Chapter 54
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A villainess locked away in a desolate tower—I had possessed her body. Chapter 54 The second special edition of "Safety Guidelines for the Haunted Duke's Castle," plus the launch of an insulated bottle inspired by our heroine Nadia! The insulated bottle rolled out smoothly and claimed a prominent page in the Imperial Newspaper. Of course, I hoped it would sell well! But my primary goal was to deflate the market bubble and ensure no one else fell victim to fraud. 'That's why I sent the bottle to Fabron Marquis the moment it launched....' I stared blankly at the Mage bowing before me. A Mage from the Magic Tower, suddenly appearing here? What did they want from me? Before that question could fade, the haggard-faced Mage bent at the waist and pleaded with me.
"My lady, please, I beg you—save us."
I'd woken at the crack of dawn and was exhausted, so this sudden crisis left me flustered.
"I'm sorry? Save you? What do you mean by that, all of a sudden?"
Had I somehow been killing them without realizing it?
"Well...."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"Right now, not just merchants but ordinary people are flooding into the Magic Tower in droves."
"What? But why...."
Wasn't the Magic Tower normally open to visitors for sightseeing? The Mage, sensing my confusion, elaborated.
"The influx itself isn't the problem. The issue is that they won't stop screaming for the Nadia Edition at all hours."
"But hasn't the Nadia Edition already launched? I understood the Magic Tower was doing everything possible to produce it."
The letter from the Magic Tower that arrived with the newspaper only mentioned things progressing smoothly, which made this even more bewildering.
"That's not what I mean."
The Mage began explaining in a somber tone. The crisis began immediately after the Nadia Edition's release. At some point, crowds began occupying the Magic Tower's entrance, preventing the Mages from making contact with the outside world. Moreover, whenever anyone who looked like a Mage appeared, they'd demand the insulated bottle so relentlessly that we couldn't hold out any longer.
"The Tower Master instructed us not to reveal the current situation to our benefactor...."
Transparent tears welled up in his eyes.
"But seeing the Tower Master trapped inside the Magic Tower for three days now, unable to leave or receive proper meals and rest—I couldn't hold back my tears. Please, I'm begging you, help us...!"
"Ah...."
An elderly person unable to return home. I exhaled a sympathetic sigh and propped my chin in my hand out of habit. Actually, as I mulled over the circumstances, I began to understand why this had happened. 'First, for those who knew about the previous tumbler craze, this was a golden opportunity.' Naturally, the Merchant Guild's attention would focus on the suddenly surging demand. Honestly, I couldn't be certain that no one was diverting products or hoarding them during distribution. Which meant... 'No matter how much I emphasized continuous sales, the initial stock simply can't keep up with the depletion rate.' I had gone through considerable effort to persuade the Empress to quell the chaos in the first place, but if things continued like this, all my efforts would be rendered meaningless. After finishing my thoughts, I cautiously asked the Mage.
"Is there any way we could increase production further...?"
"By the Tower Master's orders, all Mages have already begun manufacturing Partanium thermos bottles. There are no issues with production supply, but the problem now lies in distribution speed."
"Then...."
"There's no one to handle the customs procedures and related documentation required for shipments to various regions. That's why work has piled up...."
This was an entirely different problem from when I had said I would sell only a limited quantity of 100 units. A headache began throbbing dully as this unexpected situation descended upon me. 'I think I need to consult with the Grand Duke.' But he hadn't shown his face recently, claiming to be swamped with work. Just as I stood there, unable to grasp the situation and hesitating, the door suddenly burst open without a sound.
"Huh?"
Remarkably, the very person I had just thought of stood before me.
"G-Grand Duke, Your Highness?"
"...A problem has arisen."
The fact that the Grand Duke, who always observed proper etiquette no matter how urgent matters were, hadn't even knocked suggested something serious was indeed afoot. Actually, his grave tone alone was enough to convey that impression.
"What kind of problem...?"
But upon closer inspection, the Grand Duke's appearance seemed abnormal as well. The dark circles under his eyes were pronounced—he looked quite exhausted, to put it mildly. Surely his skin had been glowing ever since I gave him those blackout curtains?
"Letters sent to our family from overseas have made normal business operations impossible."
"What? From overseas?" ...Wait. Could it be...? I looked at him with an expression that said 'surely not,' but the Grand Duke's eyes had already told me everything.
"The letters came from people I've never even heard of—acquaintances of acquaintances of acquaintances—and every single one of them contained nothing but talk about the Nadia Edition."
Ah, um. So in conclusion, the launch of the Nadia Edition had sparked even greater competition.... I went pale, unable to steady my increasingly muddled mind. Ah, it had been so long. This feeling of being completely screwed. * * * "Cough, cough. This is the Nadia Edition...?"
At his wife's question, Fabron Marquis nodded and fed her a spoonful of warm soup.
"Yes, it has quite the remarkable features, just as you mentioned, my dear."
"It must have been difficult to obtain. Cough, cough! I'm truly grateful, my love."
"...No, my dear. This is only what I should do as your husband."
The Marquis remained by his wife's bedside for some time before finally rising as the day began to fade. Stepping out of the room that had held such warmth, his vision filled with the bleak interior of the house. The Marquis's residence was not far from the Capital, yet it stood on land so narrow it was embarrassing to call it a Territory. The mansion was not particularly large, and without sufficient staff to maintain it, Fabron Marquis and his wife resided in the annex rather than the main residence. Naturally, everything bore the marks of time's passage, worn and faded, while the furniture's design lacked any coherence—as though each piece had been salvaged from different sources. Yet the Marquis did not find this peculiar. Rather, he was acutely aware of his own poverty. And he knew, too, that he had brought it upon himself.
"Sigh..."
He retrieved a cheap bottle of liquor from the cupboard and began to drink alone, glass after glass. After draining a full cup, his face heavy with worry, he bit his lip. 'I'm running out of time.' He could no longer deny that his stubbornness was delaying his wife's treatment. He was a failure cast out by his family—the price of marrying his wife against their wishes. Before the marriage, he had been the child upon whom his parents' hopes rested most heavily; afterward, they had severed ties with him almost entirely.
"James, do you truly intend to defy your mother's command?"
"Yes, I am done with this! Done with a mother who cares only for money, done with this entire house!"
If he were to weigh his pride against his wife on a scale, the choice was obvious. If he merely swallowed his pride, he could arrange for Elena to receive treatment from a skilled physician in the Capital. And yet... Fear crept into the Marquis's shoulders as they sagged lower and lower. 'But if I do that, Elena will surely be wounded.' What use was a healed body if the heart became diseased? He could vividly imagine his family's contempt, their cruelty toward his wife merely for her origins. And Fabron Marquis dreaded it all. As he raised the brimming glass once more, a faint tremor ran through his fingertips.
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