The Young Duke’s office.
Rosinante had been occupied with external business trips for the past several days, but today he was scheduled to remain at the ducal castle.
“Oh my, a business proposal has arrived from Lady Riersha.”
“Hand it over.”
“…Are you not currently reviewing the Serinel business reports, my lord?”
Rosinante asked, clearly taken aback.
It was the project the Arachrene ducal house had been pouring the most effort into preparing. The goods destined for export to other nations were already fully assembled, and they were still in the process of planning how to protect the shipments whether they traveled overland or by water.
Not that anyone would be bold enough to consider stealing merchandise managed by the Arachrene family.
But there was no harm in being careful.
“The Serinel business is something you manage entirely on your own, Rosinante.”
“…”
“If something goes wrong, it falls on you.”
Pernoa curved his lips into a playful smile and extended his hand.
Rosinante broke into a cold sweat as he passed over the report.
“Quite well put together.”
“It appears Oberon assisted with it.”
“…I suspected as much.”
Pernoa’s expression shifted into a faint, faintly displeased look.
With Oberon involved, drafting a proposal like this would have been trivial. And yet — the idea itself had originated inside Riersha’s head.
Pernoa turned through the pages of the proposal with quiet satisfaction.
“She says she’s already found a writer.”
“Do you think the Kadimo Troupe will accept Lady Riersha’s offer?”
“Who knows. What’s your read on it?”
At Pernoa’s question, Rosinante found himself thinking back to the day he had first met the director of the Kadimo Troupe.
The director had carried a sharp, keen impression about him — and even standing before Rosinante, he had not so much as flinched when laying out his terms.
“Performing while constantly reading the mood of the high and mighty — that’s the last thing I want. And I’m not about to put on just any production someone tells me to.”
It had been the one and only condition he’d named when the troupe was acquired.
Which was precisely why Rosinante had accepted it.
…I can only hope Lady Riersha succeeds.
The Kadimo Troupe did not perform just anything. If the director wasn’t moved by it, it would never see the light of day.
Rosinante gave a small shrug.
“If things come together too easily, there won’t be much satisfaction in it for Lady Riersha either.”
“That sounds reasonable enough.”
Pernoa, who was already well aware of the conditions under which the Kadimo Troupe had been acquired, let out a short, quiet laugh. He set the proposal down on the desk.
“Well then.”
How much should he offer as an investment?
After a moment of silent deliberation, Pernoa picked up his pen and began to write. Then he pressed the Young Duke’s seal beneath it. Rosinante, who had been stealing glances at the figure, let out a low whistle.
“Quite bold of you, my lord.”
“Anything less wouldn’t do.”
Pernoa pushed the completed document to the side and opened the Serinel business report he had been reviewing before.
“The Willias ducal house must be in an uproar by now.”
“Yes. Most of Willias’s trade partners are in the process of transferring over to our house.”
“Good.”
Word had already spread far and wide, and those eager to obtain the scarce Serinel were practically lining up at the gates.
“However, there’s something suspicious about the way Willias has been moving lately.”
“Willias?”
Not the Kineart ducal house?
He had fully expected them to be sending rats scurrying about in search of the prince again.
“It seems they’ve been digging around the Empress’s inner circle.”
“…The Empress?”
“They may have been rattled, I’d say. They’ve been going around boasting that the next Crown Princess would come from the Willias line — and now our house is threatening their position on top of everything else…”
“So they suspect the Empress might take an interest in Riersha.”
And therefore, they intended to get ahead of it — to find leverage over the Empress and secure the Crown Princess’s seat before it could slip away from them.
Pernoa’s expression darkened with distaste.
This was an angle none of them had even remotely considered.
Not that he couldn’t understand Willias’s perspective.
“My lord, on that note — what do you intend to do about the rats?”
“I’ve been thinking about that.”
Pernoa tilted his head, a gleam of amusement crossing his face.
“Just how good an actress do you think Riersha is?”
“…Pardon?”
“If my instincts are right, catching those rats is going to depend heavily on Riersha’s role.”
⁂
Arcmund’s office.
“What did you just say?”
“…It appears Lady Riersha has secured investment funding to operate a theatrical troupe.”
