Chapter 69:……..
[Gift.]
The next day, Jeron tilted his head as he looked at the pink box sitting in his office. It was a finely crafted box.
On top, it had only one word written: Gift.
Puzzled, he untied the ribbon.
When he saw what was inside, a small chuckle escaped him.
It was a choker.
Brown leather with a yellow topaz set in it, the stone catching the light with a lemon hue—just like his own eyes.
Well, she didn’t look very pleased, did she.
He recalled the young First Princess scowling when he’d asked her for the “dog’s spot.”
A truly strange woman—transparent in the most unexpected ways.
Her indifferent eyes seemed to hold no interest in anything in the world, unless she was directly attacked. Her lips were always firmly closed.
Yet despite that cold expression, the flush on her cheeks seemed to deepen by the day.
Jeron fiddled with the choker.
For some reason, he thought he could glimpse a sliver of the First Princess’s consideration.
“I really wouldn’t have minded if it were an actual dog collar.”
To preserve at least a shred of his dignity, she had given him a choker instead of a collar.
Warmth in a cold form—wasn’t that contradictory?
Maybe that’s why I like it.
With that thought, he carefully lifted the choker. It was made of leather.
The moment it touched his skin, it felt faintly cool.
Jeron started walking.
Just in time—Shardren was visiting his office.
He turned around quickly to show it off, and right at that moment, he locked eyes with Shardren, who was just about to step in from the balcony.
Shardren’s mood instantly soured.
What the hell is with that smile?
Whenever Jeron smiled like that, it was usually when he was about to send Shardren on a dangerous mission, or order him to whip the subordinates into shape.
A shiver ran down his spine for no reason.
“Hm? And what’s that for, mutt?”
“It’s a choker. How do you plan to even hold a woman’s hand with manners as savage as yours?”
“W–where did that come from?!”
Shardren’s ears turned red as he protested.
Jeron smirked at the pitiful resistance, like a hedgehog bristling its quills.
“Her Highness, the Princess, gave it to me.”
“Oh, the client?”
“….”
“Ahem, I mean, Her Highness, the First Princess.”
Jeron glared, and Shardren quickly corrected himself.
“Right, she gave it to me. You don’t have anything like this, do you?”
“No… no, I don’t.”
Shardren wanted to smack him. If Jeron weren’t his superior, he’d have already flicked that cheeky frog on the forehead.
But… even so, Jeron’s smile was dazzling, and Shardren found himself smiling back without meaning to.
So you’re the vice leader of the Alea Guild, huh.
He remembered the first time they met.
Despite his young face, the boy had carried a cold, stern air—like he was imitating someone else.
That “someone” was the man standing beside him at the time.
Marquis Raub Idrea.
Jeron’s biological father, and the previous master of the Alea Guild—said to be second only to the Emperor of the Estier Empire in ruthlessness.
And yet, under the excuse of “testing” his son’s worthiness as heir, he had forced the position of guild master onto a boy barely five years old.
Shardren, who had long since abandoned morality, still had enough basic decency to find the father and son incomprehensible.
A young heir who didn’t cry even when stabbed—and a father who looked on with pride.
It was no wonder Jeron’s misanthropy had its roots in his father.
From a young age, the boy wore a mask of pleasantness, yet shied away from anyone touching him.
The only person he might have truly opened up to was probably Shardren.
—Or so I thought. But today, it seems I’ve lost that spot.
A small, spring-like girl had quietly slipped into Jeron’s heart. Not that she herself seemed to notice.
“You’ll have your hands full, Guild Master.”
Shardren laughed heartily and flopped down onto the sofa in the office.
Jeron sat across from him. The floral warmth from earlier was gone, his gaze turning cold as he asked:
“So. Did you find anything that could be used as leverage against the Empress?”
“She’s clean. As expected of someone of her rank—she’s left no loose ends. Ah, but I did manage to trace her movements for the past month.”
“What is it?”
Jeron asked, and Shardren replied:
“She met with a certain noble. Do you know who it was?”
“Who?”
“The Duchess of Calypso.”
“Calypso?”
