Chapter 68
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Dear, I believe you may be misunderstanding.
Episode 68
"Ah, but what happens if one doesn't abide by that maxim?"
"Oh, you wouldn't want to know."
"Is it... dangerous?"
Selena whispered in a low voice with a mischievous smile, as if sharing a secret.
"The contractors are originally bound by magic that prevents them from carelessly speaking of it to outsiders. Their tongues stiffen and their mouths seal shut. That's why it's only permitted for Grace—the very fact that I can speak of this matter right now is something that shouldn't be possible in the first place."
"I see. Then... would it be possible to convey it in writing?"
"Oh, writing it down is forbidden as well. The act of thinking about it and drawing it out to the external world is itself controlled."
As if reading her thoughts, Selena quickly explained.
The mischievous smile still playing on her lips, she whispered to Grace.
"So, for the insiders—those who are the subjects of the curse—what do you think happens if they carelessly open their mouths?"
Grace's voice lowered as if she too felt the tension in Selena's secretive tone.
"...What happens to them?"
Selena deliberately paused for effect.
Then she whispered meaningfully into Grace's ear.
"They say everyone turns into beasts. I've heard it's irreversible no matter what you do. And then, at some point, without warning, they return to normal. Whether that period lasts a week or a year, no one knows."
Whiiiiing~!
For some reason, the familiar cry of an animal seemed to echo in Grace's ears.
* * *
"What did you say, Father?"
Norman, who had returned to the Estate, heard shocking news before he could even recount how he'd been treated at the Temple.
"What are you receiving from... Lucas Black?"
"A diamond mine. He's giving you that."
Capren Oellin spoke with a decidedly pleased expression.
Flushed from drink, he poured Norman a glass of wine.
It was wine that Capren, who had little interest in alcohol, had hidden away in the warehouse.
It was a ten-year-old wine that Marquess Songpri, whom he frequently associated with, had gifted him—cheaper than the one Norman and his friends had stolen and drunk before.
Come to think of it, that wine too had been a gift from Lucas Black.
'...No, but damn it. Is he in his right mind? Giving away a diamond mine?'
Norman was flabbergasted.
No matter how beyond imagination the Black Family's wealth was, how could he promise to transfer a mine?
"When he was young, he was such a burden, but now he's become so useful. Hehehehe."
Capren burst into laughter.
Had his father always been so quick to laugh?
Norman kept his mouth firmly shut, displeased that his father was in such good spirits because of Grace.
"Ahem, anyway. Norman. Isn't it about time you started looking after the family?"
Now the conversation's target had shifted to Norman.
Grace had always been the family's burden, but now Father was looking at Norman as if he were the Grace of the past.
'...That irritating woman.'
Norman clenched his teeth.
There were people one could never like, no matter what they did. For Norman, Grace was one of them.
He found her absolutely abhorrent.
He despised her without reason to like her, and loathed her without cause to respect her.
"How are things progressing with the Youth Council, Norman? You could become the next chairman, couldn't you?"
"That would be difficult...!"
"Norman! True ability means making the impossible possible! How can you say you've gained not a single vote after all this time spent mingling with those fools?"
The Youth Council was akin to a preparatory Nobility Council.
Comprised of roughly a hundred young nobles, it handled minor matters the Nobility Council overlooked while its members practiced for their future roles as councilors.
Of course, this was merely the surface function—in reality, it was nothing but a struggle for power.
The strongest families claimed the seats of honor, and the rest simply followed their lead.
Currently, the seat of honor was held by the Ruber Family, one of the Seven Ducal Houses.
Kisis Ruber.
A mere nineteen-year-old boy had the Youth Council wrapped around his finger.
The Ruber Family had produced many distinguished chancellors and administrators.
Though Kisis Ruber appeared somewhat scattered and playful in his demeanor, he was far from an easy opponent.
He was rumored to be close to the Serviente Family, and there was scarcely anything that escaped his knowledge.
No wonder everyone feared him—there were few nobles without secrets to hide.
'And he expects me to surpass such a man and claim the chairmanship.'
Kisis Ruber, the young Duke and Count of Arcmua, did not appear to harbor great ambitions for honor or power.
Yet he despised relinquishing anything he held.
'A chairmanship election? How tedious. Why would I bother? This seat is already mine, after all.'
Though spoken in jest, the lazy gleam in his eyes as he surveyed each noble in the Youth Council conveyed an unmistakable message.
He had no intention whatsoever of surrendering his position to another.
Ignorant of these circumstances, his father ranted relentlessly that Norman seize the seat, and Norman's insides churned with frustration.
"You can't even properly control the Minor Noble Council. You have far to go, boy. Tsk, tsk, tsk."
Capren, drunk on wine, clicked his tongue.
Norman's blood boiled. Whether at the Temple or at home, everyone treated him as inadequate—they were all fools.
He ground his teeth and quietly clenched his fists.
