Chapter 87

Chapter 87: A Huge Investor. (1)

Emperor Leorine stared at Medeia and asked,

"What is that, Medeia?"

"Ah… th-this is…"

<<Excuse me? Could you please answer?>>

Sweat beaded on Medeia’s forehead, and the faces of the escort knights turned deathly pale.

‘Isn’t that… that man’s voice?’

‘Why now, of all times…’

<<Is anyone there?>>

At that moment, Medeia hastily grabbed the bracelet on her wrist, yanked it off, and stuffed it into her arms.

<<No, seriously! I’m telling the truth! Why isn’t she answering? Excuse me! Hey!>>

Hardin Daphne… that damned man.

With Hardin’s voice echoing from inside, Medeia forced an awkward smile and hurriedly replied.

“It’s nothing, Your Majesty. It seems a magic device malfunctioned.”

“Cough! Cough! Well then… next time you have an audience, it would be best to leave that behind.”

“Yes, I will keep that in mind.”

Leorine nodded, then opened his mouth again.

“Now then, we were discussing rewards… Is there something you wish for?”

“There is.”

“What is it?”

Medeia closed her eyes tightly and opened them again, then spoke with a rather serious expression.

“I would like to request Fabione… at this moment.”

Fabione?

At those words, everyone—including the Emperor—widened their eyes in shock, and the Emperor asked again.

“You’re requesting Fabione? Are you perhaps… planning a marriage?”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what…?”

As Medeia shook her head, Leorine’s eyebrows twitched.

“I wish to invest in a household that greatly helped me during this mission.”

“Which household are you referring to?”

“A place called the Daphne Viscounty.”

At those words, the retainers began murmuring among themselves.

“Daphne?”

“…It’s the first I’ve heard of them.”

Most of them responded as if they didn’t even know the name.

“……”

At that moment, the Second Prince Kaline slightly furrowed his brow and flicked his tongue.

“Hmmm…”

Emperor Leorine scratched his chin for a moment, then asked again.

“To repay a favor, you’re willing to use Fabione? Isn’t that a bit too much? Just what kind of help did they provide…”

Medeia met his gaze directly and answered in a serious tone.

“If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have been able to return to the Imperial Palace.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I’m certain.”

“…Cough! Cough!”

Leorine coughed several times before meeting Medeia’s gaze again.

His red eyes stared unshaken, solely focused in this direction.

He was only staring, but it felt as if his eyes themselves were speaking.

After a brief moment of thought, Leorine continued.

“If that’s how you feel, it’s not an impossible request. However, there is one condition.”

“A condition…?”

As a slight tension appeared on Medeia’s face, Leorine replied with a gentle smile.

"Tell me your story. What happened in that fortress, and what kind of help did you receive from this so-called Daphne household? These days... life in the Imperial Palace has become rather dull."

Perhaps it was those words that made the tension ease.

Medeia slightly curled her lips and replied.

"Yes, I’d be happy to tell you."

It was at that very moment.

“Cough! Cough! Cougghhh!”

Leorine’s coughing grew violent, and a fistful of bright red blood stained his hand.

“A-Are you alright?”

“Your Majesty!”

Medeia’s expression stiffened in an instant, and as the retainers rushed to approach, Leorine raised his hand to stop them.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing. I’m just a bit tired. Let’s end things here for today. Medeia... I’ll hear the rest of your story tomorrow.”

“Yes, understood.”

Supported by the maids, Leorine exited the audience chamber.

As she watched his retreating figure, a deep worry spread across Medeia’s face.

---

A few days passed since Hardin had returned to the estate.

During that time, there had been a rather minor issue...

“No, Father. I’m telling you, it’s true! The princess really promised to send the investment!”

“Ahem! Yes, yes, I’m sure you’re right.”

“So we should start moving forward with the construction of the trade port!”

“No matter how you look at it, isn’t it a bit early for that?”

That was—the fact that no one believed Hardin’s claim that Princess Medeia had promised to invest.

To make matters worse...

“I’d like to discuss the schedule for the upcoming trade port construction.”

“Third Young Master, didn’t we agree to talk about that later?”

“This is just to prepare in advance. If we wait until the last minute, it’ll all pile up.”