If it was Linava Calypso, she was one of the Empress’s people. But strangely, her husband, Duke Drayco Calypso, seemed to maintain a neutral stance.
Jeron narrowed his eyes and murmured:
“Dig deeper. See if anything comes up. Actually… it might be faster to just investigate every moment of the Empress’s life from the day she was born.”
“…What?”
“Why? Can’t do it? Is the Alea Guild only capable of this much?”
“Well, it’s just….”
The problem was that it meant tracking every single moment of a person’s life over decades.
And the one who’d be worked to the bone doing it would be Shardren himself!
Forget it, forget it! My plate’s already full—who’s blessing whose happiness here?
Shardren clutched his head.
“Ugh… it’ll take a long time. Don’t complain.”
“You’ll have it done within ten years, right?”
“Well, I suppose… if we mobilize every guild member. Oh, and—I’ve also found a suitable distribution channel.”
“Where?”
“Among our allied family guilds, the Kven Guild is especially skilled in distribution. They’ve even expanded into diplomacy.”
“Then we’ll introduce the Princess to them. Good work, you can go now.”
In fact, what Lilien had asked Jeron for wasn’t just dirt on the Empress.
She’d also wanted a reliable distribution channel for orichalcum—preferably one where every guild member had a knack for languages.
“She’s planning to expand overseas and multiply her profits.”
A truly remarkable woman. Back when she’d been attacked, she couldn’t even lift a finger.
An intriguing one, all the same.
A reply came from Jeron: he had found a suitable distribution channel, and suggested they visit together later.
Since it’s dangerous to go alone.
I readily agreed.
After sending my reply, I indulged in some rest. Having found a card to check the Empress’s power, my tension eased, leaving me feeling pleasantly lazy.
I was just about to laze around in bed when Illia approached.
“Your Highness, will you be attending as well?”
“Hmm?”
I gave her a “What are you talking about?” look, and she blinked before saying:
“Have you forgotten? The hunting tournament will be held in a few weeks. His Highness Prince Emin will attend—one of the maids he works with told me. Will you be going too?”
Ah, right. It was almost hunting season.
I completely forgot.
It was an important annual event—no idea how I’d forgotten. Probably because I’d been so busy lately.
I hummed, and Illia continued:
“This time, the hunting grounds will be divided into separate zones so that even young noble sons and daughters can participate.”
“Divided zones?”
I asked in surprise.
Why? That’s never been done before.
The hunting tournament was, as the name suggested, a competition to see who could hunt the most animals.
Because it was dangerous, each noble participant usually brought a bodyguard.
Especially Yevgeny, who always had two—Isabel and Dmitri—so he didn’t even need extra guards.
Those two stuck to him like glue, helping with his hunting.
As for me… I’d always been treated like an afterthought.
Since my palace’s chief officer was loyal to the Empress, I was assigned an unremarkable low-ranking soldier and could never venture deep into the forest.
But now they’re dividing zones?
“Whose idea was this?”
“I heard it was Prince Dmitri’s suggestion, but I’m not completely sure. Sorry.”
Illia’s shoulders slumped, and I shook my head. I could just ask Cecil or Sir Renard for the details.
I called Cecil, who was likely guarding the door.
He entered.
“Sir Cecil, I heard they’re dividing the hunting grounds this year. Is that true?”
“Yes? Ah, so the rumors are already out?”
“It’s true? Why?”
“It was Prince Dmitri’s proposal. The younger participants are smaller and more fragile than the adults. They’re harder to control, and one guard isn’t enough.”
“Well, last year, wasn’t it Baron Emir’s son who wandered deep into the hunting grounds and met with an accident?”
“Yes, exactly. So they considered banning the younger nobles entirely, but that caused an uproar.”
That uproar no doubt came from the children of influential families. Lively as they were, they would want to roam freely in the imperial forest.
“So Prince Dmitri decided that if they couldn’t do one or the other, they’d divide the grounds. His Majesty, the Emperor, Prince Dmitri, and the heads and ladies of each house will use Zone 1.”
People like me—frostbitten snakes—would be sent to Zone 3.
