Chapter 68
“It seems the conversation will go on for a while, so Benio, take the young lady back to her room.”
Atanas spoke in a regretful tone, and Benio jumped up as if he had been waiting for the order.
With so many outsiders coming in and out of the castle, he seemed anxious and didn’t even stop to think.
But the one needed right now was neither Atanas nor Benio.
“Not oppa. I’m going with Isaac.”
“…What?”
Benio, who had been rising from his seat, froze awkwardly.
Isaac must have sensed it—he approached with a very natural smile.
“I promised to bring the young lady a new book this time. I said I’d read it to her before bed, remember? And she has such a good memory.”
Smooth. Always quick on the uptake.
“And I’ll take the chance to sort through some business proposals as well. That way we can discuss business matters after sunrise.”
Isaac exaggerated his smile—really, he was saying no one would get to discuss business until tomorrow.
Then he scooped Flora into his arms and left the dining hall, smiling brightly as they walked through a quiet corridor.
Once he confirmed that no one else was around, the smile disappeared from his face instantly.
“Those damn bastards can smell money like rabid dogs.”
The cheerful businessman vanished—what stood in his place was a wrathful demon.
His fierce but quiet anger echoed through the hallway.
“They’re hyenas who came sniffing after the Lucci Fer family’s money! When help was needed, they didn’t even look this way—now that they think they can profit, they rush in like vultures!”
“Uh-huh. It was super obvious.”
“Exactly! If even the young lady could see it, how blatant do you think they were? But His Grace…!”
He looked on the verge of losing his mind. Flora nodded understandingly, and his expression melted into something touched and emotional.
“Even the young lady sees it, so how is it that His Grace and the young master don’t?”
Because they’re both cuddly, naive teddy bears, that’s why.
Both were so innately kind that they believed everyone else must be the same.
They would never imagine someone would use them.
“Why should we give cake to people we hate? It doesn’t make any sense to me.”
His voice was filled with resentment and exhaustion—as if all his years of suffering were spilling out.
“Right. We worked sooo hard to earn it. No way we can just give it away.”
Flora patted his shoulder to comfort him.
“Exactly! I knew the young lady would understand my heart! And earlier—you brought up the office on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Whatchu sayin’? Flora’s pretty so he said Flora pretty, and they came with no gifts so he said no gifts. Anyone can see they didn’t come with friendly welcomes.”
“Yes, yes, the young lady is absolutely right.”
Isaac nodded enthusiastically. Even though she hadn’t meant it that way, he had already twisted it into his own conclusion.
But the strength that briefly returned to his voice quickly faded.
“But His Grace will definitely insist on cooperating with them. Even if their behavior is arrogant beyond measure, he’ll say cooperation and coexistence will lead to mutual development. Yes, because that’s exactly the type of person he is!”
It was hard to tell if he was praising Atanas or insulting him. His eyes were watery.
Poor Isaac. The only person he can vent to is the five-year-old girl he serves.
When would her dear teddy-bear father and brother stop being soft and actually become dependable? The thought made Flora worry.
She let him vent until he ran out of complaints—then:
“Isaac, I got a good idea…”
She whispered something into his ear.
Isaac blinked, then tilted his head.
“…Would that really be alright?”
“Why not? If they wanna share, say thank you and jump in.”
Light flickered in his eyes.
A man who believed he was drowning in mud suddenly saw hope.
And—he also saw a chance to make the people he hated look stupid.
“Then… I’ll follow the young lady’s suggestion. Thinking about it, it’s not bad. No—it’s good! His Grace will probably be pleased as well!”
Isaac nodded, practically hypnotized by Flora’s brilliance.
Flora grinned with satisfaction.
He carried Flora to her room, tucked her into bed with the blanket all the way to her chin, and then happily skipped off toward Atanas.
And the next morning—during a pleasant breakfast—Atanas’s retainers were told something completely unexpected.
A business contest:
“A Public Contest for Establishing a Mercenary Guild Advancement Plan to Serve as a Foundational Grassroots Strategy for the Boundless Glory and Development of the Northern Territories.”
No one had seen that coming.
* * *
Even though the retainers suddenly appeared, Atanas didn’t get angry. Instead, he kindly cleared out one of the annexes and allowed them to stay in comfort.
But the place that should’ve been a peaceful resting spot was now overflowing with discontent.
“What on earth is this supposed to mean?”
“Gold mines, mana stones, Shalia trade—those are profit-making ventures! But mercenaries?”
“Even if we lack trust, is he really going to judge our worth with a public contest? My pride can’t take this insult!”
The retainers gathered at the castle were all in shock at Duke Lucci Fer’s announcement.
“And why must I design a business plan for mercenaries of all things?”
“If he doesn’t want to share business opportunities, he could simply say so! To express it in such a roundabout way—so sly, much slyer than I expected!”
A slam on the table shook the room—the anger was palpable.
At the head of the group sat Marquis Srod, calmly stroking his long goat-like beard.
“Could it be… because we were disrespectful to the young lady?”
The marquis’s expression tightened—he snapped.
“Don’t speak nonsense! As if His Grace would abandon loyal vassals over something so trivial! We only gave the young lady proper discipline!”
He was the only one who yelled at the child for sitting in the duke’s office, and yet everyone else nodded quietly, careful not to anger him.
“His Grace is not the type to treat us poorly for such private matters. He is annoyingly upright, if anything.”
Atanas was not a petty man.
He endured unreasonable demands from oversight officials and disrespect from his own retainers—never complaining, never retaliating.
To think he would mix personal feelings into official matters? Laughable.
“So you really believe he created this ridiculous event because he doesn’t want to share a profitable business?”
“We only refused his requests for funds because times were hard—we all suffered!”
As more complaints erupted, Marquis Srod slammed the table again.
“Did you not hear what I said? Duke Lucci Fer does not act out of personal emotion!”
“Then are you saying he truly believes this will benefit us? That he threw this garbage at us out of goodwill?”
“Fools! Why don’t you consider that someone else threw it first?”
Silence.
Then—someone gasped.
“Now that I think about it—Lucci Fer has that money demon!”
“Last night, when he took the young lady back to her room, his expression was strange. He must have planned this to humiliate us. That arrogant brat.”
“Just because he’s a magician he thinks he owns the world? He’s only a baron’s second son! Yet he struts around like a duke because His Grace keeps him close. Disgusting.”
In truth, they avoided visiting Lucci Fer territory simply because it was a hassle—and because they thought the duke was useless and poor.
But their excuses sounded beautifully righteous to themselves.
“So what do we do now? Do we really have to take on this venture? Anyone can see it’ll fail.”
“Exactly. Why do you think the Imperial Family approved it? They know it’ll collapse, so they let the useless duke handle it.”
It was easy for them to believe, and everyone nodded.
Just then, there was a knock on the meeting room door.
“My apologies for being late.”
Count Vittora stepped in—the same man who praised the mercenary idea the previous night. He slowly looked around before sitting.
“You certainly took your time,” someone sneered.
He ignored it, calmly.
“I was asking the duke’s aide a few questions regarding the contest. I heard something very informative, so I hurried back.”
His eyes narrowed with an unreadable smile.
“Aren’t you curious what it is?”
