Chapter 53

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 53

Chapter Title: Audience with the Empress

-----------------------------------------------------------------

“Mm...”

I had been endlessly scanning the floor with my gaze, but now I cautiously lifted my head.

“So, I'm curious what answer you'll give, Lady.”

The Empress's seemingly benevolent smile felt especially vicious today.

Thanks to all my hard work building her favor, at least she wasn't openly hostile. That had to count as a silver lining.

Right—this was the Empress's palace.

I'd rushed here bright and early after receiving word that she wanted to see me.

Why? Because news of my mass-producing tumblers had spread far and wide.

Of course, I'd deliberately leaked that rumor to drive down the premiums...

'I had no idea it'd rub the owners of rare merchandise the wrong way this badly.'

I'd anticipated some backlash, but I never dreamed the Empress would summon me right away.

In the rigidly tense atmosphere, I clasped my hands tightly and spoke up.

“First off, since I sensed there might be some room for misunderstanding, I've been wondering how best to explain things to Your Highness.”

“So you're saying this is all just my misunderstanding? How exactly do you plan to convince me?”

I didn't need to ask to know why the Empress was offended.

She'd flaunted her ownership of the goods to high heaven, carrying her tumbler to every social event under the sun.

For someone accustomed to using one-of-a-kind items made exclusively for her, this whole situation must have felt like a direct challenge to her authority.

'I started this mess, so I'll clean it up.'

After studying her face to get a read on the situation, I pressed on.

“...To start with, what we're producing in the duchy right now isn't the Ghost Duke tumbler.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

The Empress furrowed her brow and raised her voice at my words.

“I've seen the ads running in all sorts of magazines myself, and I even sent someone to look into it. They said your cooperation with the Magic Tower was going swimmingly...”

She'd gone so far as to dispatch investigators. I'd known she was thorough, but this was next-level meticulousness.

Shoving my thoughts aside, I affirmed her statement.

“Yes, it's true—we are producing tumblers in our duchy, Your Highness.”

“Lady, are you trying to play word games with me right now?”

Before her patience could wear thin, I shifted to a gentler tone and started over.

“That's not what I meant at all. The cups held by Your Highness and the hundred devoted readers are rare Ghost Duke originals. What we're making now replicates only their function.”

“Only the function?”

“Yes. Design-wise and otherwise, it's basically a completely different product from the one you have.”

But my explanation—that mass-produced items differed from limited editions—didn't seem to sway her. Her expression stayed stubbornly stern.

Time for Plan B, then.

Taking a steadying breath, I let out a deep, pitiful sigh.

“The truth is, scammers running rampant in the capital have put Safety Rules of the Haunted Duke's Castle on the brink of being shunned by its readers, Your Highness.”

“What are you talking about? I did hear about tumbler scams flooding the capital. But how does that connect to readers turning away?”

“The more victims there are, the more that affection for the story will erode.”

“And? Fans who love it will keep loving it anyway.”

No, not quite.

I shook my head briskly.

“Once a work starts getting ignored by the masses, it loses its shot at real recognition. And that opens the door to issues like cancellation or halted serialization.”

Of course, the actual odds of it going that far were maybe 0.1 percent, but I skipped mentioning the fine print.

Maybe that's why her face darkened dramatically, as if she'd just heard the worst possible news.

“Is that really true?”

“Yes. We could brush this off as mere scammers at work... but if we care about the readers who adore the story, I don't think we can just let it slide.”

I didn't spell it out, but this was also for the fans who couldn't snag a limited edition but still craved something similar.

The genuine article remained exclusive to those hundred people, including the Empress, after all.

Her expression eased a touch at my follow-up, and she slowly leaned back against her chair.

Soon, lips pursed slightly, she spoke in a more solemn tone.

“I see. And if these scams tarnish the reputation of Safety Rules of the Haunted Duke's Castle, then yes, it needs to be dealt with swiftly.”

Without even pausing for my response, she tacked on her decision.

“I'll take care of this myself.”

“Pardon? How...?”

But she already seemed locked into her own plan. Had she even registered my question...?

'She'll handle it properly, won't she?'

In the end, despite the urgent summons, I got a simple dismissal and trudged out of the palace.

And so, after all the ups and downs, word arrived that tumbler production was nearing completion.

I reread the letter from the Magic Tower, propped my chin on my hand, and sank into thought.

“Hmm.”

No matter how I turned it over in my mind, reprinting the Ghost Duke tumbler—even in limited numbers—would seriously upset everyone who already owned one.

Which meant... no special treatment for folks like Baron Pavron.

'No internet means no one else knows, but a promise is still a promise...'

Still, pretending it didn't exist stabbed at my conscience something fierce.

Why? Baron Pavron had blown his entire fortune, and on top of that, he had an invalid wife to care for.

I'd even requested a discreet background check just in case he was a con artist, but the results matched expectations.

His finances were spotless—not a speck of dirt in sight—which was proof enough of his upstanding life.

“I heard tumblers are excellent for keeping things warm. I just wanted one to keep my wife's soup from cooling while I fed her...”

I flopped over onto the cluttered desk, heaving heavy sighs.

I was sick of agonizing until my brain cramped...

'Is there some other way I can help him out?'

Someone might chew me out for wasting sympathy on strangers.

But with my twenty-first-century sensibilities, ignoring someone suffering right in front of me was easier said than done.

'Back in elementary school, I was the kid who faithfully donated to help the needy neighbors.'

At any rate, one thing was crystal clear: no identical tumbler designs.

As I sat there chin-propped in silence, my eyes drifted to the papers sketching out tumbler designs.

'...The current tumbler's just for drinks. It's not ideal for holding actual food.'

For storing meals for a sick wife, it'd need to be bigger than anything on the market, at least.

A handle would make it even better.

“...!”

And just like that, a decent idea flashed across my mind.

'It insulates drinks, so food should stay hot for half a day too. What about a thermos instead?'

Plus, thermoses had technically come first anyway.

I slowly straightened up, adjusting my posture.

The timeline was backwards again, but a thermos would deliver results even better than a tumbler.

A faint smile tugged at my lips as I grabbed paper and pen to draft a new letter.