Zone 3 had only rabbits and chickens, hardly enough to be considered a proper hunting ground.
Well, at least I’ll be able to go deeper in.
I’d always had to turn back early before—there’d been some lingering regret. I told Illia:
“Then I’ll join this year.”
“Very well, I’ll inform Sir Renard.”
Illia left, and Cecil bowed, saying he’d resume his post.
The next morning came.
The palace was busy with preparations for the hunting tournament.
Thanks to that, fewer people were paying attention to me, and I enjoyed the quiet.
…Not that I was completely free.
At that moment, both of my communication stones were blinking—someone was contacting me.
One was Jeron. The other was…
“Duke Sorsier?”
[Ah, Your Highness. Have you been well?]
Even though he wasn’t in front of me, I nodded at his smooth voice.
“Yes, I’ve been fine. How have you been? How is Yevgeny’s treatment coming along?”
[That’s actually why I’m calling. The Second Princess’s condition is improving, but her stress levels are high, and she often vomits her food.]
So, she definitely wasn’t going to make the hunting tournament.
I felt a little better. The Duke went on:
[And there’s another report.]
I had a hunch, so I stayed quiet. He swallowed once and spoke:
[I’ve been invited to the Empress’s palace. And it seems I’m not the only one.]
“Can you tell me who else was invited?”
[They’re all people Your Highness would recognize: Hio Hoppen, eldest son of Baron Hoppen; Altean Garfu, of the Garfu County family; Arina Loren, daughter of the Marquis of Loren; James Ollenden… including myself, that makes thirteen heirs in total.]
They all had one thing in common.
Half were children of major political figures, the other half were likely second-round candidates in the imperial high office exams, having passed the first.
It was clear—the Empress, seeing Yevgeny losing ground to me, wanted to use connections to crush me.
I narrowed my eyes.
“You were invited because you’re also a strong candidate for the second round.”
[You’re quick to catch on. Then, what should I do? Most have already accepted. I’ll attend as well, of course—it’s an imperial summons. But do you have any orders for me?]
I had plenty—so long as doing them wouldn’t make Orca Sorsier fall out of the Empress’s favor.
The Empress, needing someone she could use, would find him the perfect tool.
“If the Empress suggests you join her side, act like you’re torn for a few days… then accept right away.”
[…What? Accept? Are you telling me to abandon you and side with the Empress?]
“Not completely—just for a little while. She’s probably desperate to break me right now.”
The main reason Orca Sorsier had become a strong candidate was my support.
Of course, in my past life, he’d managed fine on his own.
But so what?
If I hadn’t told him early about Nocturne, he’d have suffered stress-induced hair loss.
Anyway.
The Empress would know I had invested heavily in making Orca Sorsier mine.
She wants to destroy something I’ve built, so she can watch me fall apart.
So that I’d have no strength left to rise again.
An isolated First Princess, unable to trust anyone—that’s exactly what she wanted.
And so she’d invited him to her tea party.
Perhaps sensing my thoughts, Orca Sorsier spoke haltingly after a long silence:
[Honestly, I don’t like it… but if that’s your order… I… I suppose I’ll do it.]
Wow, he really hated the idea.
Well, Yevgeny has been giving him hell.
Apparently, she’d been so troublesome that she’d worn herself out and now meekly took her medicine.
According to Mulin, who’d gone scouting, even the maids were relieved to see the listless Yevgeny.
“Just bear with it for a few years.”
[A few years…! Haa… Very well.]
I could practically see him pressing his fingers to his temples in frustration.
After some further discussion, we ended the call.
Time to answer the other one.
The stone had blinked countless times during my conversation with the Duke. I suppressed my annoyance and picked it up.
[Ah, you finally answered.]
“Why are you calling so much? I was going to answer.”
[How would I know you’re not cheating on me with some other mutt?]
“Just get to the point.”
Chuckling came from the other end.
Well, someone’s in a good mood.
If my self-control were weaker, I’d have thrown the stone. Instead, I clicked my tongue, and Jeron said:
[I’ve arranged a meeting with the head of the Kven Guild. Will you meet them?]
My dog really was good at his job.
