Chapter 11

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 11

Chapter Title: Comic Books?

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"Man... comics?"

The Duke wore an utterly peculiar expression. At his ambiguous reaction—neither affirmation nor denial—I nodded awkwardly.

Surely he wasn't going to say no at this point, right? I mean, it wasn't like I'd proposed some contract marriage or anything.

But the question that followed completely missed my expectations.

"What is that?"

"Pardon?"

No, he didn't even get as far as yes or no—he straight-up didn't know what a comic book was!?

All the countless comics I'd read flashed before my eyes, but when it came time to define one, the words stuck in my throat.

"Uh, well... Regular books are just words, right?"

"That's true."

"Yes, but comic books, as the name suggests, express the book's content through pictures."

"Hm."

A brief silence fell.

But I caught it. In that split second, the Duke's ever-stoic poker face cracked ever so slightly. It snapped back as if it had been my imagination, though.

I cautiously opened my mouth again.

"Does that make sense, by any chance?"

"Yes, but..."

The Duke, who had been sitting with an air of arrogance, crossed his legs the other way.

My eyes were glued to those endlessly long legs as they shifted, so I missed what he said next.

"Is that all you want?"

"...Pardon?"

"I asked if comics are all the princess desires."

"...Ah, if it's possible, I'd like an extra snack or two."

After all, good food strikes the perfect balance of sweet and salty.

But lately, the meals had been mostly simple, healthy fare.

I appreciated not having to serve myself, but humans always want to sit when standing and lie down when sitting...

"Something sweet would be nice, or salty isn't bad either... haha."

But no sooner had I spoken than the faint smile on the Duke's face vanished.

"Princess, I said I'd pay you for helping with the duchy’s affairs."

"Y-You did."

"And all you want is comic books and snacks?"

"Yes. Is... is there something wrong with that...?"

As his expression darkened, I could’ve sworn the temperature in the room dropped.

What was it? What was the problem?

He’d said “all you want,” so it didn’t seem like my requests were too extravagant.

"Ha."

The Duke bowed his head. I froze, bracing for anger, but then came a soft chuckle.

He lifted his head again, covering his mouth with a straight-fingered hand, his face full of amused bewilderment.

"...Truly fascinating."

It was a handsome smile on a handsome face, yet for some reason, my mood grew increasingly uneasy.

As I stared at him in bewilderment, the Duke nodded as if he’d made up his mind.

"Very well. Comics it is. You’ll have them as you wish."

I eyed him suspiciously right up until I left the study, only relaxing once I was out.

Liam, waiting by the door, bowed his head.

"Allow me to escort you to your room."

Thud, thud.

Step, step.

Our footsteps echoed loudly in the empty corridor—mine and Liam’s.

Liam, who had stayed silent the whole way, finally spoke just as I was starting to drift into my own thoughts.

"As you instructed, we offered jobs to those on the selected list. They all accepted, of course."

I stared blankly at Liam, who sounded like he was reporting on some official business.

Why was he telling me this?

But as always, the eye behind his monocle showed no hint of emotion.

It was hard to nitpick, so I nodded vaguely.

"I see."

"We’ll assign those with chronic illnesses or advanced age to lighter tasks, with due care."

"Uh-huh."

"Oh, and the Black Eagle Unit prefers surprisingly simple meals, so we can source ingredients locally within the territory."

"Yep."

My responses had zero enthusiasm—you could search and not find a shred—but Liam pressed on undeterred.

‘Please, can’t you talk to someone else about this?’

This was terribly awkward for me.

I’d only helped with the dam construction this once; I had no intention of doing more.

"...In conclusion, the territory’s morale has soared."

"That’s great to hear."

I tried my hardest to give the most perfunctory reply possible, hoping he’d finally get the hint.

"Belated, but thank you."

I shook my head at his quiet addition.

"I only did what was asked of me."

In truth, it had been half-forced.

He had to remember pushing me into it, yet here he was thanking me.

I couldn’t even guess how thick the iron plating was on Liam’s face.

"It wasn’t just that—you even cared for the welfare of the outcasts."

"...Well."

I stubbornly stared straight ahead. It felt weird getting praise for something so obvious.

Above all, this godforsaken world sorely lacked human rights awareness.

Even I—young, healthy(?), and knowing the future—struggled to get by. How much worse for others?

But instead of spilling my guts, I half-jokingly replied,

"Then could you stop surveilling me?"

Liam’s middle finger casually adjusted his monocle.

"That’s not possible. Neglecting assigned duties would be dereliction."

"Sigh..."

Our light bickering brought us to my door before I knew it.

Before entering, I looked up at Liam one last time.

"You’ve worked hard."

So please stop tormenting me now.

As I bowed politely and reached for the door, his quiet voice came again.

"I’ll see you again tomorrow."

...Tomorrow?

Why? What business do we have? It’s just a courtesy, right?

It was a perfectly ordinary farewell, but inexplicable anxiety made my heart pound wildly.

Defying my suspicions, Liam’s words came true.

Or rather, it happened just a few hours later. A loud knock jolted me awake early in the morning.

Still half-asleep as I washed up, I glanced at the clock: 6 a.m., still dawn.

Normally, I’d be deep in dreamland...

"What’s this so early? Don’t you sleep?"

"My philosophy is that sleep is for the dead."

Why are you doing this to me?

"...Watch what you say."

I grumbled in a surly voice, but it bounced right off Liam.

He dragged my protesting self to a massive door.

Faint murmurs came from inside, suggesting people were there.

"Where is this...?"

"You’ll see soon enough."

Creeeak.

The huge double doors swung open, and I felt like I’d stumbled into a maze.

A vast hall held a crowd of people.

"Who are all these...?"

"Artists. Ah, to be precise, artists to draw the ‘comic books’ you requested."

I scanned the group huddled in a circle with wide-eyed astonishment.

Some were middle-aged or older; one even looked like he’d been dragged here still in slippers.

And they seemed just as baffled by this, stealing glances at Liam and me with undisguised confusion.

Liam strode to the center and began introducing them to me.

"This is Sir Brown, formerly of the imperial court painters, followed by Sir Kedric and Sir Robid, who taught art at the academy."

Then the crowd behind them...?

"Pleased to meet you. I’m Brown, and these are my apprentices."

Ah, I see.

I numbly grasped the wrinkled hand extended to me and shook it with Sir Brown, his long white beard swaying as I bowed.

"Y-Yes, pleased to meet you..."

My head was already throbbing.

They’d brought in a former imperial painter—with a string of apprentices—to draw comic books?

Ignoring my stunned state, Liam declared proudly,

"With His Grace the Duke of Brail’s support, I trust you’ll produce splendid comic books going forward.

...Is this for real?

These elite talents, all for comic books just for me!?)