chapter 11
In the vacant lot behind the new building, Etius’s subordinates who had gathered with the carriage were taking out hundreds of flyers loaded inside.
<Grand Opening of the Sistina Poorhouse>
It was an announcement for an event at a newly established poorhouse in the capital. The flyer stated that anyone who presented the attached coupon would receive a free food pouch and a camping kit.
“…Your Highness….”
The subordinates murmured excitedly, and Charon, after examining the flyer, spoke to Etius with a hardened expression.
“Thanks to the donations, we’ve built a warm base for the wounded soldiers to rest and have distributed padded clothing. However, we’re still short on military rations. The soldiers outside the base are still shivering in the cold. Those supplies are exactly what we need right now.”
It stung to have to rely on aid from a poorhouse, but if it could solve the immediate problem, there was no reason to refuse.
“The one who dumped trash into Your Highness’s carriage is despicable, but since this may be useful to us, perhaps heaven is helping this revolution.”
Under the moonlight, Etius wore a cold expression as he fell into thought.
“Who is sponsoring the Sistina Poorhouse?”
“I mentioned before that the Duke of Elemore’s family was preparing a poorhouse project. The Sistina Poorhouse is said to be funded by Elemore. Like other nobles, it may just be a vain pastime—or there may be another purpose. We don’t know yet….”
Charon continued with this unexpected explanation.
While large-scale ones like Sistina were rare, there were quite a few poorhouses in the capital.
Most of them were used as playthings for noblewomen and young ladies. The poor could receive help through their charity, so it wasn’t entirely a bad thing.
So it might not seem like a big deal, but—
“Elemore again.”
His lips moved slightly.
The face of a woman who had once stared at him with violet eyes filled with malice and mockery suddenly came to mind, and his brow furrowed.
A cool breeze brushed through, teasing his black hair.
When I arrived at the mansion, warm air and bowing maids welcomed me.
Heros took the warm shawl I had been wearing and followed behind me.
“….”
I wondered if he felt offended receiving that poorhouse flyer.
But I couldn’t think of another way. I could secretly toss a bag of money, but food and supplies didn’t work like that.
‘Still… he really was handsome…. If this were Korea, he could’ve become a chaebol just with that face.’
The way Eti looked at me with those deep eyes, pressing me lightly against the pillar wall at such close distance—
Thinking about it now, it had been a slightly dangerous situation.
If I had known about top-secret information, he might have taken my life on the spot.
The list of revolutionaries. A document tied to the lives of hundreds, thousands—
‘You should really keep something like that safe, Eti.’
Letting out a small sigh at the advice I never got to give, one of the maids shrank her shoulders even more.
She looked terrified, as if she were staring at a witch plotting something evil.
“Hmm.”
I stopped in front of her.
A scrawny girl who looked a couple of years younger than me.
Her clasped hands were rough, filled with calluses.
“….”
Come to think of it, the other maids were the same.
Their faces were dull, their clothes shabby, their posture constantly hunched.
They were called maids, but they were practically treated like slaves.
“After seeing so many beautiful things at the ball today, looking at you all is rather depressing.”
At my words, the maids flinched and lowered their shoulders even further, as if afraid I might lash out with a whip.
“So….”
With an elegant expression, I gave Heros an order.
“Make them presentable.”
“How should I proceed?”
“Start by giving them new clothes. And new combs. Oh, and provide oil for their hair.”
“Will that be sufficient?”
“Of course not. Feed them properly too. Their ghastly appearance is unpleasant to look at.”
The maids lying prostrate trembled again.
Then, slowly, they raised their heads to glance at me.
Heros checked my raised eyebrow and replied,
“As you wish, my lady.”
Not long ago, I had ordered their working hours reduced because I didn’t like the dark circles under their eyes.
Eight hours a day. Two days off after five days of work.
A schedule unheard of in any noble household.
But from my perspective, it was different.
A fourteen-hour day, six days a week—unacceptable for someone from modern times.
Leaving the maids behind, I spoke to Heros before entering my bedroom.
“Heros, you should also buy yourself some decent clothes. There’s no need to follow me around from morning to night. As I said before, stick to regular working hours. I hate being accompanied by someone exhausted and unsightly—”
“My lady.”
At that moment, Heros suddenly stepped closer.
His brown eyes wavered with something like sorrow.
Looking at me, slightly startled, he spoke.
“You are still very much like an Elemore… but lately, it feels like you’ve changed a little….”
My fingertips twitched.
Of course. Being around me constantly, he couldn’t help but notice.
No matter how much I tried to hide it with harsh words.
“…It makes me a little uneasy.”
His eyes, filled with me, trembled faintly.
Tch.
Sharp one.
“Then perhaps….”
I slowly reached out, grabbed his collar, and pulled him closer.
Gripping it tightly as if choking him, I stared straight at him. His brown eyes flickered in surprise.
“Shall I remind you who I am, Heros?”
Just like Katrin would—threats should be laced with clear malice.
Heros gasped and immediately apologized.
“I-I’m sorry, my lady. I spoke out of turn.”
I noticed his fingertips trembling, his cheeks flushed.
I slowly released his collar and spoke with dignity.
“I’m going to rest now, so go do your work. Don’t slack off.”
That should be enough.
“…But this….”
As I entered the room and was about to lie on the bed, I noticed the newspapers on the bedside table that I hadn’t read today.
Since transmigrating, I read the newspaper every morning, but I must have forgotten.
Well, I had been busy preparing for the ball.
[Montella Duchy Discovers New Eliadium Vein, Estimated Worth Tens of Millions Den]
My eyes sparkled at the front-page foreign news.
“Nice. My money….”
The Duchy of Montella was already a great place to live thanks to its natural environment, and now it was overflowing with resources too.
That was why I had moved more than half of my assets there.
It would be troublesome to move them after the revolution, and investing in undeveloped land or projects could multiply my wealth several times.
Having read the original story, I knew Montella’s mines would bring in huge profits in the future.
[The Grand Duke of Montella Expresses Gratitude to an Anonymous Noble Lady Who Made a Major Investment in This Development.]
No need to thank me. It’s good for Montella—and good for me.
Having money is always nice. Watching it grow is even better.
Grinning, I skimmed the next page.
Nothing particularly notable—except one thing.
The strongest underground organization in Oswell: the Scavengers.
Their leader, Jeffrey Whisler, had remained uncaptured for two years.
His wanted poster was printed there.
‘The Scavengers are famous….’
In Star of Revolution, I had found their story quite interesting.
They were a massive underground organization dealing in information, weapons, and dangerous goods.
Their leader, Jeffrey Whisler—because the emperor knew Jeffrey was aware of his weaknesses, he tried to wipe out the Scavengers and execute him, but neither succeeded.
‘They’re also the most neutral faction in the story.’
After Etius’s revolution succeeds, he contacts Jeffrey to borrow his power in subduing the remaining imperial loyalists.
What Jeffrey demanded in return was Etius’s left lung function.
The reason: the Scavengers, as a gray organization, viewed a “strong emperor” as a threat.
Etius managed to stabilize the political situation using the information he bought—but due to the drug that took his lung function, he lost the ability to run forever.
It would later become one of the causes of his rapidly declining health and eventual death.
‘If only I could contact Jeffrey first….’
Very little was known about him—only that he disguised himself like a ghost and had brown eyes.
I stared at the face in the wanted poster—likely a disguise as well—then folded the newspaper.
