Chapter 119: A Tempting Proposal
The moment Count Nevil’s name slipped from Damian’s lips, Marquis Joachim’s expression shifted again. He hurriedly reached out to stop him.
The Joachim marquisate and the Nevil earldom had long been regarded as two of the most prominent noble houses governing the empire’s northern region, locked in a rivalry that spanned generations. While the Joachim family held far more land, the Nevils surpassed them in wealth. This imbalance gnawed at Joachim, who constantly pondered how to match the Nevil earldom’s financial prowess. The thought of Damian taking his lamp business to the Nevils, further widening the gap, was intolerable—both materially and emotionally.
“Lord Vandermir, isn’t there something else you want?” Joachim asked, his voice taking on a coaxing tone as he tried to sway Damian.
“Why do you think I came all the way here to purchase lumistone?” Damian replied calmly.
Even with the abundance of lumistone in Joachim’s territory, there was no need to go through the trouble of sourcing it from the north when it could be obtained from estates closer to the capital. Damian’s visit had a deeper purpose from the start.
“There’s only one thing I want to know,” he said, his gaze steady but piercing. “Who recommended me for the beast subjugation mission?”
Joachim’s face betrayed his inner conflict, his lips twitching as he hesitated. Seeing his indecision, Damian pressed further. “We’re putting significant effort into this lamp business. We plan to sell not just to nobles but to commoners as well.”
“Then… you’ll need an enormous amount of lumistone,” Joachim said, realization dawning.
“And we’ll procure it exclusively from your estate,” Damian added.
Joachim’s eyes gleamed with greed. To have a buyer for his useless lumistone—and a sole contract at that—was an opportunity he couldn’t let slip to the Nevils. Clearing his throat, he finally spoke. “It was Marquis Grant who recommended you. He said the Red Hawk Knights were the best fit for handling high-level beasts.”
Damian’s lips twitched into a faint, wry smile. The Grant family was the maternal kin of Crown Prince Frederick. “Was that the only reason?”
“Yes,” Joachim confirmed. “The rest of us, myself included, trusted you as a sword master. More importantly, Marquis Grant was attending as the crown prince’s proxy, so we followed his lead.”
As the empress’s brother and Frederick’s uncle, Marquis Grant was a loyal ally to both mother and son. Likely, the anonymous high-ranking imperial Ben Diark had mentioned was Frederick, acting through Grant. In essence, Frederick had singled out Damian and his knights.
“Thank you for the information,” Damian said. “Now, let’s get to the business at hand.”
“Music to my ears!” Joachim’s face lit up, his earlier tension dissolving.
As they discussed, Damian’s thoughts drifted to Frederick. If he was behind the western beast operation, it was less likely tied to the Vandermir family and more a personal move, possibly driven by feelings for Aracila.
Should I tell her?
If he did, would Aracila take his side again? Though she always acted confident in front of Frederick, Damian couldn’t deny a flicker of fear—not of the man himself, but of the weight and presence he held in Aracila’s life. After all, Frederick had been her close friend for seven years, since their academy days. While she’d always backed Damian in their petty rivalries, a more serious matter might shift her loyalties. A lifelong friend would surely outweigh a temporary contract husband.
And if Aracila learned that Frederick’s actions stemmed from his feelings for her… What if she’s swayed by that?
The thought of Aracila seeing Frederick as more than a friend was unbearable to Damian. He knew it was unlikely—she was steadfast—but a heart softened by affection was prone to irrational fears. His mind told him to trust her as unwaveringly as she trusted him, but his heart selfishly wanted to leave no room for doubt. Perhaps he was simply afraid of facing a situation where he might get hurt. I don’t want to be discarded before our contract even ends.
After his meeting with Joachim, Damian made a decision on the way back. He wouldn’t tell Aracila about Frederick until he had concrete evidence—evidence that left no room for Frederick to wriggle free. He’d ensure that if anyone was cast aside, it would be Frederick, not him.