Fran, who had recently been appointed as Arcmund’s new aide, replied in a clipped, even tone.
Arcmund listened to Fran’s report and sank into thought, his expression growing serious.
It was true that he felt a touch of hurt that his granddaughter hadn’t come to him first, but…
“If my granddaughter’s going into business, what kind of grandfather would I be if I didn’t cheer her on?”
“The Young Duke has already invested a considerable sum, I’m told.”
Fran continued the report, and Arcmund’s brow furrowed.
That insufferable boy.
No matter what it was, he always moved one step ahead of Arcmund — quick as a weasel.
“…Did you find out how much he gave?”
“Yes. Upon confirming, the figure comes to one hundred billion gold. To be paid out in three separate installments, and the amount may be increased depending on the young lady’s returns.”
“What?”
“What would you like to do?”
Arcmund’s brow furrowed deeper.
Not only had that boy gotten there first — he had offered more than enough to cover her every need.
This little—
Arcmund’s stomach turned.
But more money was always better than less, wasn’t it?
“A grandfather can’t afford to be outdone. Prepare more than that.”
“Yes, understood.”
At Arcmund’s command, Fran answered swiftly and stepped out of the office.
Thud—
At that moment, Arcmund — still seated in his chair — pressed a hand to his left chest, his face creasing with pain.
“…Ugh.”
The dizzying surge of pain left his breathing ragged.
He yanked open a drawer and swallowed a painkiller with urgent hands.
A short while later, the pain slowly ebbed away.
It can’t be known yet — that I’m not well.
That was why he had not yet shown himself to even his personal physician.
Arcmund’s crimson eyes settled into a calm, quiet stillness.
⁂
“Mm-hm, good.”
Riersha looked over the investment amount Pernoa had sent and broke into a deeply satisfied smile.
He had thrown in an extraordinarily large sum.
One hundred billion gold, no less. It was more than enough — practically overflowing.
And on top of that.
“Hada-buji sent some too.”
Arcmund, whose involvement she hadn’t remotely anticipated, had also sent money with word that he was cheering her on in this new venture.
Riersha began humming to herself contentedly, and Fran, who had been quietly watching, spoke.
“The Duke asked me to relay a message.”
“What’d he say?”
“‘My money comes with no strings attached. Think of it as pocket money and spend it as freely as you like.’”
Fran stood with his hands clasped behind his back, reciting the words phrase by phrase in Arcmund’s characteristic cadence.
It seemed fairly obvious the remark had been made with Pernoa in mind.
“Mm, please tell Hada-buji thank you.”
“Yes. That will be all, then.”
Fran exited the room with his usual precise, measured stride.
“Being rich feews nice.”
Riersha dangled her feet in the air, swinging them back and forth as her lips curved up into a warm, dreamy smile.
With this much money, she could sneak a few puddings without it even making a dent.
Riersha was quietly entertaining that particular scheme when a voice interrupted her.
“If Lady Riersha isn’t considered wealthy in this empire, I don’t know who would be.”
Oberon, who had been carefully examining the documents Pernoa had sent, offered his reply without looking up.
He appeared exceedingly pleased with the outcome.
Having finished his review, Oberon murmured under his breath.
“I’m glad I let slip a word or two in the right places.”
“Hm?”
Riersha caught the murmur and looked up in puzzlement.
Let a word slip? Where? To whom?
“His Grace cares deeply for Lady Riersha. I anticipated that once he learned she was starting a business, he would invest. It was only a matter of making sure that news reached him.”
“…”
“Though I didn’t expect him to hand over a fortune like this with no strings attached, calling it pocket money. In all my years serving His Grace, I’ve never seen him do such a thing.”
It might not be a bad idea to employ this method again from time to time.
Oberon nodded to himself, filing away this newfound insight.
For a moment, Riersha felt a chill run through her.
This had all been Oberon’s plan.
A former aide to the Duke of Arachrene was, without question, a different creature entirely.
Without a word, Oberon reached over and slid the plate sitting on the table toward Riersha. It was the snack she had yet to touch, having been caught up in conversation.
“Here. Have your pudding.”
“…Mm, thank you.”
Riersha ate her pudding and thought to herself.
As long as Oberon was by her side, there was simply no way this venture could fail.