“Grrrr… but it’s the Lord’s order…”

Even the retainers who would believe it if Malion told them dung was bread didn’t quite buy the story about receiving a promise of investment from the princess.

At every family meeting, whenever Hardin brought up the subject of the trade port construction...

“Hardin, let’s talk about that another time.”

“But still—”

“Ahem!”

Even Viscount Cobalt interrupted him with a strict, serious, and solemn face.

A week passed like that.

Then another two weeks.

Time continued to pass as he trained with the knights and handled various affairs of the household.

The problem was— the more time passed, the more Hardin’s expression twisted.

“I mean seriously, when is she planning to send the damn investment?!”

“...Please calm down, brother.”

Hardin clutched his head and rolled around on the bed.

If she made a promise, she should send it quickly, quickly!

Or at least contact us!

This situation had been going on for so long that he couldn’t help but lament the fact he was now being treated like the boy who cried wolf.

Watching this, even Malion shook his head in frustration.

“Why not try contacting her again using that bracelet?”

“The bracelet?”

“Yes, that magical device the princess gave you.”

Hardin tapped the bracelet on his wrist with his palm and said,

"This junk? It'll take at least a month before it works again. Damn it... why is the duration on this thing so short?"

Magical devices fundamentally operated by using the mana stored within them as a power source.

And since he had burned through all of it excitedly on the first day, it had gone completely dead.

‘That… sounds like it’s your own fault.’

Malion, who had those words rising all the way up to his throat, suppressed them and simply narrowed his eyes.

“Brother, I’m just saying this offhand.”

“What is it.”

“Isn’t it possible we were just used?”

“What did you say?”

As Hardin shot up and responded, Malion adjusted his glasses and explained.

“No, think about it. We didn’t even sign a contract or anything… If the princess changed her mind, there’s really nothing we can do about it, right?”

“You’re saying she betrayed us? Don’t talk nonsense.”

“There’s no such thing as nonsense here, Brother. Think about it—it’s strange from the beginning. Even if the magical device stopped working, she could’ve sent a messenger or a carrier pigeon. But there’s been no word at all.”

“Hey, damn it, that’s not gonna happen.”

“And how can you be so sure?”

“Well…”

Because she’s Linian’s descendant?

Or because I’m a good judge of character?

As he was about to speak, Hardin realized those couldn’t be answers and slumped his shoulders. Malion cut in with a pitiful expression that said “See what I mean?”

“That’s why I told you not to get involved with the princess. I told you because I knew this was going to happen.”

Every time Malion spoke, Hardin felt as if those words flew straight into his chest like arrows.

“Alright, shut your mouth now.”

“Instead of getting like this, don’t you think you should use this as a chance to reflect, Brother? It’s good to be passionate, but there’s a saying—know where you’ll sleep before stretching out your legs. Honestly, I’ve always thought you’ve been pushing yourself too hard—”

As Malion seized the moment to launch into a full-on speech, veins began to pop one by one on Hardin’s forehead.

And then it happened.

Pwooooooo!

From beyond the window, the sharp blast of a horn blared loudly.

Both of them turned their heads toward the window at nearly the same time.

And then…

“Huh?”

“Is that…?”

A group of people was walking into the alley of the estate grounds.

At the very front, a flag was raised.

A banner bearing the emblem of the sun and the sword—the symbol of the Fabian Imperial Family.

“W-What?”

Just as Malion’s jaw dropped—

SMACK!

Hardin slapped the crown of Malion’s head with his palm and shouted.

"I told you I was right, you punk! They came! They actually came!"

"A-Are you serious…?"

They really came?

Malion stood there dumbfounded, unable to wrap his head around the situation.

‘Damn, they got here fast.’

Hardin smirked and elbowed Malion in the ribs as he spoke.

"What are you doing? Let’s go greet our guests."

"Ah... Yes!"

Malion nodded enthusiastically, a bit of brightness returning to his face.

---

‘What in the world is going on?’

Inside the audience chamber of the Daphne estate.

Seated in the lord’s chair, Cobalt rubbed his eyes over and over with his hands and scratched his cheek.

He couldn’t tell if this was a dream or some sort of hallucination—it was that unbelievable.

Then it happened.

"It is an honor to meet you, Viscount Cobalt. I am… Benjamin Rohan, aide to Princess Medeia the Fourth."

