Chapter 76
Hearing that news would surely make Serhi burn with jealousy.
Since childhood, Serhi had always repeated one thing like a mantra—
that someday, he would become a Sword Master like Alexis.
“But in the end, he never did.”
His talent had only ever reached so far.
Elia’s gaze shifted toward Noah.
“So the real one was someone else, after all.”
God had granted that gift to another.
To die before that talent could ever blossom—how unfair must that have been?
It left a bitter taste, especially since she had played some small part in his death.
“Hey, you’re thinking about useless stuff again, aren’t you?”
“Huh?”
Noah suddenly asked Elia.
“I told you not to look at me with that worried face.”
“You noticed?”
“I can tell just by looking at your expression.”
“When I see Your Highness, those feelings just come out on their own.”
“You’ve done enough. You even helped me awaken my power.
If it weren’t for you, I’d never have learned the sword from the duke or studied under the Tower Master.”
Noah truly thought he was happy.
Of course, he hadn’t completely forgotten the hardships of his childhood.
But they were fading, little by little.
Because now, he could do what he wanted to do.
That alone made him happy enough.
“I’m happy now, Elly. And you’ll make me emperor, won’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Then that’s all I need.”
“Is it really?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you truly happy, Your Highness?”
“More than enough.”
Elia thought Noah looked quite admirable now as he moved forward.
She could clearly see how much he’d grown since they first met.
Opportunities change people.
For Noah, meeting Elia had been that turning point.
Two days later, the Marquis of Fiorne visited the Duke of Javier’s mansion.
The duke greeted him with a sly smile.
“You’re later than I expected, Marquis.”
The Marquis of Fiorne had come on the very last day of the agreed deadline.
“So it seems, Your Excellency.”
The marquis smiled pleasantly.
Smiling—when he should be begging—made the Duke’s brow twitch.
“Here’s the money you lent my son.”
The Marquis handed over several checks issued by the Imperial Bank.
His son, Dylan, had borrowed a staggering fifty thousand gold from the Duke of Javier.
The amount was so large that the marquis had no choice but to sell his mansion.
The Duke widened his eyes as he examined the checks—
five ten-thousand-gold notes.
“Are these real?”
“See for yourself. They’re issued by the Imperial Bank.”
The duke summoned his retainer, Viscount Palzman, to verify them.
The viscount’s eyes trembled slightly as he examined the papers.
“Y-Yes, Your Grace. They’re real.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. The Imperial Bank’s checks are made from a special material. These are genuine.”
A faint tremor ran along the duke’s lips.
“You must’ve had a hard time gathering that much money.”
The marquis answered with a regretful expression.
“What else could I do? I had to sell my mansion to save my son.”
“What?”
“The money came from selling my house in Noblesse Town. You needn’t be suspicious.”
“You sold your mansion? To whom?”
That was the most crucial question.
“You’ll find out soon enough. I’m afraid I promised the buyer confidentiality.”
The buyer had specifically requested anonymity for the time being.
The marquis rose from his seat.
“The debt’s been repaid, so please release my son now.
You wouldn’t dare go back on your word, would you?”
A promise was a promise.
The duke ground his teeth.
“…Viscount, release the boy.”
“Yes, Your Grace…”
Wiping his cold sweat, the viscount hurried out of the reception room.
Moments later, he returned with Dylan, the marquis’s son.
His appearance was pitiful—unkempt and exhausted, as if he hadn’t been able to wash properly.
At the sight of his father, Dylan bowed his head deeply.
The marquis clicked his tongue.
“Fool. Come along.”
Dylan hesitated, glancing at the duke, then quickly followed his father once he realized he wouldn’t be stopped.
As soon as the two left, the Duke of Javier exploded in fury.
He slammed his fist on the table and hurled a teacup against the wall.
Panting heavily, he glared at Viscount Palzman.
“Viscount.”
“Y-Yes, Your Grace?”
Palzman wiped the sweat from his brow, trembling.
“Find out who bought the Marquis of Fiorne’s mansion. Immediately.”
“A-As you command.”
Fearing the duke’s wrath might turn on him next, Palzman scurried out of the room.
In her study, Grand Duchess Christina frowned as she reviewed the sales report.
“Roen, you didn’t bring me the wrong report, did you?”
“No, Your Grace.”
“You’re telling me this is our actual monthly sales?”
Roen lowered her head, unable to meet her gaze.
With a sharp smack, the Grand Duchess slammed the report down on the desk.
“Tell me what you think the cause is.”
“Well…”
“Is it because of Beautiful Line?”
“Yes. Customers are switching to their products.”
“We released a new product too, didn’t we? We even held a promotion.”
“But Beautiful Line also launched something new…”
“What did you say?”
“They released a new item called a ‘cushion.’”
“A cushion?”
“This one, Your Grace.”
Roen handed over a round, flat cosmetic compact.
When she pressed the front button, the lid opened to reveal its contents—complete with a small mirror inside.
Roen demonstrated.
“You take out this sponge—called a puff—and press it into the product, like this. Then you apply it evenly on your face.”
As Roen dabbed the puff and spread it across her face, the Grand Duchess’s eyes twitched.
“It’s very convenient to carry around, so it’s selling like wildfire.”
“Are my researchers’ brains just for decoration?”
The Queen’s research team consisted of talented individuals Christina herself had gathered and nurtured from across the empire.
“Why can’t they come up with something Beautiful Line can? Idiots!”
Roen kept her lips tightly shut.
The Grand Duchess threw the report aside and changed the subject.
“Still no word from Emma?”
“No, none yet…”
“It’s already been three years. Do you think it makes any sense that we’ve gotten no results for that long? Find out where she is.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Emma had once been the Grand Duchess’s chief lady-in-waiting.
She’d been assigned to locate the Guardian of the World Tree and had left the imperial palace for that mission.
But there had been no results for three years—and no contact for several months.
Fearing something had happened, Christina had ordered an investigation.
“If we haven’t found her by now, she’s probably hiding somewhere we never thought to look.”
“Then should we…”
“Find Emma first. As for the Guardian of the World Tree, I’ll consider another approach.”
After sending Roen away, the Grand Duchess sighed deeply and rose from her seat.
Descending quietly into the basement, she sat before a spring.
Drawing a dagger, she pricked her finger and let a drop of blood fall into the water.
With a soft plop, the spring swallowed her blood.
Then it began to swirl, taking on the shape of a woman—
a figure without eyes, nose, or mouth.
The voice that came forth was eerie, like many voices speaking as one.
[What is it, my servant?]
“I have an urgent request, great being—Lady Orkana.”
[I’ve told you before. Every favor demands a price.]
“I understand.”
The Grand Duchess bit her lip.
She hadn’t wanted to summon this entity again—but she had no other choice.
[Speak your desire.]
“I wish to know where the Guardian of the World Tree is.”
[Hmph. Didn’t you once boast you could find that on your own?]
Indeed, she had.
At the time, Christina had confidently claimed she could locate the Guardian without aid.
“I was arrogant.”
She had truly believed it would be simple—
but she had never imagined it would prove this difficult.
Lately, nothing had been going her way.
And to make matters worse, even her business was now in crisis.
