CH 15

I’m sure they’ll understand. Aicila thought casually. She believed they were still animals attempting to maintain a human mask.

As it turned out, though, that did not appear to be the case. Even their human facades have been abandoned.

Pretending not to know the meaning of it*, the carriage of the House of Count Artes waited in front of the mansion of the House of Duncan, unwilling to give up. Even as the sun sank below the horizon and darkness crept upon the sky.

(TL/N: This was written as ‘축객령’ which means ordering/asking the guest to get out.)

“Are they still waiting?”

Mitchell nodded briefly towards Aicila’s question. Her sincere lady had a productive day, meticulously reviewing the books submitted by the top three authors in the 3rd quarter of this year.

If you omitted the fact that Aicila Duncan’s demands made her feel like she was going to die every day, she would make the perfect boss.

So long as the most important point, the occasional mishaps, is ignored.

Mitchell, who had an inkling that the beautiful lady in front of her was about to commit a catastrophic disaster, wore a ‘delicate secretarial smile’.

“It looks like the number of cases where reporters have asked are increasing. For the yellow press, the feud between the Houses of Count Artes and Duncan is a juicy story.”

Ronell Artes’s mistreatment was public knowledge, yet the media offered little insight into the child’s plight. In the Edeka Empire, ‘illegitimate children’ do not exist, thus, it was an extremely sensitive topic to broach.

But there’s another reason why they’re working so hard to shine the spotlight on something else.

It’s because someone going by the name ‘Duncan’ has been rude to the nobles of a prominent family.

“Shall we tear down the media in advance?”

At her question, Aicila reached out and took out a cigarette. Approaching the window, the woman lit the end of the cigarette, hu, and she smiled brightly.

“No, leave it alone.”

“……”

“The media has to filter this out, too.”

“If you drag it out too long, the conflict between the nobility and bourgeoisie will intensify.”

Aicila pulled her lips and smiled. Her harsh grin beamed with callousness.

“So what?”

This country is going to be a mess… Of course, Milady will still be rich, and I’ll keep my job.

Long live Duncan’s wealth. Mitchell kept the secretarial smile on her face.

The first thing Mitchell did when waking up the next day was to run to the window to see if the carriage of the prestigious family had left.

“They don’t even eat breakfast, do they?”

The appearance of the carriage, which had not moved from its spot, prompted her to click her tongue. As Mitchell ran past her side, Aicila muttered.

“Leave it to that unemployed man in the house. I want you to show Baby around the mansion today.”

The little girl will surely tremble as soon as she sees Artes’s crest engraved on that carriage. In response to Aicila’s implied instruction that the child be kept from looking outside, Mitchell nodded.

Even though Mitchell had kept her presence of mind through the myriad of accidents her employer had committed up to that point, upon seeing the morning’s newspaper delivery, her mask finally gave way as she audibly groaned.

[How far up in the sky does Duncan’s haughtiness reach!]

It was really an excessive headline. The summary of the article, which condemned the Duncans for ignoring the nobles, ran as follows.

The only thing you guys have going for you is a lot of money! Mind your manners, you rotten super rich punks!

Aisa, who passed the newspaper to Mitchell, smiled, hoho, and she bent her eyes. The middle-aged woman’s eyes were filled with an unexpected pleasure.

“I didn’t know there were still idiots who would ignore Duncan’s wealth.”

“…A lot of money is everything.”

“Of course.”

Not at all. Just having a lot of money doesn’t make you a big deal!

While Mitchell held this view, she also knew from personal experience that Aicila Duncan was rich enough to make the adage ‘a lot of money is everything’ true.

As she expected.

When Aicila read the newspaper condemning her, a soft giggle escaped her mouth. Perhaps in her head, there was a list of media outlets that needed to be smashed apart.

In contrast to the scary thoughts racing through her mind, a very tender voice emerged out of her curled lips.

“Is Baby doing well?”

“Yes, I heard she bathed the cat this morning.”

