Chapter 89

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 89

Chapter Title: Reliable Help

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"Send me some reliable people. Four—no, make it five."

"What are the conditions?"

"They need to be good at housework."

Celia looked puzzled by my words but nodded soon enough.

"Where should I send them?"

"To Count Bartu's estate."

If Letizia didn't have time to meet because she was too busy, then all I had to do was make some time for her.

Letizia blinked in surprise at the group of people who had shown up at the Bartu estate since morning.

"You're here for an interview?"

"Yes, my lady."

A kind-looking middle-aged woman removed her beret and bowed lightly. The others with her smiled and greeted her as well.

It was baffling.

She placed job ads every week, but wages were always delayed, so no one stuck around. Hiring help was like chasing stars in the sky.

No one had come for an interview in the past three months, yet suddenly five showed up in a single morning.

And from their ages and the calluses on their hands, they looked quite experienced.

"What's going on here?"

A voice called from the stairs. It was Count Bartu, coming down with a newspaper in hand.

Letizia glanced at the group, then approached her father and lowered her voice.

"They say they're here for interviews."

"Perfect timing. The house has been a mess, and it's been getting on my nerves. Tell them to start today."

"But there are five of them. We can barely afford one salary—how could we hire five?"

"Didn't you say Duke Marshu would help us soon? Besides, your brothers are about to graduate and enter the palace. All that's left is counting the money, so stop worrying about trifles."

Her father's belief that Duke Marshu would aid the Bartu family had persisted for four years, but Marshu had never once lifted a finger to help.

On the contrary, the Bartus had even mortgaged their territory lands to work for Marshu, making their situation worse.

Letizia knew full well that her brothers entering the palace was just her father's pipe dream.

They'd poured a fortune into an elite academy for high nobles, but her brothers' graduations had been postponed for years.

As Letizia frowned, the count clicked his tongue and shoved her aside, shouting to the interviewees.

"Start working today. Get to cleaning right away, and one of you bring tea to the study."

"Father!"

Her shout brought the sound of a child crying from upstairs.

"Quit your nonsense and shut that brat up. If you came back after popping out a kid by fooling around, the least you could do is not talk back to your parents."

"......"

The count clicked his tongue again and walked off. Letizia forced herself to move.

Up in the room, her five-year-old son was sobbing, his nose red as a beet.

"I'm sorry, Lionel. Mommy yelled and scared you."

The boy sniffled and buried his face in her shoulder.

"I hate Grandpa... He picks on Mommy."

"He may speak harshly, but his heart's in the right place."

"He lies all the time... Says Grandpa's a good guy, invited me to play, but went out alone yesterday."

"All right, let's go out today."

"Really?"

"Yes. So stop crying, little one, and let's change your clothes first."

"Okay!"

The boy jumped up as if he'd never been crying and dashed to the wardrobe.

'I need to pick up some copying work too.'

If she crossed the unmanned Rosel Bridge and looped around to the shopping district, she could reach the copying room without anyone spotting the child.

Letizia dressed him and slipped out the back door.

Lionel walked alone for the first ten minutes or so before tiring out and starting to whine. The thought of carrying her hefty boy over four hours to the copying room made her vision blur.

That was when it happened.

"Lady Bartu!"

A young voice called out.

She turned to see Leblain Duvered, wearing a black cap over her ears and a bright yellow longcoat, waving wildly.

"Where are you headed?"

"Oh, to the shopping district..."

"I'm going there too! Want to come together? Tell me another old fairy tale!"

Behind Leblain stood a luxurious ebony carriage, the kind even rare in the capital.

"But..."

"Who's that kid?"

Letizia flinched. How should she explain? But Leblain went on with an "Aha."

"Your cousin, right? Nailed it!"

"......"

"The little one's cold. Come on, our carriage is super warm."

Just then, Lionel coughed.

'No adults around. I can explain the situation to Lady Duvered.'

Letizia gave in and followed as her son tugged her along.

So that's Lionel Rocar, the Grand Duke's only son.

The boy gaped at the Duvered carriage, mouth wide open. He'd clearly never ridden in one like it.