"Is our family's influence too weak? If that's the case, let's hasten your marriage to Princess Vivian. Once you become a member of the Royal Family, you won't be disrespected anywhere."
"Father! I've said I don't want that...!"
"Norman Oellin! Don't you dare talk back to me!"
A thunderous roar erupted from his father.
Norman clenched his fists and held his tongue once more.
He couldn't defy his father. Everything could fall apart.
'Sigh.'
Capren pressed his forehead as if his head ached, then softened his tone to coax his son.
"Do you know how much dowry comes with marrying a princess? Money begets honor, and honor begets money. Marriage is merely a means—don't concern yourself overmuch with it. Instead, focus on what you can gain from it."
"...Yes, I understand, Father."
Father's words were correct. There was nothing wrong with what he said, yet I felt no satisfaction.
Norman pretended to accept it for now.
"Look at Grace—she brought an entire diamond mine with her. Think of how much that girl, now a duchess, will be able to bring back to us?"
"...Ha. That woman certainly knows how to be useful. I wonder how recklessly she's been throwing that pathetic body of hers around."
"Norman, watch your tongue!"
Capren feigned severity.
"We don't need careless words spreading and ruining this auspicious occasion. Let's wait until the marriage is finalized, then we can discipline or chastise that girl as we see fit."
Capren too seemed troubled by Grace's conduct, adding the word "discipline" with deliberate emphasis.
Discipline. Yes. I had always favored that word.
Norman grinned crookedly and nodded in agreement.
Even if that wretched girl left this house through marriage, she would never escape the shadow of the Oellin name.
In this country, women's rights were inherently low.
Even after marrying and becoming subordinate to a husband, discipline from a father or brother brought no shame.
The law said otherwise, but conventionally, no one considered it wrong.
'...Though I hear that Wings organization or whatever it is has been running rampant lately.'
Wings was a gathering of women led by Princess Fresia.
Because she was so close to the royal family, everyone pretended not to notice, but the nobility harbored considerable resentment toward Princess Fresia's actions.
The Third Prince, who had lost the struggle for succession, felt the same way.
'One day my sister might destroy this entire nation. I worry about it constantly.'
Capren and Norman agreed with this sentiment.
Rumors even circulated that Princess Fresia was eyeing the next throne—it was infuriating.
How dare a woman aspire to the crown!
Such a thing must never come to pass.
"Grace should return tomorrow, I hear. We'll need to hurry with the wedding preparations, so there's much to do."
"Oh, is that so?"
Norman answered with a twisted smile.
The thought of eagerly 'disciplining' that girl again tomorrow made me look forward to it.
Capren, glancing at Norman, spoke quietly.
"Well...even if Grace is somewhat unreliable, receive her warmly this time."
"Pardon?"
"...Lucas Black—I hear he is very close with the Temple."
Norman furrowed his brow at his father's words and asked back.
"So?"
"Tsk tsk. To lack such perception."
Capren clicked his tongue again in displeasure.
This was the second time today.
Norman felt his mood plummet and clenched his teeth.
"Norman, you are currently in a position where you could face a lawsuit from the Temple. In fact, I hear that's what's planned."
"What, what do you mean? Damn it, what did I do wrong? I didn't steal the holy water—is merely entering that place a crime?"
"You damaged the guardian stone that protects the holy water when you entered. You didn't drink the holy water, but because you laid hands on it, the holy water became contaminated, or so I'm told."
It takes a full decade to accumulate enough holy water to fill a single chalice.
Of course, the Grand Temple keeps additional holy water hidden beyond what rests in the chalice itself.
Yet this does not diminish how precious uncontaminated holy water truly is.
"A nobleman who falls out with the Temple can never rise to the highest ranks, Norman. Becoming chairman is one thing, but even securing a permanent council seat would prove difficult."
Whether noble or commoner, when plague sweeps through the land, the Temple is the first place people seek.
Zeronium differed from other nations in this regard.
Whenever epidemic struck, the suffering grew all the more severe.
Natural disasters were no exception.
Zeronium's dry seasons were particularly brutal.
The bitter cold that returned every ten years was equally merciless.
When calamities beyond human power descended upon the land, the people turned to the Temple rather than the Royal Family.
Thus their influence could never be called insignificant.
"But Father, no matter how close their ties, would the Temple truly abandon its plans simply at his word?"
"Four years ago, when the great famine struck, the Eastern Temple was driven to the brink of annihilation by pirates and monsters. Do you remember?"
Norman furrowed his brow, searching his memory. Soon he nodded uncertainly.
"Yes, I heard that miraculously all the Temple's priests returned alive and unharmed."
"It was Lucas Black who commanded the rescue operation. They say he stormed in alone and annihilated the pirates."
"What? But that was the Crown Prince's knight order at the time...."
Ah.
In that instant, Norman had to bite his tongue.
Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org