documents confirming it was mine gave me peace of mind.
[Anyway, I’ll visit the mansion with the documents in about a week. Don’t go anywhere until then. If any problems come up, tell me in advance.]
“Don’t worry, I have nowhere to go.”
[By the way, the travel fee is 5 silver.]
Money-grubbing, even as a ghost.
Although Blake had his faults, thanks to him, I no longer had to worry about the divorce paperwork.
“The mine is taken care of, and I’ve been slowly siphoning some funds.”
All that was left was to persuade Cideron to agree to a divorce. And to do that, one must start with persuasion.
But there was a big problem:
“Conversations only happen when you meet in person, right?”
Unlike me, a useless and idle Grand Duchess, Cideron had become the most popular man in the Empire and returned after seven years—he was extremely busy.
How busy?
“Um, Cideron.”
“…….”
“Cideron?”
“…….”
Even in the dining hall, he was too busy processing documents.
“If that’s the case, why come to the dining hall instead of just eating in your office?”
I wondered, but maybe he just wanted to eat in a proper place after seven years. His abilities may dull emotions, but they don’t dull pain.
“Let’s just eat.”
I hoped that someday, an opportunity would come. Someday…
A week passed in a blur, and I hadn’t exchanged a single word with Cideron.
“I’m doomed.”
“What do you mean?”
I mumbled into my pillow, and Mary asked:
“Your life, I suppose…”
“Ah, yes…”
Mary nodded absentmindedly while continuing to sweep.
“Why aren’t you asking more?”
I asked, and Mary replied in a hollow voice:
“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but no matter the worst-case scenario for you, would you be worse off than me sweeping here?”
Was she sulking? Mary was practically the only ally I had in this mansion, so I spoke a little timidly:
“Mary, that’s not what I meant.”
“I know. I was just venting. Anyway, what’s the matter?”
“Well… I want to talk to Cideron, but he’s so busy I can’t get a chance.”
“Maybe the master hasn’t finished organizing things since returning? Over time, it’ll settle naturally.”
“Exactly! But it’s not happening.”
“Huh?”
I shouted, and Mary’s eyes went wide. Ah, no.
“Hmm. I need to discuss something urgently. Any ideas?”
“Why don’t you just go see him?”
“Huh?”
“Are you still scared of the master? But these days, he even smiles kindly.”
“Which makes him even scarier.”
Mary tilted her head in confusion.
“Read that book yourself. How could you not be scared?”
I held back my urge to explain and said:
“Honestly, I preferred Cideron when he was a child over now.”
Mary’s expression turned slightly strange.
“That’s an unusual preference…”
Preference? Suddenly I wondered what she meant. I rolled her words around in my head a few times and finally realized:
I jumped from the bed, shouting:
“It’s not that kind of preference!”
What do you take me for?
Would I rationally view someone who might kill me? The child version of Cideron was truly better.
Seven years had passed, and memories were fuzzy, but back then, he at least expressed himself honestly.
His bored expression as if he felt nothing.
And now?
“Always grinning… well, maybe not grinning exactly.”
Regardless, he maintained a smiling face at all times.
But some smiles suit certain people.
“…Not that it’s unflattering.”
Behind the smile, who knows when he might decide to kill me?
Just imagining it gave me chills.
People might think as they watch me panic: Why are you scared of a future that hasn’t happened yet?
The answer was simple. The probability of that future happening was high.
Like a child fearing punishment from a teacher for not doing homework—an inevitable future.
Unless something extraordinary occurs, like an accident or a sudden change in education policy, the punishment will happen.
Similarly, as long as the heroine exists in this world and the sub-male lead Cideron exists, this future won’t change.
“And I’m just a shrimp among whales, about to get squashed.”
Ah, pitiful. Truly pitiful.
“And I’m here to avoid that cruel ending.”
At that moment, Mary called me.
“Um, ma’am.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t fully understand you, but… I want you to be happy.”
“Mary…”
I was genuinely touched. My chest felt warm.
Mary cared for me…
“If the ma’am is happy, even crumbs won’t fall to someone like me by your side.”
“…Mary, maybe skip the extra commentary in the future?”
Had she done that, my feeling of being touched might have lasted longer.
Mary, ever earnest, said:
“This is my charm, after all.”
Ah… yes.
True, if it were something I could fix with a word, it would have been done long ago.
“It is a charm, then…?”
No, not really.
“Are you going to see the master?”
Walking toward the door, Mary spoke:
“Well, probably…”
I ran my hands roughly through my voluminous orange hair and replied:
“Do well! I wish you luck!”
Seeing Mary clench her fist to cheer me on, I briefly wondered if I was heading into a battlefield.
Perhaps it was similar enough.