Even if she wasn’t his true wife, as his contract partner, Aracila could demand that Damian uphold their agreement with proper conduct. But her unease wasn’t about a breach of their terms. The mere thought of him being unfaithful stirred a deep, inexplicable sense of betrayal. How could he, when I’m right here…
But is it right for me to feel this way? I’m only his contract wife.
A chilling realization swept over her—she might be crossing the boundaries of their arrangement. That couldn’t happen. She could be friends with Damian, but anything more was unthinkable. To harbor such feelings was absurd. Their relationship had been built on clear terms from the start—how could she let herself stray unless she’d lost her senses?
“…My lady?” Damian’s voice broke through as he noticed her silence, her lips pressed tightly together, her expression rigid.
Turning to him a moment later, Aracila spoke in a deliberately calm tone. “What would I have done? Nothing. We’re not a real couple, after all.”
“Oh…”
Damian’s heart sank, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face. He knew her clear boundary-setting was correct, but it left a bitter taste. How foolish, he thought, to secretly hope for her care while harboring feelings that violated their contract. He averted his gaze, trying to conceal his emotions.
Aracila didn’t notice the subtle droop in his profile—she was too entangled in her own complex feelings to scrutinize his reaction. Unlike their earlier ease, an awkward silence now hung between them as they walked.
“Oh, by the way,” Aracila said suddenly, just before they reached the carriage after circling the park, “I have a proposal for you.”
“Another business venture?” Damian asked, his interest piqued.
“Yes. This time, I’m thinking magic lamps.”
She’d been meaning to bring it up once Claire’s situation was resolved, and the idea had just resurfaced. While investigating Claire’s case, witnesses had repeatedly mentioned how dark the streets were, obscuring their view. Even Rudy, met by chance, had warned her about frequent accidents in dim alleys, despite it not being late. Current candle-based lamps were dim and extinguished once the wax melted. Aracila saw potential in developing a magical lamp to address these flaws.
“Hm, lamps are a necessity for everyone,” Damian mused, nodding. “If we get it right, the profits could be substantial.”
Young or old, noble or commoner, everyone used lamps. A more convenient, high-performance alternative could capture widespread attention.
“Then I’ll count on you again,” Damian said, extending his hand.
Aracila clasped it firmly. “Same terms as the airship deal.”
“Agreed.”
Thus began their second partnership.
***
The magic lamp business progressed smoothly. Using lumistone sourced from Marquis Joachim, Aracila conducted multiple experiments, refining the mineral so that even a piece the size of a thumbnail, when heated, could illuminate fifty meters ahead with brilliant light. The completed magic lamps were marketed differently depending on the target audience. For commoners, they prioritized low cost for mass distribution, even if quality was slightly compromised. For nobles, they emphasized high quality and ornate designs, positioning them as limited-edition luxury items.
Promotion leaned heavily on the Parkxian Theater. Commoner lamps were hung outside to light up the surroundings and draw passersby’s attention, while opulent noble lamps adorned the interior, captivating theatergoers.
“My goodness, what are these? They’re not candle-based, but they’re so bright!”
“It looks like they’re modeled after roses. The way the flowers glow is incredible.”
“Oh, this one has diamonds—it gives off such a luxurious shine! And look, the ruby one glows red!”
“Wow, everyone, press the top of the lamp, and the light turns off automatically!”
The lamps, spaced evenly along the walls and seats, naturally piqued people’s curiosity. Their unique design and brightness, unlike any candle lamp, sparked immediate interest. The theater directed inquiries to a shop near the Second Street plaza, where the temporary airship office had been transformed into a lamp store.
Aracila also gifted custom-made lamps to those around her. To Archduchess Keystone, the leader of her social circle, she gave a moon-shaped lamp; to Iris, a lamp with amethyst that glowed purple. As they used her lamps in public, word spread rapidly, and within no time, a month’s worth of orders was fully booked.