The middle-aged knight Benjamin, wearing an eyepatch, knelt on one knee and gave a knight’s salute. The knights and attendants accompanying him all bowed their heads in unison.

"……."

Seated in the chair, Viscount Cobalt looked down at him with a solemn face.

Eyes steady and unwavering.

A straight back and muscular frame, exuding a calm yet powerful mana presence.

He looked every bit the composed and dependable lord of a noble house.

Benjamin’s gaze shifted.

‘For a viscount, he seems to have a fair bit of dignity.’

Like father, like son, perhaps?

Of course, Viscount Cobalt’s inner thoughts were slightly different.

‘The aide to the princess? Really? Is this… actually happening? He’s not lying, is he?’

He tried his best to suppress the slight trembling in his body and the twitching of his brows as he scrutinized Benjamin closely.

From the sun-embroidered emblem on his chest, to the neat attire and the firm aura radiating from him.

There’s no way someone could fake all of that, right?

Impersonating the imperial family was a serious crime to begin with.

And it wasn’t like there was any benefit to doing such a thing.

So, putting all this together, there was only one conclusion.

‘Hardin was telling the truth?’

Helping Princess Medeia the Fourth, receiving Fabione… and even securing investment for the construction of a trade port—was all of that actually true?

How could that make sense?

No matter how he thought about it, it still felt too far-fetched.

The gap between the reality before him and common sense waged a fierce battle in his mind.

Of course, it was the same for the other retainers lined up in the audience chamber.

‘The Young Master’s words were true?’

‘Princess Medeia? The one known as a genius in swordsmanship?’

‘Hooo…’

At that moment, Hardin, standing beside Cobalt, whispered softly.

"Father, how long are you planning to leave them like that?"

"Ah… right."

Flash.

It was as if Cobalt’s soul, which had briefly gone out for a walk, had returned to his body.

Benjamin, who had been kneeling on one knee, finally came back into view.

Viscount Cobalt raised his hand and said,

“Ahem! Welcome, Aide Benjamin. Please, rise.”

“Yes.”

As Benjamin slowly stood up, Cobalt, with a serious face, asked again,

“That aside, what brings you to our house?”

“…Did you not hear from Young Master Hardin?”

“Hear what?”

Benjamin glanced at Hardin and replied,

“Princess Medeia has decided to invest in the Daphne Viscounty.”

“Cough! Cough! Kuh-hek!”

“Are you alright?”

“Ah, apologies… something went down the wrong pipe…”

While Cobalt tried to calm himself, struggling to conceal his surprise, Hardin, who was standing beside him, asked casually.

“Did she apply for Fabione?”

“Yes. She made the request immediately upon her audience with His Majesty and received approval. And so… I’ve come as an envoy to finalize the contract.”

“Hohoho, you’ve had a rough journey, Aide.”

The retainers watching Hardin and Benjamin’s conversation had their eyes practically bulging out of their sockets.

‘He actually received Fabione?’

‘Is this… really happening?’

This was just a minor viscounty in the frontier.

No—truthfully, it was a house cornered to the point where it wouldn’t have been surprising if it was destroyed any day now.

And yet, the princess had applied for Fabione on behalf of such a house?

That thing you could only use once in a lifetime?

Forget whether this was true or not—no one had even heard of a case like this before.

Was this a dream? Or real?

Everyone’s breath became ragged, and they could hardly keep their heads straight.

There was even a feeling of physical tension freezing their bodies.

In the midst of that strange atmosphere, Hardin grinned and asked,

“So, how much investment did she agree to?”

“It would be best if you checked for yourself.”

Ssshhk.

Benjamin pulled out a parchment scroll from his coat.

“Please, hand it to me.”

“Certainly.”

Malion, who had been standing nearby, hurried over and took the scroll, quickly unrolling it.

And then—

“Huuuh…?”

Malion blinked several times at the parchment, then brought it so close his face was practically buried in it.

He rubbed his eyes and checked the contents over and over again.

Hardin furrowed his brows and said,

“So, how much is it?”

Malion trembled as he raised a single finger.

“One million gold? Ehh… that’s kinda stingy.”

With all that dramatic flair, he expected maybe 3 or 4 million—but this was it?

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