Chapter 21

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: The Princess Only Deals in the Real Thing: Chapter 29

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"Still no word from her."

"As expected, she takes after her sister—stubborn as ever. But... that's ending today. I'm done indulging Catarina."

Crodil was delighted.

A whole country bending to his every word.

Could any game be more entertaining?

The princess must think the same. She'd been putting on airs because he'd shown her mercy until now.

But Crodil had no intention of extending mercy any longer.

Starve her out—what choice will she have? Catarina will end up offering her sister's pendant to me.

Licking his lips at the thought of his family's treasure and holy artifact, the Emerald Pendant, Crodil shoved the maid aside and flung open the door.

In the center of a room pathetically small for a princess's quarters, someone sat.

She didn't even turn at the sound of his approach.

"Princess Catarina."

No reply.

With a smirk, Crodil glanced at her arm bound to the bedpost and settled beside her.

"Rina."

Then he lifted her chin with his fingertips.

"Just how much of a monster do you plan to make your uncle out to be, hmm? One word from you, and this all stops. You think I want to do this? So let's end it now. Tell me. Come on, speak up."

Coaxing her gently like that, Crodil suddenly clamped his hand around her throat.

"My sister's pendant. Where is it?"

Catarina's lips parted for the first time after staying firmly shut.

It was just as Crodil looked on with eager anticipation.

"It's not your sister's pendant."

"What?"

"It's my mother's pendant. You'll never find it, Uncle. Because..."

The princess smiled.

"I swallowed it."

Her green eyes were threaded with blood.

"Wha...!"

"So if you want it, you'll have to slice open my belly. Give it a try if you can, Uncle."

Crodil recoiled in shock at the barbed words spat by the princess, who had shrunk like a frightened mouse ever since her mother the Empress's death.

Gazing at him, Catarina murmured.

"...I'll protect it."

It was a whisper so faint it was barely audible, but the princess's eyes gleamed with fierce clarity as she repeated the words to herself.

"So protect me, Customer. Like you always have, cherish me from here on out too."

It was as if she'd been turning someone's words over in her mind the whole time.

Crodil, stumbling back as if he'd glimpsed a ghost, bit his lip.

He bellowed.

"Summon the maids at once!"

It had to be a bluff. Surely a lie.

There was no way that timid, doll-like dimwit of a princess had done such a thing. She'd probably just stashed it somewhere.

Yet even as he told himself that, his breath came short for some reason.

"Turn this room upside down—no, the entire palace! Find that pendant!"

Crodil roared even louder.

Like a man frantic to conceal his rattled state before the princess he'd always dismissed as worthless.

Early dawn.

The old minister, hounded all night by the Regent King, made his way to the Imperial Palace Holy Knight Order.

He let out a deep sigh before the door. He had troubling words to share.

But before he could grasp the handle, the door flew open.

"Come in."

"Ah, Captain Ayrun. Of course—you'd sense my presence. No use dawdling."

The old minister regarded Ayrun, who gestured courteously without a word.

He was Captain of the Imperial Palace Holy Knight Order—the highest rank a knight could achieve.

Yet Ayrun's office was humbly simple.

Save for a black hourglass, his desk stood empty.

Gazing at the eternally precise and devoted young knight with a mix of reverence and regret, the old minister cleared his throat.

"Heard about the disturbance in the palace last night? The Holy Knight Order... has been assigned to shop inspections."

A task overflowing guards could handle.

But the Regent King had singled out the Holy Knights for a reason.

Crush their spirit while he can. They refuse to bend.

The Holy Knights pledged loyalty to the Imperial Family.

Not the Regent King—the Imperial Family proper.

Always upholding principles with their 'No's and 'That won't do's, they constantly tripped up the Regent's plans. His intent to trample their pride was plain.

Hence assigning them patrol duty even junior knights scorned.

If they falter... he'll seize on it to shrink the order.

"Yes. I've heard."

Ayrun, who must know full well, remained unruffled.

"We won't be negligent. No need for concern."

"...Right. Who else but you? The palace's staunchest stickler for rules."

Forcing a smile, the old minister cleared his throat again.

"That said... there's another order."

"Speak."

"They say Princess Catarina lost the Emerald Pendant left by her late mother the Empress."

The treasure cherished by the princess was known to both the old minister and Ayrun alike.

"They searched the palace all night but came up empty. So perhaps it leaked out..."

The Regent King's long covetous eye on that treasure as well.

In this situation obvious without saying, Ayrun lowered his gaze.

"You wish it retrieved."

"Yes. As you know, it's no mere treasure—it's a holy artifact. Unlikely in private hands; more probably sold covertly through a shop dealing in stolen goods. So..."

The old minister tapped a spot on the map.

"Shops in high-crime districts like this. Your patrol areas too."

Ashen Street.

The old minister handed over a pouch.

"A holy artifact tracker borrowed from the World Tree Temple. Can't detect specifics as you know, but it'll help. And..."

Sighing at the map, the old minister continued.

"It's a crime-ridden zone. Even if not the pendant, recovering any holy artifact would be a success."

A achievement.

An achievement to safeguard the Holy Knights.

Swallowing his final words, the old minister watched Ayrun accept the pouch with reverence.

Shadow crossed his face, but his response was crisp.

"I'll execute the order and conduct preliminary reconnaissance."

"Good. You'll have your work cut out."

"To return the pendant to Her Highness the Princess, I'll give it my all."

Not for the Regent King—for the Princess, Ayrun made it clear.

An answer unyielding as steel. Rather than remonstrate, the old minister nodded.

"See to it."

"Really? That one stamp I consigned sold for such a high price?"

"Of course. It's the Emperor's birth commemorative—only a thousand issued. Collectors snapped it up with gleaming eyes."

"Wow... It was buried in my dusty warehouse stamp album; I had zero hopes. Consignment was the best call!"

"Bring your other stamps too—who knows, there might be gems. I'll appraise them right."

"I will! Man, this is such uplifting news."

A stamp that cost 3,000 gold sold for a whopping 800,000.

Ten percent commission was 80,000 gold, but the thick stack in my hands was nearly double that in pure cash.

"Ah, the commission's 80,000 gold."

"Come on, who helped make it sell so high? If the owner had just bought it outright, you'd have profited less—but you suggested consignment with me in mind, right? So take it."

With insistence like that, refusing would sour the mood, so I accepted with a smile.

150,000 gold secured. My cash holdings were stacking up nicely before long.

Started with ten million gold, and income's already topped thirty million.

Auctions, consignments, acquisitions, pledges—the frantic pace was paying off.

Money breeds money. All that remained was to multiply it further.

Investment phase is approaching too.

As I mused, the customer piped up.

"Owner, you coming to the assembly later?"

The assembly.

The Merchant Guild's regular meeting.

"Wouldn't miss it."

The moment I heard, I'd resolved to attend.

Not for the meeting itself.

The agenda was what mattered.

"No way I'd skip a gathering like that."

I flashed a grin.