Objectively, the business was thriving, but Aracila felt a subtle dissatisfaction. “Hmm, it’s going well, but something’s missing…”
The promotion was effective, and people were intrigued, but the enthusiasm felt lukewarm. Something was needed to ignite true excitement. Damian agreed.
As she pondered solutions, an unexpected visitor arrived.
“Hey, Aracila. It’s been ages since I came to your lab,” Frederick said, stepping into the mage tower.
“What brings you all the way up here?” Aracila replied, giving her unannounced friend a casual welcome as she led him to the sofa. Sally and Rudy, uneasy at the crown prince’s sudden appearance, quietly slipped out of the lab.
“I just missed you,” Frederick said with a warm smile. “We don’t need a reason to see each other, do we? That’s what friends are for.”
He was impeccably dressed, almost as if he’d come for a date, though Aracila, indifferent to his appearance, didn’t pay it much mind. Frederick’s gaze wandered nostalgically around the lab before settling on her with a soft intensity. “Back in the day, we’d meet up whenever we felt like it. But since you got married, it’s been harder.”
“Well, I’ve been busy,” she said lightly.
Marriage, especially one driven by purpose like hers, naturally curtailed the freedom of her single days. Even her own family, aside from the early months, hadn’t seen her often since the wedding.
“To be honest, I’m a little hurt, Aracila,” Frederick said, his eyebrows drooping in a faintly sulky expression, his crimson eyes shimmering. “Even if you’re married, you’ve been distant with me and Paula.”
Aracila, feeling a touch awkward, ran a hand through her hair. “Have I? I feel like I’ve been the same.”
“You’ve changed. A lot,” Frederick murmured, his voice low and fleeting before he brightened again. “But marriage doesn’t change our friendship, right?”
“That’s true,” she conceded. “But there’s a difference between being single and married. As a friend, you’ve got to respect certain boundaries.”
“Boundaries?” Frederick asked, tilting his head with a playful smile, though his eyes were cold and fixed on her.
Before her marriage to Damian, Aracila had never mentioned boundaries or discomfort. Her shift in attitude clearly irked him, though he masked it well enough that she didn’t notice, responding with her usual nonchalance. “Like not picking fights with my husband or saying things that make people uneasy. That sort of thing.”
Summarizing his behavior, she caught Frederick off guard, and he let out a surprisingly cheerful laugh. “I guess I got carried away because I care about you so much. I’ll try to be friendlier with Lord Vandermir next time.”
“Good call,” she said. “I’d love for my friend and my husband to get along.”
Even if Damian was a contract husband, it would be ideal for him to have good relations with those around her during their marriage. Especially since Damian was a genuinely decent person—she felt pleased at the thought of her circle growing closer to him.
Rubbing the corner of his mouth slowly, Frederick smiled. “Actually, I didn’t come here without a reason today.”
“Oh? What’s up?”
“That lamp business you and Lord Vandermir are working on,” he said.
Aracila blinked, surprised that her friend was bringing up business for the first time. She nodded curiously.
“I want to use your lamps and airship for the Founding Festival. What do you think?”
Her eyes widened. The Founding Festival was a national event celebrated by the entire empire. Featuring their magic lamps and airship would be unparalleled publicity—an opportunity no businessperson could pass up.
“I’ve been waiting for an offer like this, Your Highness,” she said eagerly. “Use them to your heart’s content.”
“Haha, your attitude changes fast. Cute,” Frederick teased.
Aracila let his playful compliment slide, flashing a polished business smile. Frederick explained that his mother, the empress, was overseeing this year’s festival, and he was assisting. While planning a special event, their airship and lamps had come to mind.
Recognizing their perfectly aligned interests, Aracila beamed. Her friendship with Frederick still tempered any strong wariness she might have felt.
“Let’s make it happen, Frederick,” she said.
“You got it, Aracila,” he replied, his smile smooth as a serpent’s scales. “Let’s work together and make it unforgettable.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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