Chapter 71
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I possessed the body of a villainess locked away in a desolate tower.
Chapter 71
—In the Imperial Capital of the Cletan Empire, at the Crown Prince's Residence.
"Hmm."
Straight fingers flipped through a few pages of documents before losing interest and dropping them away.
Most of the papers scattered across the large desk received the same dismissive treatment.
Even sitting still, Lyden's visibly disinterested expression radiated an oppressive aura that weighed down anyone in his presence.
"Ahem...."
After clearing his throat once, Ludwig Duke bowed deeply again with earnest sincerity.
"Your Highness the Crown Prince, might we not recall the cavalry dispatched to Salt at this very moment?"
"What nonsense is this, Duke Ludwig?"
There were many reasons, but... would the Crown Prince, who couldn't hide his autocratic nature even beneath a mask of benevolence, ever accept it?
The elderly duke, his hands clenched rigidly, began his explanation slowly.
"We have maintained a long-standing friendly relationship with Salt. Until now, neighboring nations fearful of Cletan's might have ceased their grain trade with Salt, but the moment signs of invasion appear, they will grow wary that the arrows may turn toward them as well."
"Isn't that something that will happen regardless?"
"However, Your Highness...."
Lyden waved his hand dismissively through the air.
At his attitude of being too bored to listen further, Ludwig Duke's mouth fell silent.
"Duke Ludwig. I have done nothing yet."
"...."
"What I aim for is this: the frightened King of Salt surrendering everything of his own accord. I too have no wish to see my precious subjects of the Empire harmed."
Ludwig Duke did not believe those words.
'To His Highness, the Empire's people are merely a single grain of wheat to fill his ambitions.'
Yet he could say nothing more, and so he had no choice but to withdraw.
Not long after.
The doors to the audience chamber opened once more.
"Thank you for granting me an audience, Your Highness."
The man who walked forward with careful, measured steps was none other than Stefan Marquis.
Toward the man who bowed with courtesy, his bushy beard framing a radiant smile, Lyden's cold voice descended like a blade.
"What is this about?"
Had Ludwig Duke, who had just left, disturbed his mood?
Seeing the Crown Prince's visibly sharpened nerves, Stefan Marquis could only flash an even broader smile.
For today, he too could not possibly retreat.
After a long wait, standing before the Crown Prince, his eyes burned with resolute determination.
'I must persuade His Highness the Crown Prince at all costs.'
The Stefan Marquis House was an ancient, distinguished family that had passed down the trade of "luxury goods sales" for generations, dealing exclusively in expensive luxuries for the nobility.
Yet recently, the family's warehouses had emptied, and the vast wealth accumulated by their ancestors had begun to dwindle to nothing...
They had reached a point where the Stefan Marquis House's resources alone could no longer revive their collapsed enterprise.
To such a degree that Stefan Marquis, who had once flourished, now had to bow his head before the Crown Prince.
And the source of all this calamity was....
'Damn that Blaire Grand Duke!'
Stefan Marquis ground his teeth silently, then straightened his shoulders and fixed his gaze upon Lyden. With an expression of utmost sympathy, he raised his voice.
"Your Highness the Crown Prince, the ventures currently undertaken by the Blaire Grand Duke House are destabilizing the Empire's market order!"
At his words, Lyden—who had been resting his chin on his hand with an indifferent expression—lifted the corner of his mouth in a slight smile.
"Destabilizing the market order, you say?"
The hint of interest woven through his otherwise dry tone reached Stefan Marquis clearly.
Lyden, who had been gently stroking his chin, straightened his posture and regarded the Marquis directly.
"Are you aware that the Empress is directly supporting the Grand Duke House's ventures?"
"...I am aware. My wife even met with Her Majesty the Empress, but she said it was merely a hobby and asked that we not interfere."
"I share the same sentiment. My mother, who has labored so much for me all these years, has only now discovered a new and engaging hobby."