“Oh my gosh. How the f*ck did that take a bath so calmly?”

“The cat is taking a nap right now, so it seems that she went to Sir Teriot’s study to play.”

“What about the trash at the front gates?”

It’s still there. At the answer, Aicila twirled the cigarette in her fingers.

Dark green smoke rose from the end.

“And, Milady. His Highness the Crown Prince has contacted you.”

“I was wondering when it would be.”

Aicila reached out and activated the special communication device that connected directly to the Crown Prince. Holding Mitchell still with her eyes as she was about to leave, she began to tap the desk with her finger.

The lark-shaped special communicator was a device that clearly transmitted the voices of one another. Once the line was established, the bird’s original gold color changed to silver.

【Ash.】

A mournful voice filled with sighs rang out. The crown prince and the sole heir to the Ederka Empire. It was Lyseltine Maximilian Cesar Lou Ederka.

【Aicila Duncan—! Didn’t you promise earlier this year that you’d cause less trouble! That! Was! My! New Year’s wish!】

“Oh my, how unfair. I have been quiet. There’s just trash rolling around and polluting my front gates.”

She could hear a crashing sound from the other side. Mitchell, imagining the similarities between her own facial expression and that of the Crown Prince, found herself unexpectedly feeling compassion for the future ruler of the empire.

Lyseltine’s whiny voice changed in a flash, and it turned into a cold tone.

【Therefore. Why are you treating Artes like that?】

“Because I’m a free-spirited woman who only believes in money?”

【Well, it certainly seems like the nobles are selling that line hard.】

Lyseltine laughed dryly at the quip that Aicila made in jest.

Aicila Duncan may be someone who lives by the mantra ‘it’s best to have more money’, but he has a good grasp on the fact that she is a methodical thinker who would carefully plan her next move before putting them into practice.

It was because the House of Duncan had seen enough of her shenanigans that they did not have a preconceived notion of who she really was.

On one occasion, Aicila gave him 3,000 gold for him to keep silent for 30 minutes. She had given him all of her pocket money for whatever reason, and he accepted it without question. Never in a million years did he think she would actually spend those 30 minutes digging around in the Crown Prince’s palace.

That day, Aicila Duncan found a spy from the Fernburg Kingdom in the Crown Prince’s palace and smiled excitedly when she saw Lyseltine’s pale face. What was even scarier was that it took exactly 28 minutes and 15 seconds to unearth and capture the spy.

Lyseltine, who was fully prepared to shout as soon as 30 minutes had passed, could do nothing but feel relieved.

I can still vividly feel the lethargy of that moment…

【So. What’s going on?】

“Did you know that the House of Count Artes has an illegitimate child?”

Ah, I heard there’s one. Agnes, his fiancée, pitied Countess Artes and passed on the rumors to the socialites.

“She’s a Duncan, not an Artes.”

【…Yes? Pardon?】

“I can’t say for sure whose child she is, but she’s definitely part of Duncan’s direct line. I, Teriot, and Grandpa think that she’s a Duncan. The problem is that Artes has the audacity to try and take a child of Duncan back and abuse her.”

Mitchell bit her lip so that she wouldn’t scream at the newfound knowledge, and the Crown Prince’s brief groan could be heard from the other end of the communicator.

Aicila smiled, placing the cigarette in her mouth. Between her red lips, a green plume of smoke rose.

“What to do.”

【Please don’t kill them.】

“The sooner the garbage is removed, the sooner I can eliminate the stench. Aren’t your ears still hurting from all that barking?”

【If you kill them! I’ll be! In trouble!】

Upon hearing his hysterical scream, she spoke back to him with a rough, chilly tone.

“You know how much tax the Duncans are paying for Ederka.”

【……】

“Time to pay up, my dear crown prince. Take care of it yourself.”

【Money is not the issue— so are you really going to kill them?!】

When Aicila maintained her silence, Mitchell and Lyseltine waited anxiously.

