Chapter 58

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 58

Chapter Title: Even Scarier Than the Battlefield

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After coming back from the battlefield, it felt even scarier than usual.

The knights, rigid as boards, swallowed hard.

They'd spent the past year tumbling around at the side of our family—like rabid dogs—to the point where they'd actually welcome a battle horn.

Nos, standing behind Dad, rubbed his hands together with a miserable look on his face and mouthed toward me, "Please spare me."

I rolled my eyes and mumbled,

"Uh, well..."

"So... I slept with the dolls the brothers gave me every single day, and it felt like they were right here in the castle with me..."

"Every single day?"

"Always?"

They both asked, and I nodded vigorously.

"I missed them every day, so yeah!"

Only then did my brothers' expressions soften a little.

Dad dismounted his horse and scooped me up into his arms.

"And you didn't sleep with the doll I gave you?"

Dad looked a bit thinner.

In my past life, he hadn't joined the Kruger War, but he'd entered the Allied Forces battle toward the end and led them to victory.

So I'd been relieved, but seeing his battle-worn face now made my heart ache.

I wrapped my arms tightly around Dad's neck and rubbed my cheek against his.

"I hugged it super tight every night."

Dad's hand, stroking the back of my head, felt so gentle.

That night, the castle buzzed with a victory party until late. House Duvered laid out wine and meat without stint for the weary soldiers.

I slipped out midway through the party and hummed a little tune while gazing at the cloth pouch.

The chamberlain, who'd followed me out, asked,

"They say the soldiers who barely made it back victorious today nearly dropped dead from heart attacks?"

"Huh?"

"I heard they cheered the spoils of war more than they did the young masters."

"But look at this."

I pulled "it" out of the cloth pouch and showed it to the chamberlain.

"What is this?"

He furrowed his brow—it must've looked too shabby to be something I'd welcomed more than my family.

I grinned and said,

"Better than gold or jewels."

"This? Looks like just some seeds to me."

"Seeds, exactly. Seeds that'll drive a wedge between the Empress Dowager and the temple... and rake in a massive fortune for us."

"No seeds like that exist... What is it?"

"They're called Luminus. Special seeds that only grow in Orgos, the southernmost tip of the continent."

"Luminus?"

"Turn them into medicine, and they're great for arthritis or neuralgia. And effective for the Empress Dowager's nagging skin condition, too."

"Skin condition? Does the Empress Dowager have one?"

I nodded.

It was a secret known to only a handful in the temple, but that skin disease was the reason she'd developed such deep faith.

The Empress Dowager believed that with a devout heart and service to the gods, her affliction would heal.

Of course, it wasn't the only reason she'd colluded with the temple, but the skin disease certainly played a major role.

The chamberlain nodded along as I explained.

"But getting it into the Empress Dowager's hands won't be easy. Any medicine entering the palace goes through years of scrutiny."

"That's why we make her come looking for it."

"How?"

"If most folks her age swear by its effects, she won't be able to ignore it."

I clasped my hands together and gazed up at him with sparkling eyes.

"And wouldn't you know it—there's a perfect old man standing right in front of me?"

"...Pardon?"

He stared at me with an uneasy expression.

The party for the pre-spring Flower Festival.

The hall was filled entirely with elderly gentlemen and noble ladies.

Jean-Marc Nuanoque, stepping down from his carriage, pressed a hand to his forehead as he surveyed the venue.

'Why did things end up like this.'

[Gotta ship the medicine fast, before the temple and Empress Dowager patch things up. So spread rumors of Luminus quick—make a huge splash for it.]

[What kind of huge splash?]

[Something like, "Youth-restoring medicine appears!"]

He was the billboard.

Jean-Marc Nuanoque, the continent's richest man, who commanded serious influence among the Five Great Ducal Houses as the one steering House Duvered's council of elders.

How had his fate—who'd waged endless wars against generations of Duvered dukes—come to this?

Over sixty years old, reduced to playing puppet for a nine-year-old girl.

For some reason, Leblain was a child he simply couldn't resist. His silver tongue, which had pinned down predecessors, meant nothing against her smile.

Jean-Marc sighed and stepped into the party hall.

Exclamations rose from all around as he crossed the threshold.

"My goodness, Viscount Nuanoque..."

"You look exceptionally handsome today."

And well he might.

Before coming to this party, he'd been hounded by Leblain into managing his figure.

Then picking the perfect outfit from dozens, and even Celia had come down to the territory to dab something on his face.

A man grooming to this extent was unheard of in the era Jean-Marc had lived through.

Elderly noble ladies crept closer, hiding their smiles behind peacock-feather fans.

"How have you been?"

"It's been too long, Viscount Nuanoque."

"You look different today—younger, almost."

He really was different from usual. Normally, he'd have brushed them off with an irritated glare, but Leblain's voice echoed in his ears.

[Scowl at the party, and the rumors end with "Viscount Nuanoque's foul temper"!]

He forced the corners of his mouth upward.