A peculiar silence settled between the broken phrases.
"...As her son, I cannot very well forbid it."
"...."
"Even if it proves somewhat irksome."
A bland response, seemingly devoid of deeper meaning.
Yet Stefan Marquis gleaned a tremendous hint from it, his eyes brightening.
'Indeed, His Highness finds it irksome as well! Of course. He would never simply leave that Blaire Grand Duke be.'
The antagonism between the Crown Prince and the Blaire Grand Duke was hardly a secret—it was common knowledge throughout the Empire, something even a stray dog passing by would know.
This was precisely why Stefan Marquis had sought out the Crown Prince as his final recourse.
'They have been enemies since childhood. Nothing will change that.'
Stefan Marquis, smiling inwardly with conviction, recalled the young Kaian—the illegitimate son of the Emperor who had once threatened Lyden's position as the legitimate heir.
Born of the Honored Concubine yet excelling in every regard, that arrogant boy had once endangered Lyden's standing.
The Empress had sent Kaian to the Blaire Grand Duke Territory under the pretext of the Honored Concubine's death, and when the previous Blaire Young Duke died prematurely, the succession structure shifted entirely. Yet...
That "promising sprout" had withdrawn of its own accord without ever formally confronting him, so it was inevitable that the nobility harbored doubts about Lyden's appointment as Crown Prince.
Thus, Lyden would surely continue to despise and resent Kaian, and Stefan Marquis need only manipulate him skillfully.
Like the protagonist in a well-crafted play, Stefan Marquis willingly knelt before the Crown Prince.
"Your Highness! This time, our house is resolved to spare no effort in restoring proper order to the market that the Blaire Grand Duke House has thrown into chaos. I beseech you to trust us!"
"That is troublesome."
Indeed, the Crown Prince displayed subtle signs of contemplation.
Yet his demeanor was utterly composed, belying his words of difficulty.
It was precisely in such details that Stefan Marquis sensed his advantage.
Just as his expression began to relax further, Lyden's decision fell.
"...For the greater good, I suppose I can invest in whatever ventures your house undertakes. Mother would surely overlook such a thing."
"Precisely so, Your Highness. What you do is merely an 'investment,' not interference. Moreover, you would not know exactly what I intend to do with the funds you provide."
"Yes, I simply trust."
Before Stefan Marquis could even blink, Lyden's voice continued.
"Stefan Marquis, your extraordinary business acumen."
Why was it?
The moment Stefan Marquis met the benevolent gaze of the Crown Prince, a chill ran down his spine.
"...I shall not disappoint you, Your Highness."
"Don't expect anything."
Lyden, who had been gazing at his subordinate with benevolence as though the man were responding by instinct, turned his head away.
His eyes gleamed with a cold, crystalline light.
* * *
At last, the prolonged confinement and forced rest had come to an end—nearly a month of what amounted to imprisonment.
Perhaps the extended rest period had been necessary precisely because I had accumulated such exhaustion.
Consequently, the weather outside had shifted beyond the transitional season into the crisp chill of late autumn.
"...sigh."
It was now late afternoon tea time.
I exhaled deeply as I sipped warm tea from my tumbler, then turned my gaze away.
Beyond the terrace railing, I watched crimson leaves drift endlessly downward, sinking into contemplation.
'As the weather grows colder, people inevitably crave more things to enjoy within their homes....'
Yes, to be honest, during my confinement I had conceived of something I wished to create.
Yet I hesitated to voice it, fearing I might inadvertently spark another commotion.
The weight of responsibility from the projects already underway pressed down upon me so heavily—I simply couldn't take on anything more.
In truth, before responsibility crushed me entirely, the people at the Grand Duke's Residence might very well finish me off first.
"Miss, the wind is far too cold. Please come inside."
At that moment, Bonita stepped onto the terrace, a thick shawl draped over one arm and a hefty stack of documents clutched in the other.
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