"Hi?"

He flinched at my voice.

"......Hi."

I chuckled and pulled some crisp cookies from the smallest bag beside me.

"Here."

"......"

"They're yummy. Eat up."

The boy glanced at his mother as if asking permission. Letizia gave a faint smile. "Say thank you."

"Thank you..."

He took a bite, eyes popping wide. Then he devoured the whole thing in a flash.

"I've never had anything this good..."

"Come play at my house! I've got even tastier stuff."

"Really? What's your name?"

Letizia panicked and quietly called, "Lionel."

"Don't be rude to strangers. This is Lady Duvered."

"Lady?"

He looked at me, so I nodded.

"Leblain Reset Duvered."

"Lionel!"

"Nice to meet you, Lionel."

I greeted him, then turned to Letizia.

"Where can I drop you off?"

"The back gate entrance would be perfect. Thank you."

At "back gate," Lionel pouted.

"The copying room again... Then I'll be alone while Sis goes."

He'd apparently agreed to call her "Sis" in public— the term rolled off his tongue naturally.

"Then hang out with me?"

Letizia's eyes went wide.

"I couldn't impose like that."

"It's fine. I snuck out to play but had no friends, so I was lonely. I'll tell Lionel the old stories you told me."

I grinned, and she smiled back.

"Thank you so much."

"No problem. Can Lionel and I stop by the bakery too?"

"Of course."

As we chatted, the carriage halted. We got off at the back gate and walked to the copying room.

She'd go there while Lionel and I waited at the bakery—but before she left, the boy plastered himself to the window of the novelty shop next door.

"Whoa, whoa! I know that one! That's so cool!"

I peeked over. It was a toy bow trending in the capital lately.

Pulling the string made a tiny puff of fire or ice shoot from the round magic stone acting as the arrowhead—very faint, of course.

As it had a magic stone, it was strictly for noble kids. And pricey, naturally.

"Can we just look? Please? Pleeease?"

Letizia looked troubled at her whining son.

He'd never settle for just looking. One touch, and he'd flop to the ground begging to buy it.

But she seemed weak when it came to her boy.

"Just a quick look. Promise?"

"Yes!"

He shouted brightly.

And sure enough...

I knew it.

"Buy it~! Buy it!!"

"Lionel, really!"

Letizia tried dragging her flailing son off the floor.

But Lionel clutched the sample toy bow and rolled around.

Letizia sighed, checked the price tag, and paled.

10,000 francs.

She couldn't earn that copywriting all night for a month straight.

"Get up. We'll come back next time."

But what did the kid know?

"No! Buy this! Please buy it..."

As they tussled, the shop bell jingled, and some well-dressed noble boys entered.

The biggest one strode straight toward us.

He tsked at Lionel sprawled on the floor, then snatched a far pricier toy bow than the one Lionel held.

"Whoa, it's the new one! That's the most expensive from the Hof Guild if you pull the string."

"Dad said I could get it."

"What about the last one?"

"Tossed it. Once is enough."

"Damn, you're cool! Must be nice being rich."

"Eh. But at least I don't have to roll on the floor begging for cheap crap like some gutter rat."

The boys snickered, eyeing Lionel.

Even young Lionel got the jab and stopped his tantrum cold.

Letizia's face hardened.

"What did you just say?!"

"Huh? Oh, I know you, lady."

The big boy eyed her.

"Daughter of that old guy who begged Dad for money last time. Ba... Ba... Bar... Bartu!"

As Letizia froze, he grinned.

"Knew you were trash."

He reached for the new bow—but I snatched it first.

"I'm buying this."

"What? Hey, you brat! I picked it first!"

I called the shopkeeper. The middle-aged man sorting shelves hurried over.

"Yes, what can I do?"

"Wrap it up."

"Hey! I said I picked it first! Old man, sell it to me—or I'll never come back!"

He seemed like a regular; the owner hesitated.

"Miss, perhaps choose something else..."

"Didn't say that's all."

"Pardon?"

I flashed the Duvered seal.

"I'm buying every toy in here."