Chapter 25 – The Spark of Invention and the Perfect Scandal
The morning sun rose.
‘Ugh. What a filthy morning. I’m drowning in debt, and today I actually have to pay it back.’
For the first time in a while, I just wanted to stay in bed and rot.
But then—
The door swung open.
“What now.”
“Tsk, tsk.”
Scar didn’t even answer. He went straight to the window and yanked open the curtains. Bright sunlight stabbed at my sleepy eyes.
“Ahhh! My eyes!”
“Are you a dark mage or something? Live a little brighter, will you?”
“Where’s Tangent? Why are you barging into a married woman’s bedroom? That’s against every rule of etiquette!”
“It’s a loveless contract marriage. Only for a year. That’s less romantic than a bad date.”
“So where is Tangent?”
“Changing the subject already, huh? She’s busy. She’s showing the mercenary corps around the estate today. So it’s just you and me—like old times—off to the Mage Tower!”
“And Seba?”
“He’s coming too. Don’t ruin the mood.”
He sighed like a disappointed mother.
Then, ever efficient, he laid out my clothes and—of course—blindfolded himself with a strip of black cloth while helping me dress, making sure not to touch me even by accident.
Right. Before Tangent joined us, he used to help me like this every morning.
The thought made me a bit nostalgic.
Scar and I really did have a strange relationship: a butler who stuck around even when unpaid, feeding and dressing a penniless, amnesiac lady. His mouth was annoying, sure, but his loyalty was real.
And I didn’t believe in loyalty without reason.
Why did he stay?
“Want me to fix your hair too?”
“No, I’ll do it myself.”
In no time, I was ready. We picked up Seba waiting downstairs and all three of us headed out. The weather was bright and crisp as the carriage raced down the road.
“How’s the magic crystal project coming along?”
“Quite well, actually. As soon as the metal components arrived, I handed them to the professional mage. There should be a prototype ready by now.”
He was right.
When we reached the shabby little tower, the mage immediately presented a small object.
“This is the prototype.”
“That was fast.”
“Well, Sir Scar kept reminding me that the Lady had to be impressed, so I worked nonstop. We made four of them.”
The mage handed me one.
Oh. This looks… good.
It was roughly what I’d envisioned—a bit bulkier and rougher, but recognizable.
“How does it work?”
“Just add mana like this…”
The mage channeled energy, and the crystal’s surface shimmered.
I stepped back and tapped another one on the table. The two crystals glowed together, and suddenly—an image appeared.
“Can you hear me?”
—“Can you hear me?”
“It works!”
The voice came through perfectly clear. My eyes stung with happy tears.
Seba’s mouth dropped open.
“This is incredible…! Why didn’t anyone think of this before? If you make it square instead of round, the display would be even better!”
“That’s what we call innovation, my dear.”
“Wow…”
He looked utterly awed—rare for someone who’d worked at the prestigious ducal household. My pride swelled.
“Amazing, right? I invented that.”
“Uh… technically, I did, my lady…”
“Excuse me, I invested. You just researched. I even got married for this project.”
The mage deflated like a popped balloon.
“So, objectively speaking, how is it? Anything we should fix?”
“It’s excellent. The image is clearer than a regular crystal orb, and the voice quality is superb. You can easily tell who’s speaking.”
Seba nodded eagerly. “Most orbs are so fuzzy you can’t even see the face properly. This is revolutionary!”
“Right?”
He smiled bashfully. “Honestly, this makes it worth missing my birthday.”
“What? Your birthday?”
“Yes, ma’am. Two days ago.”
“Why didn’t you say something? I’d have made Tangent bake a cake!”
I pressed the prototype back into his hands.
“My lady?”
“Keep it. A birthday gift.”
“This precious thing?!”
“Use it to contact us. Check in on sales after you return home. You can talk to the mage directly through it.”
Seba turned pale. “N-no, I couldn’t possibly—”
But I grinned and pushed it toward him again.
“No take-backs. I’ll want your feedback even after this contract marriage ends. This business will last a century.”
He finally accepted it, eyes watery. The mage peeked up timidly.
“Er… Miss Investor, what should we call this device?”
“Oh! The name is important! Let’s see… Galaxy—no, too much. Pineapple—ugh, my conscience hurts. Hmm…”
Maybe “smartphone”? Or “Dante Phone”? Something patriotic like “Republic of Korea”? No, Dante Phone has a nice ring…
“How about ‘Crystal Panel’? It’s not a ‘sphere’ anymore—it’s flat.”
