chapter 39….
I’d seen plenty of cases where something was won by a narrow margin, but this time it felt like the other side had read our move and deliberately chosen their bid.
“If it’s the Luna Trading Company’s upper branch…”
It was a name I’d heard recently.
They’d suddenly appeared like a comet and started a business dealing in glowstones.
Since the Imperial family kept raising the fees for using light, those burdened by the costs had welcomed them.
Apparently, they even directly invested in mines.
This particular mine might be an empty tin can, but since it contained silver, it was still called a silver mine.
The auction ended neatly.
“Damn it!”
In the end, James, who was returning empty-handed, muttered curses under his breath.
“This is nothing like what you told me! And it was only by ten runes?”
He was so frustrated that he doubted he’d be able to sleep tonight.
“You told me there’d be no competition—so why…!”
Stewing in anger, James pulled a sheet of paper from his breast pocket and scribbled a letter furiously.
Then he immediately boarded a carriage.
“To the post office.”
The carriage didn’t budge.
“Didn’t you hear me? I just said, take me to the post office!”
“In a hurry to send a letter, are you?”
The coachman’s voice was unusually low. Now that James looked, the man was built like a bear.
Realizing something was wrong, James quickly tried to get out of the carriage—
—but when he turned to look at the coachman’s face, the blood drained from his own.
It was the Duke of Brimstone.
“I—I don’t know anything!”
“That sounds like you do know something.”
James tried to step down from the carriage, but his feet wouldn’t move. Solid rock had grown around them, trapping him in place.
It was the power of a divine beast.
James was a noble himself, so he hurried to try to dispel the effect.
But his opponent was a duke.
Only a weak trickle of water formed, dampening his ankles and accomplishing nothing.
If anything, it just made him feel more humiliated.
James realized he’d been caught reeking of suspicion, and cried out desperately.
“I—I only did as I was told!”
“As you were told?”
“They said if I won the silver mine for the price they named, they’d give me the auction price and a reward besides!”
“That’s far too one-sided to be called a deal. Who asked you to do such a charitable job?”
“That’s…”
Cough, cough.
Just as he was about to speak, James broke into a fit of coughing—blood-flecked coughing.
His body went limp, collapsing as though all strength had left him.
“He’s dead.”
A woman wearing her hair pinned up under a hat stepped closer and muttered as she inspected the body.
It was Linaria.
She had followed him after he left the courthouse in a hurry, and she looked utterly unsurprised, as if she’d expected this outcome.
Kaath stood behind her like a silent guardian.
“They must have taken precautions in advance. When I tracked the people who’d bought mines, I found they didn’t live long afterward.”
“All of them?”
“All of them.”
“They’re not very careful about covering their tracks.”
Linaria looked over the letter James was clutching.
[To C.]
The envelope bore the recipient’s initials and address.
Without even checking the contents, she handed it to the Duke of Brimstone.
“Seems like you hired the wrong aide.”
“…You knew?”
The duke looked genuinely surprised as he examined both the envelope and the letter inside.
“That day, I came to see you without warning. Since Brimstone and Obel are practically mortal enemies, no one would have expected my visit.”
Yet an assassin had struck as though waiting for her.
“Only a tiny handful of people knew I came. And since there were five assassins, there must have been someone giving the orders—someone close to you.”
“…”
“Add a few other facts, and only one person fits. How many people even have access to your ledgers?”
The spy was Connor, the Duke’s aide.
They’d been together for over ten years, so it was a shocking betrayal.
“You’re not considering the possibility that the coachman acted alone?”
“They say he spent his life caring for horses. Unless he was trained otherwise, there’s no way he could kill professionally.”
It was less that the coachman had become an assassin, and more that an assassin had posed as the coachman.
“Killing a person isn’t so easy.”
“Then what if it really was me who tried to kill you?”
“That’s too obvious.”
The duke was taken aback by her bluntness.
