Chapter 55

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 55

Chapter Title: The Marchioness's Fury

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It had been about a day since I'd sent off a separately packed thermos from the latest batch.

As soon as dawn broke, word arrived that Baron Pavron wished to meet with the Duke and me.

"Your Grace, the Duke, and Lady."

In the small parlor attached to the palace wing where the Duke was staying.

The baron we met there again looked unrecognizably healthier.

"I don't even know how to thank you properly..."

Baron Pavron fiddled with his neatly tied cravat, a choked breath escaping through his teeth.

I gently steered the conversation elsewhere, worried he might burst into tears right in front of the Duke.

"You must be busy tending to your ailing wife. Is it really all right for you to visit so early?"

"Yes. The physician is looking after her now, so I took a moment. Haha."

Baron Pavron chuckled lightly, then curled his lips into a smile and turned his gaze to me.

"Besides, if I didn't come express my thanks first, my wife would think even less of me."

The baron scratched the back of his head sheepishly and wiped away the tears pooling in his eyes.

"The thermos kept the soup warm for so long, but the food inside didn't stick or spoil easily either. What kind of magic did you work on it...?"

"The Magic Tower's mages handle the production. They're working hard to ensure the products function perfectly."

Even at this very moment.

Baron Pavron's eyes lit up at my words, and he replied in a slightly excited tone.

"As expected of the Magic Tower! Thanks to it, I can finally take my wife far away. I was already thinking of heading back to my hometown soon."

"Your hometown? It must be pretty far from here."

"Not too far, but..."

I was listening contentedly to the baron's impressions when a commotion started up nearby.

"Please let go of that!"

"You can't do this, madam!"

The parlor door, which had been firmly shut, burst open with a bang.

And striding in with a thunderous shout was...

"You scoundrel!"

...a noblewoman dressed in what was clearly an expensive gown.

'Huh? Did she get the wrong palace?'

Come to think of it, I'd heard the imperial palace was full of guests these days, and some of them wandered into the wrong sections.

I figured this was one of those cases and expected the lady to apologize and leave.

But the woman, her fingers adorned with rings as thick as marbles, had no intention of going anywhere. Instead, she greeted the Duke with a fierce glare.

"Duke of Brail."

"...Why is the Marchioness of Embros here?"

"I've come to witness the disgrace over your heir issue. Hah. Excuse me."

With a chilling tone, she stepped further inside and shot a piercing look at Baron Pavron.

Even more surprising was Baron Pavron's reaction upon spotting the uninvited guest.

"M-Mother!?"

Huh? His mother? That wealthy-looking noblewoman?

My bewilderment at her appearance—so utterly unlike her son's circumstances—was fleeting.

In an instant, Baron Pavron went pale as a ghost and began trembling so pitifully that I could hardly watch, backing away step by step.

But why had Baron Pavron's mother come all the way here?

Luckily—or unluckily—the mystery was solved soon enough.

"And now you've stooped to illegal auctions, getting yourself dragged off by the knights? You're dead set on ruining the family name!"

"M-Mother! It's not that—ack!"

Slap! Slap!

She closed the distance in a flash and started smacking his back mercilessly before he could even finish.

What on earth was going on?

I stood there dumbfounded, unable to make sense of the unfolding scene, when my eyes met the Duke's beside me.

"Do you... know her?"

The Duke looked just as baffled, but he nodded honestly at my question.

He leaned in and whispered softly in my ear.

"It's the Marchioness of Embros."

"What!?"

I covered my mouth in disbelief and asked again.

"Embros?"

"Yeah."

"The Marchioness of Embros!?"

"That's right."

So, the Marchioness of Embros was actually Baron Pavron's mother?

I had good reason to be so shocked.

What did the Embros Company do, exactly?

'A merchant guild that delivers goods the fastest, backed by massive capital and scale.'

In simple terms, it functioned like Korea's CJ Logistics.

Of course, the prices were so high that commoners couldn't easily afford it, but Embros guaranteed lightning-fast delivery.

Plus, thanks to the solid trust built over years of business, they even enjoyed smooth customs clearance.

In other words, far more convenient than the Magic Tower, which could take months just for overseas shipping procedures.

Perhaps because it played such a crucial role in logistics and distribution.

The Embros Company featured prominently in the original story as well.

That's how I'd already encountered the Marchioness of Embros through the novel.

And her backstory too.

'...Talk about stumbling into a major player by chance.'

The Magic Tower was already suffering under a flood of consumer complaints.

Production demand was being met, but customs delays were the bottleneck...

Of course, I'd thought of Embros, but they valued long-term partnerships too much to switch.

Who knew we'd cross paths like this.

'I can't let this golden opportunity slip away!'

After being ground down in Korea's black-company hell and now here with Remeia.

I knew all too well the plight of the overworked, so I couldn't just stand by and watch the Magic Tower suffer.

Gripping my skirt tightly, I took a step forward.

"P-Please, wait a moment, madam?"

"What is it?"

Unlike Baron Pavron, the Marchioness of Embros had such a fierce demeanor it was hard to even approach her.

Her impeccably groomed appearance, without a single flaw, hinted at her meticulous personality.

But she must care deeply for her son to act this way.

Undeterred by her sharp retort, I clasped my hands politely and walked toward her.

Then I gently wrapped my fingers around the back of her hand, still gripping Baron Pavron's collar.

"Whatever worries you, put them at ease. We have taken care of everything regarding your son."

Flashing the brightest 'salesman' smile imaginable.

"...So, you made the thermos after hearing about her foolish son and his sick daughter-in-law."

"Yes, that's right."

Captured by April, the Marchioness of Embros eyed her with clear displeasure.

For a businesswoman to her core, sizing up a new acquaintance was second nature.

The comics sweeping the capital and continent, the blackout curtains, tumblers, and now thermoses.

All created by the lady sitting before her—it was unexpected.

She'd assumed the thermos was just an extension of the tumbler to meet demand, but no, it was for her own daughter-in-law's illness.

'Hmm.'

Her eyes narrowed as she thought of Pavron's wife, Elena.

Comparing her eldest son's wife—chosen for family standing—with her youngest daughter's husband only highlighted their flaws.

Wouldn't her second son's wife, sharp-minded and skilled in household management despite the humble home, be better?

She'd never intended to cut ties; her love-struck son had misunderstood and run off alone.

In the end, the Embros couple were the real victims here.

'That idiot won't even think to reconcile first.'

The marchioness glanced sidelong at Baron Pavron, standing a short distance away.

She hadn't imagined her unseen daughter-in-law's illness was that severe...

If she'd known sooner, she would have mobilized every resource to get her treatment as fast as possible.

Pondering April's explanation, she spoke up.

"So, you're asking me to help distribute the thermoses?"

"Not just the thermoses—I'd love your help with distributing the comics and other products too."

"A business proposal, then. What are the terms?"

Countless merchant guilds had begged for deals with Embros over the years—too many to count. This one would be no different.

But since she'd helped her worthless son, she was willing to hear her out.

However.

"Right now, you're looking to trade with the Ilamena Federation, aren't you, Marchioness? And to utilize their cheap labor."

April's response beautifully shattered her expectations.

"I'll introduce you to the representative of Count Golbro, who owns the largest merchant guild in 'Berle,' one of the federation states."

"What did you just—?!"

"The representative is Count Golbro's daughter, Genevra Golbro. You've heard of her, right?"

The Marchioness of Embros's jaw dropped.