Chapter 30

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 30

Chapter Title: A Warehouse Full of Poretta Leather

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"What is this?"

"It's a warehouse."

I stared at Liam with a face gone frigid at his utterly obvious reply.

Just one day after asking the Duke about Poretta leather, Liam had come to fetch me and led me to a small cabin located in the back garden of the Duke's residence.

Though it was called a cabin, it was essentially a storage shed stuffed full of unnecessary junk, just as he'd said.

The problem was...

"There's... more than I expected?"

The cabin was packed to bursting with finely prepared Poretta hides.

I gazed at the bundles of raw leather, neatly sorted by color, pattern, and size, with a look of utter exhaustion on my face.

"Ahem. His Highness the Duke graciously commanded that all the Poretta hides roaming around the Duchy be gathered up and delivered here for you, Princess."

"Ah..."

He didn't need to go this far.

Was he perhaps trying to mess with me since I flat-out refused to tell him?

Even after Liam departed having completed his errand, I still couldn't bring myself to step inside the warehouse. I just stood there frozen.

At that moment, Bonita, who was nearby, spoke up.

"But why on earth did you need so much Poretta leather?"

"Well..."

I trailed off as I took a step forward.

Inside the cabin warehouse, with its door flung wide open, even more Poretta hides filled the space than I'd seen from outside.

However, they hadn't gone through any special cleaning or processing yet, so each one was caked with residues and reeked terribly.

"Ugh."

"...I'll prepare a handkerchief to plug your nose next time."

Bonita, who had entered completely unprepared, wrinkled her nose and stepped back.

But I ignored the pungent animal stench stinging my nostrils and ventured deeper inside.

From behind came Bonita's horrified cry.

"Mi-Miss?"

"Hmm."

I pulled out one of the nearest bundles for a closer look, and out came a sheet of Poretta leather far longer and heavier than the average man's body.

Upon closer inspection, it was a bit rough since it was unprocessed, but it bore some resemblance to the blackout curtain fabric I'd made back in Salt.

Nothing for certain until it was properly handled, though.

"Bonita."

I turned toward Bonita, who had by now become my personal encyclopedia—answering anything and everything, my very own Speedwagon.

"Yes?"

"How do you turn this leather into fabric?"

It was a rather out-of-the-blue question, but rather than being stumped, Bonita seemed to think I was testing her. She shrugged and replied.

"Of course there are experts who process it. Mrs. Rainy is a seamstress second to none in our Brail Duchy."

"...I see!"

I showered her with an unabashed gaze of admiration before bolting out of the cabin.

Any longer in that foul-smelling hellhole, and my nose would rot off.

"Could I possibly meet Mrs. Rainy?"

"She supplies high-end fabrics to the Duke's household, so she'll likely visit again at dawn tomorrow!"

Dawn...

I pondered briefly before nodding agreeably.

I had no choice but to rise at first light anyway.

The previous day, I'd gone alone to the library to hunt for information on Poretta, only to get dragged into the artists' meeting after dinner and pull an all-nighter.

Actually, I'd tried to slip away midway for even a bit of shut-eye, but with hollow-eyed, zombie-like Ashley right beside me, I couldn't muster the will to move.

Which meant this morning's condition was the absolute worst.

So... sleepy.

They say sleep deprivation is the cruelest torture.

I couldn't even stifle a yawn while sitting face-to-face with Mrs. Rainy.

A moment later, Mrs. Rainy—who'd been intently examining the plump, ruddy leather for ages—shook her head slowly.

"Hmm... I'm afraid it'll be difficult."

It was an unexpected response.

Seeing her troubled expression, I pressed her with a face even more desperate than yesterday.

"Why... whatever do you mean?"

"Turning Poretta leather into fabric isn't hard in itself, but the compensation is low compared to the effort. It's such common leather..."

A total chicken rib, then?

She set the Poretta leather aside entirely and wiped her hands with a damp handkerchief before continuing.

"In this sweltering heat, there's far more demand for thin, light fabrics like chiffon or lace."

Even phrasing it so delicately despite her direct ties to the Duke's house—but the refusal in her eyes was plain as day.

No.

Was my dream of cozy, sunless mornings destined to vanish just like that?

After agonizing over it, I decided to stall for time first.

"Bonita, could you prepare some cool tea for Mrs. Rainy?"

"Yes! Right away, Miss!"

While the sharp Bonita stepped out, I frantically brainstormed.

Come to think of it, the manga I'd wanted before, the blackout curtains... I'd just made them because I wanted them, without any real system in place.

The manga business profits and the artists' paychecks(?) were all handled by Liam even now.

But one ironclad fact I knew for sure...

The royalties stacked up in my name must be massive.

If money was what Mrs. Rainy wanted, I could accommodate her easily.

And even if this blackout curtain project drained a fortune, I'd recoup it in no time.

Surely people needing blackout curtains aren't limited to the Duchy?

Salt Kingdom alone was overflowing with poor administrators who could only collapse into bed at dawn after all-night shifts.

"Mrs. Rainy."

"...Yes?"

Mrs. Rainy, quietly sipping the iced tea Bonita had brewed, set her cup down in mild alarm at the shift in my tone.

"What's the priciest fabric you handle?"

"...Lace commands the highest price, absent any special terms."

Then I'd price the Poretta leather higher than lace, no question.

With my resolve firm, I replied more assuredly.

"I'll pay you more than that. And if overtime is needed, I'll double the allowance."

"......Pardon?"

Gasp...!

Bonita? Or maybe Mrs. Rainy's assistant?

Someone's sharp intake of breath echoed loudly.

Soon enough, Mrs. Rainy's steadfast gaze began to quiver.

I knew that look all too well.

Eyes torn between duty and dollar signs.

Mrs. Rainy surely knew Poretta leather had no demand and was a pain to process.

She'd been set on refusing somehow—but well.

Hard to turn down that much cash?

And truth be told, everyone present knew Poretta leather was far easier to work than lace stitched painstakingly by hand.

"That said, we'll need to recruit professional tanners for the leather processing and additional manpower."

This time, I sipped my tea leisurely.

Slurrrp.

When I glanced back up at Mrs. Rainy, her face wore a look of utter bewilderment.

Nice.

"...So, what exactly are you planning to make?"

"I'm going to make curtains."

"Curtains?"

Just one curtain worth overtime pay?

...I could practically hear her thoughts, but I had my rationale.

It's an investment.

What if I poured my accumulated royalties into startup capital and launched a full-blown blackout curtain business using this Poretta leather?

Plus—and I'd nearly forgotten—I'd spun my wheels nonstop back in Salt Kingdom, so I knew merchant collaborations inside out.

For instance.

One: Scoop up the Duchy’s surplus Poretta leather on the cheap.

Two: Hire affordable leather processors.

Three: Once the blackout curtains are ready, link up with trading caravans hitting multiple countries and outsource sales.

No way I'll take a loss.

As I'd mused earlier, night-shift jobs weren't unique to the 21st century.

In this world without labor rights, they were downright commonplace.

This'll be my lifelong venture.

I loathed going out more than death itself, but when it meant averting actual sleep-deprived demise? Different story.

Since things had come to this, why not go big, rake in the cash...?

And if push came to shove, independence too...

Yeah. Independence.

If I pulled that off, I could finally shake off my image as a freeloading houseguest and deck out my precious sanctuary with blackout curtains everywhere.

(Though comics demand the latest chapters first, so settling in the Brail Duchy was non-negotiable, but still.)

"Heh heh, heh heh heh..."

Drifting into delightful fantasies, I unwittingly let slip a creepy little chuckle.

Utterly oblivious to the weird stares from those around me.