“That’s so lame.”
“I like it!”
“Me too!”
“Absolutely not!”
I glared at all three of them.
“You’re seriously naming my brilliant invention something as boring as ‘Crystal Panel’? Where’s your sense of style?”
“Functionality matters more than style,” Scar replied smoothly.
I glanced at Seba. He stared at his shoes. Clearly agreeing with him.
And so, tragically, the revolutionary new device was christened “Crystal Panel.”
Now for the next step.
“Let’s price it at 10,000 gold each. Thoughts, Seba?”
“That’s too expensive! That’s the cost of a whole house!”
“Who said commoners were the target market? We’re selling to royalty and rich nobles.”
“So it’s a luxury item, then? Fair enough. But to make it truly luxury, we’ll need something extra.”
“Go on.”
“Magic tools have always been luxury goods. Boiling water, flushing toilets—all magic-based, all expensive. But this—this needs a story.”
I nodded.
He was right. Without running water, even nobles relied on enchanted items for convenience.
“Keep talking.”
“Practicality alone isn’t enough. To make people want to spend money, you need… seasoning.”
“Seasoning.”
“Yes! A dash of drama, prestige, or gossip. Something to make them crave it.”
I leaned back, smiling.
“Smart kid. Did you study business too?”
“My mother ran a clothing shop. I helped sometimes.”
He scratched his cheek shyly.
“So, if we add a good story, nobles, royals, even rich merchants will fight over it.”
He was absolutely right.
A scandalous touch would make this sell like wildfire.
“Seasoning, huh? Doesn’t matter what kind—salt, sugar, pepper, fish sauce—as long as it adds flavor, right?”
“…What?”
“Just making sure.”
***
“Yaaawn…”
Donnie, the editor-in-chief of the weekly gossip paper The AnaVada Weekly, stretched.
‘I need to pay for my kids’ study abroad. At this rate, I’ll have to print even trash gossip just to stay afloat…’
Thirty years in journalism, and she was still stuck scraping for scandal.
‘I’ve got maybe three years left before this place collapses… Please, someone drop a juicy story in my lap.’
She was about to light a cigar when—
Knock, knock, knock.
“Huh? Who’s there?”
She checked her calendar. No appointments today.
“If you’re selling something, no thanks!”
“I’m not.”
“Milk delivery? I don’t drink milk, it upsets my stomach!”
“Not milk, either. Does the name Aileen Dante ring a bell?”
Thud!
Donnie nearly fell out of her chair. She ran to the door—and froze.
Because standing there was Aileen Dante herself.
‘A noble… here?! In a tabloid office?!’
This was a place nobles hated.
They sued this paper. They spat on it.
And now one was here voluntarily—one of the most talked-about nobles in the kingdom.
‘This is a once-in-a-lifetime scoop!’
Donnie scrambled to her feet.
“Do you have a seat?”
“Not really.”
“Sit! Please!”
She ushered Aileen inside, along with her silent companion (Scar, of course).
“I’m surprised. I expected you to kick out broke nobles like me.”
“Ah—ha ha—no, of course not…”
Was that a joke? Should she laugh? Deny it? Panic?
She opted for awkward laughter.
“Just laugh,” Aileen said flatly.
“Hahaha! Ha! Ha…”
“When can I speak?”
“S-sorry.”
Silence fell thick.
Maybe I should’ve made an appointment, Aileen thought.
She fiddled with the sofa armrest, trying to figure out how to start. She was here for seasoning—to make her product famous.
Donnie, misreading the tension, quickly poured a drink.
“Thank you. What was your name?”
“Donnie, my lady.”
“Lovely name. Your mother chose well.”
“Ah… thank you. So, what brings you here?”
“I’d like a bit of… publicity.”
Donnie blinked.
“Publicity?”
“Yes. I’ve developed a magical tool under the Marquisate’s funding. I’d like you to feature it.”
“Feature it? We do take ads, but page two costs 400 gold per slot…”
“No, no, I don’t want an ad. I want it on the front page.”
Donnie froze.
“I’m sorry, but that’s impossible.”
“Why?”
“Our paper doesn’t advertise products. We… highlight the great deeds of the noble class.”
In other words, scandals.
“Our front page is reserved only for exclusive information. And unless you’re offering a reward…”
Aileen just smiled.
‘Is she insane?’ Donnie thought.
Then Aileen leaned forward and said—