If it’s up to her to make trouble, it’s up to the both of them to clean it up. Please let it be at a level we can handle! Mitchell groaned inwardly, earnestly praying.

Beyond the communicator, Lyseltine let out a brief sigh, and then he spoke in a faint whisper.

【I don’t care how you treat them. The nobility and bourgeoisie are always at odds with one another, so it’s okay to explode. Contrarily, from my perspective, I’d like it if you explode ‘now’.】

“……”

【But Aicila Duncan. Do it as little as possible for me to protect you. If you kill them, I cannot guarantee your safety.】

Simply put, it’s okay to create a mess—make it a mess—so long as it stays within repairable bounds.

Deciphering the Crown Prince’s eloquent words, Aicila opened her eyelids only slightly.

Those sc*ms, Artes, they’ve never been this brazen. If they didn’t have any care in the world for her till now, they would have let her go.

The image of the child shaking with terror because she didn’t want to return kept playing over and over in her head.

She chewed on the tender flesh in her mouth to control her rising anger. The more she thought about it, the more enraged she grew, up to the point where she felt like she would lose her mind.

Now that I’ve taken her away from the family that abused her, how can they stretch out their dirty hands to return her? Don’t those motherf*ckers have any shame?

As she contemplated ending Artes, glints of fire flickered in her red eyes.

Ah. I can’t.

Since the Count, seemingly possessed by a ghost, is determined to keep up this unseemly protest, she will have to escalate the situation here; with moderation, of course. It was Aicila Duncan’s preference to end things in a spectacular and dramatic way rather than keeping it low key.

Right, I can’t be content with just leaving them on our doorstep. Aicila’s lips curled into a grim smile.

“Mitchell.”

The secretary quickly responded to the sudden call.

“Did you call me, Milady.”

“Sprinkle salt on the trash outside.”

“Yes?”

【Hey hey, you rich little troublemaker girl. The Artes family isn’t dead yet*…】

(TL/N: Since it’s a tradition in the Fernburg Kingdom to sprinkle salt on the dead, in case you don’t remember.)

Lyseltine continually begged her to reconsider, hoping to talk her out of it.

I know I told you it was fine to stir things up, but not like this, please. The appearance of insulting a prestigious family is not good for anyone to see.

“It’s okay, I only sprinkle salt on demon-possessed humans.”

【It’s not okay! IT’S TANTAMOUNT TO TELLING THEM THAT THEY’RE INFERIOR!!】

“Erm, Milady. The salt in Duncan Mansion is the pink rock salt from Mount Wire in the Ekina Mountains, it’s the finest salt in the world and it costs around 200 gold per spoon.”

Mitchell attempted to dissuade Aicila, but she didn’t even budge.

“It’ll be less noisy than if we used a cheap one. Sprinkle it.”

【The sprinkling itself is the problem! Do you want to waste such an expensive salt like that!】

“Is it a waste?”

When Aicila tilted her head, Mitchell was convinced that the Crown Prince was momentarily taken aback. Even though the device could only transmit sound and not any images.

F*cking rich family’s daughter… Regardless of whether Lyseltine was grinding his teeth or not, Aicila muttered sweetly.

“No, well, it is a waste to throw it on garbage.”

【……】

“But, who cares?”

While Lyseltine grieved, Aicila’s black eyelashes fluttered.

【Do you really believe that having a lot of money would make things okay!】

That’s the dumbest thing in the world. As Mitchell recalled her morning troubles, Aicila replied with her eyes bent beautifully.

“I agree on that.”

【FROM WHOM DID YOU LEARN SUCH ECONOMIC IDEAS!!】

“Grandpa.”

And who was Aicila Duncan’s grandfather?

Reinhardt Duncan, the richest man on the entire continent. When he remembered the grand words used to describe Reinhardt Duncan, Lyseltine groaned.

Ignoring her childhood friend’s commotion on the other end of the communicator, Aicila tapped on the window and pointed her long, delicate finger towards Artes’s carriage.

“That’s why. Sprinkle it.”