"Yes, and how have you all been?"

The ladies blushed.

The charm that had set young ladies' hearts aflutter in his youth hadn't faded with age.

'Oh my, why's he smiling like that.'

'Takes me back.'

As the ladies peeked at him and fanned themselves furiously, a grumpy old gentleman seated at a distance slammed his cane on the floor—thwack, thwack.

"You scoundrel! What kind of man dolls himself up like a harlot?!"

The ladies wrinkled their noses and shot back,

"Better than shambling around looking as slovenly as you."

"Who quibbles over that in this day and age?"

"Look at the young ones these days. No man goes around looking as shabby as a duke like you."

At their glares, the old man jabbed his cane and bellowed,

"How dare a wench talk back to a man like the sky above?!"

He advanced threateningly, cane raised—but Viscount Nuanoque stepped in front of the ladies, blocking him.

"Compose yourself. Nothing uglier than a stiff mind showing on your face."

"Wh-what...!"

Gripping the end of his cane, the viscount slowly raked his eyes over the old man and drawled,

"Back in the day, getting thrashed by me was just a fond memory. These days? Might pop your coffin lid open."

The old man, who had two front teeth broken in a past spat with Viscount Nuanoque, flinched and recoiled.

Then, sputtering, "Bah! Not scared of your shit!" he stomped out with a thud-thud-thud.

The noble ladies and a few gentlemen approached him.

"Heh, I thought you'd mellowed with age, but you seem downright rejuvenated."

"No, really—you look younger."

"Doesn't your arthritis bother you anymore, Your Grace?"

[Joints talk is the signal. That's when you drop the medicine line!]

Leblain's words flashed in his mind.

"I've been taking some medicine lately."

The ladies' eyes went wide at his reluctant tone.

"Medicine?"

"Youth-restoring stuff."

"Such a thing exists?!"

The viscount awkwardly pulled a vial from his jacket pocket.

Just as Leblain had instructed, he held the bottom with his right hand, covered the back with his left in a deferential pose, and said,

"Elixir of Youth. Available now at the Hope Merchant House."

I hugged the ledger Celia had sent with an ecstatic expression.

'Ah, the sweet honeyed taste of money.'

I'd lost count of the zeros already.

Thanks to the living billboard's effect, Luminus was selling like hotcakes.

To the point where not just our target elderly crowd, but even middle-aged folks were lining up in front of the merchant house.

According to Celia, there was a 300-meter line every day.

'Nailed that ad copy.'

Nothing excited the old quite like the word "youth."

If I'd sold to everyone, I might've bought a few islands by now—but I stationed doctors to sell Luminus only to those who truly needed it.

Its full effects shone on genuine sufferers, which would pique the Empress Dowager's interest even more.

'Now just wait for the contact.'

I snickered and hid the ledger away.

"Little One, time for your meal?"

"Yeah!"

Today's breakfast was French toast—my absolute favorite. Humming, I headed down to the dining hall.

"Good morning."

"To you too, little sister."

I replied to Henri, then draped a napkin over my lap and picked up spoon and fork.

The aroma of the freshly served French toast swirled into my nostrils.

Rich egg scent mingling with sweet raspberry jam, teasing my stomach mercilessly.

I sliced it long, folded it neatly, and popped it in my mouth.

'Bliss...'

I devoured one in a flash, and a fresh one appeared on top—Dad's.

"Dad, aren't you eating?"

"Go ahead."

I never refused food.

I'd once thought it was adult thinking that made food necessary, but now older, I realized I just loved eating.

Discovering new sides of myself in this fourth life was kinda fun.

Munching away at Dad's toast—nom nom—I watched my family check newspapers and letters.

"I hear the palace is hosting a party."

Henri asked while adding sugar lumps to my tea; Dad nodded.

"Combining the Bloom Festival with a victory banquet."

Ishak plated salad for me and grimaced.

"Ugh, if it's a victory banquet too, we can't skip it."

Henri stirred my tea to dissolve the sugar and replied,

"Skip it, and someone else steals the credit."

Ishak drizzled dressing over the salad.

"We busted our asses fighting—why do no-shows get the glory? Maybe slaughter 'em all."

Henri lifted the teacup to feed me and said,

"I've told you a hundred times: watch your mouth in front of Leblain."

Ishak speared salad on his fork and held it out.

"Too annoying. Flies'll buzz around endlessly at the banquet anyway."

I groaned, unable to resist the tea and salad from both sides.

'Are they teasing me 'cause I liked the spoils more last time?'

As I pondered, Dad snatched the teacup and fork away from them, raising an eyebrow.

"Cut the games."

"But she's cute."

I pouted at Ishak's grin.

"You guys bullied me."

I glared at them with narrowed eyes.

How dare big brothers bully their little sister—such naughty boys.

I couldn't let this slide, so I said very sternly,

"No more after this, okay?"

Henri and Ishak bowed their heads, shoulders shaking. The servants attending us turned away, hands over mouths.