“You’d be the first person everyone suspected. If you wanted me dead, you’d have staged an accident, not sent assassins.”
“…”
“Putting it together, the culprit is close to you and would benefit if relations between Obel and Brimstone fell apart.”
Even that much was enough to narrow the list of suspects.
“So even knowing I didn’t plan to kill you, you brought up the assassins first to corner me psychologically—so I’d be open to… persuasion.”
“It’s not persuasion; I told you, it’s a deal.”
Showing all her cards first would only put her at a disadvantage.
The duke decided to overlook it as a matter of strategic conversation.
“What’s strange is that someone planted a spy and kept them hidden for over ten years, waiting for the right moment.”
That was something only a major player could do.
Even the aide had someone backing him—it wasn’t something he could have done alone.
“Leviathan.”
“Leviathan, you say.”
The name of the ducal house contracted to the water divine beast came up suddenly, but Linaria showed no surprise.
“The people who bought those mines were scattered like rivulets. But after their owners died, the rights pooled together into one large root—Leviathan.”
In other words, Brimstone’s assets had been leaking to Leviathan.
Linaria’s expression hardened.
Then in my past life, the one who destroyed Brimstone must also have been Leviathan.
If Brimstone had survived, they could have been a check on the tyrant Maximilian.
By destroying Brimstone, Leviathan had removed a major obstacle.
And the fact they’d been preparing for it for so long was astonishing.
“Come to think of it, did you hear what people were saying earlier? They all firmly believe you’re the villain.”
To find the spy, Linaria had had to pretend to be on bad terms with the duke.
“Since they don’t even question your divorce, I guess the plan worked.”
The duke’s face darkened.
“My wife sent me divorce papers.”
“…You mean for real?”
It was real.
“You didn’t explain at least some of the situation to her?”
“The fewer people who know the truth, the fewer leaks there are.”
Truthfully, the Duke of Brimstone hadn’t even trusted Linaria until now.
She knew too much.
But now that the spy had been identified, he had no choice but to trust her.
One thing still bothered him, though—how she knew the inner workings of his household.
Just as he was about to bring it up—
“How strange.”
“What is?”
“I thought Brimstone would hate me unconditionally. Honestly, I figured if you heard I’d been stabbed, you’d think it served me right.”
The duke admitted he had been unusually cold toward Linaria.
But he wasn’t heartless enough to welcome her death.
Even so, given the circumstances, it wasn’t strange that she thought that way.
After all, he had acted in ways that justified such an impression—and in truth, it wasn’t entirely a misunderstanding.
“Since I was the one who suggested staging the stabbing, I’ll explain it properly to the duchess and young master.”
The duke stared blankly at the hand she held out to him.
“So let’s work well together from now on.”
“…I seem to owe you quite a lot. I’ll be counting on you.”
He found himself clasping her hand as though under a spell.
As she lightly shook his hand, Linaria suddenly looked up, as if remembering something.
“Oh, I almost forgot.”
“Something important?”
“Very.”
She smiled sweetly.
“I won the bet, didn’t I?”
The wager had been that she’d earn the duke a hundred million runes within a month.
She hadn’t reached that figure yet, but thanks to her, the spy had been caught and losses prevented.
Factoring in that and future profits, they’d easily exceed a hundred million.
“So—one hundred million runes.”
“That’s what I’ll be returning to you from now on.”
She had kept the promise she’d made the first day she came to the Brimstone estate.
The duke, having lost the bet, found himself glancing away.
“Since I gave you the silver mine we just won, can’t we call it even?”
The Duke of Brimstone had a conscience, which was why his voice was softer than usual.
“That was purchased fair and square by the trading company. Calling it a gift isn’t right.”
“…Then what is it you want from me?”
After all, every bet needs a prize.
And since the Duke had lost, he had to grant Linaria one request without question.
“There’s only one thing I want from you.”
Hearing her next words, the Duke of Brimstone swallowed hard.
