Chapter 15

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: The Princess Only Deals in the Real Thing 23

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"You said it yourself. What could Uncle possibly do with that worthless, pathetic painting?"

"S-Sis...!"

"That painting you handed over today went up for auction with a price tag of one hundred million. What do you think about that?"

"B-But it didn't sell, did it? It's not a painting worth selling, so there shouldn't be any problem...!"

"Do you think Uncle's goal is to sell that painting and make some money?"

Rozanne Viscountess said coldly.

"Why else would he put a painting that won't sell—as you said—up for auction? It has to be a signal."

"A signal?"

"Putting Forest of Colonya up for sale at one hundred million gold is a signal to someone!"

Otherwise, there was no way he'd put an absurd painting like that at such a price.

"If the accomplice who receives that signal buys the painting, it's like completing some kind of code."

Uncle was more than capable of something like that.

Rozanne ground her teeth as she thought of Michele.

"But even an accomplice—how would they buy a painting worth one hundred million gold?"

"You only know one side of it. If their job is to secure Uncle's hidden fortune, it's entirely possible."

Hugo gasped and clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Then the reason he took that specific painting from me...!"

"Exactly. There's definitely something hidden in that painting. ...Wait a minute. Isn't it a painting of the coniferous forests in the northwest?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Maybe... he drew the location where the fortune is buried."

Hugo's eyes widened, then darted around frantically.

"I had no idea it was that important! But Philosophy Auction House has top-level security. We can't steal it, and we can't just buy it outright. What do we do?"

"Sigh... Hugo, have you forgotten how I make my money?"

"S-Sis! No way!"

"Yes. I have one."

Rozanne's main source of income.

Replicas.

"I have a replica of Forest of Colonya!"

Rozanne's eyes gleamed fiercely.

Hugo rubbed the goosebumps prickling his arms and shot her a wary glance. She was his sister, but she was downright terrifying like this.

Not quite as bad as Uncle, though.

"Uncle's really going out of his way to make things annoying and troublesome. He won't step out front himself. And trotting out that girl as his front."

"...S-Sis, that girl really seemed to know nothing...!"

"You don't seriously think I'll just take your word for it after you botched the whole thing, do you?"

Rozanne's gaze sharpened.

"Whether that girl's an ignorant puppet or knows every last detail, it doesn't matter."

She smiled.

"What's there to wait for anymore? If Uncle won't come out, we'll drag him out."

Rozanne ground her teeth.

"So let's just wipe that pawnshop off the map."

Before anything even more troublesome cropped up.

Rozanne muttered coldly. Terrified, Hugo pressed himself flat against the door.

3. Sorry, but who might you be?

"Hello, Doctor!"

"Yes, come on in, Miss Elisha. I've got the herbs you requested all prepared ahead of time."

"Thank you, as always."

The doctor at the clinic—now a familiar face—greeted me as I stepped through the door.

I took the bundle of herbs and handed over the payment. He asked cautiously,

"How's your patient's condition these days?"

This doctor sitting across from me was one of the few who knew about Grandpa's state.

But even he didn't know Grandpa was staying at Bellcato Sanatorium.

Information could leak from anywhere, anytime.

Anything involving Grandpa demanded the utmost caution.

"Lately, since I've been working, he's been resting well and looks in good spirits. He even let out a big laugh today."

'I hope that's really the case.'

When I left Grandpa at the sanatorium, I'd told them to contact me only if there were major changes.

Of course I was curious. I worried every single day.

But getting regular letters felt risky—they might tip off the Lionet folks.

I spoke with a silent prayer. Hoping Grandpa was feeling absolutely fantastic today.

"I see... That's a relief."

"Yeah. Doctor, has anyone come around asking about me or Grandpa?"

"Of course not. And if anyone does show up, I'll brush them off saying it's about your health, just like you said."

"Make it sound like a tricky illness, if you can."

"Haha, got it. Will do."

I flashed a bright smile and stood up. The hospital wasn't my only stop—I had other errands.

"Alright, see you later!"

"Ah, Miss Elisha."

"Yes?"

The doctor who called me back wore a complicated expression for a moment.

My heart dropped.

"What's wrong? Something happen?"

"...No, nothing at all. The eyebright root I gave you this time is a little larger than usual. Didn't want to startle you."

"Ack, that startled me way more! It's fine. Bye!"

"Yes, take care."

'Whoa, scared me. Nothing serious after all.'

I packaged the herbs out of sight and dropped them off at the post office as a parcel.

Rare herb, they said—no eyebright root at the sanatorium, so I had to send it every time. No big deal.

I didn't forget to use the pseudonym we'd agreed on beforehand.

"Alright, now to the magic tool shop."

Time for some new self-defense gear.

I'd left the telescopic baton at the auction house in my rush, and the spray had proven useless.

Weaving through the tangled alleys, I reached the magic tool shop. Emma the mage, decked out in her flamboyant robes, greeted me warmly.

"Hey, Emma sis! Here to buy some magic tools."

Emma was a mage who'd worked Ashen Street for years. She knew Grandpa well and handled his security spells regularly.

She was one of the few who welcomed me without suspicion, so I was always glad to see her. Plus, she was damn good at what she did.

"Not spray stuff—something that can take down an attacker right away. Ooh, whips would be cool. Handcuffs or anything like that? Show me!"

"Ahem, you from the morning already...? Didn't know you were into that sort of thing...?"

"No, sis! Not like that! Self-defense! Self-defense gear!"

I'd momentarily forgotten her specialty was love and romance magic.

Shoving away the outrageously shaped magic tools in horror, I finally picked out a few decent ones.

Emma watched me choose, then grinned slyly.

"Spray's the best for you—why insist on others...? Feels like an excuse to me...?"

She winked lasciviously and continued with a pleased nod.

"As your life senior, lemme advise: sticking to your tastes ain't bad. Better to find out early. Yep, definitely."

"Ugh, seriously not! The spray backfired—wind blew it right back in my face."

"Ah, yeah, that's the downside of spray types. You actually used it? What went down?"

"Thief broke in. Tried to catch him, ended up caught myself."

Emma tilted her head as she listened.

"You took the whole spray yourself? You okay?"

"Burned like fire. Tears wouldn't stop—you know? Cried half the day straight. Anyone seeing me would've thought my house burned down."

"Half a day? Those usually last at least two."

"Sprayed some diluted holy water on my face a few times, and it got better?"

"Huh...? That's super concentrated mana—diluted holy water shouldn't cut it."

"Drank holy water tea the day before. Maybe that?"

"Hmm, could be? Holy power's not my field. Anyway, how'd you end up drinking holy water?"

"Oh, right! Finally used that 'Worst Memory' spell you set up for me."

I gave a quick rundown of the Hugo mess. Couldn't call him family, so I just said he was a creditor.

Emma clapped delightedly the whole time, like it was her own victory.

She happily agreed to consult on magic tools too.

"Offering a fee? No reason to say no. Looking forward to it, partner girl."

"I should be the one saying that. Gonna need your help a lot."

"Why? Need more security spells?"

"Well, not exactly security..."

I scooted closer.

"Got something to ask you."