Chapter 77

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 77

Chapter Title: Counterfeit Seizure

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A forest road near the Brail Duchy.

Glimpses of gleaming armor flashed between the densely planted low shrubs before vanishing once more.

It wasn't long before several covered wagons pulled by donkeys came rumbling into view.

"Hold position."

At the knight captain's raised hand, the ambushing knights snapped into ready formation.

Soon, as the wagons drew right up to them, the knights surged forward at the captain's signal, surrounding the merchant caravan in one fluid motion.

"Wh-who are you?!"

A few hired mercenaries put up a reflexive fight as bodyguards, but they stood no chance against the trained knights.

In less than five minutes, the caravan leader included, everyone was forced to their knees on the ground.

"Gasp! The... the House of Brail?!"

Recognizing the insignia on the knights' swords as belonging to the duke's house, the caravan leader's face drained of color.

Knights from noble houses only stepped in for enforcement when it directly harmed their territory or family.

But no matter how he racked his brain, he couldn't recall doing anything to harm Brail.

"Oh no! Why are you doing this? We were just transporting a few items as requested to the Brail Duchy—we're not selling anything here. There must be some misunderstanding..."

A horse came to a halt before the caravan leader, who was pleading his innocence with a baffled expression.

Descending from it was none other than Liam, the duke's right-hand aide.

"What goods are you handling?"

"M-mostly just odds and ends."

Liam's gaze shifted to the wagons at the man's quick reply.

The knights were pulling off the covers and searching; inside were indeed only things like thread, needles, and whetstones.

"Hold it. Right there—freeze."

Liam strode right up to one wagon and issued the order.

"Unload everything."

"Y-yes, sir!"

The caravan leader's anxious eyes followed the knights as they emptied the wagon.

Soon, the floor was exposed. More precisely, a lid securely fastened with nails.

"Wh-what?!"

Before the panicked caravan leader could protest, Liam's hand moved.

His blunt sword sheath pierced the sturdy wood easily, revealing the contents.

It was a tumbler and a thermos—both designed personally by April.

"Fetch His Grace the Duke."

At the curt command, the knights hurried off.

Not long after, the Duke of Brail arrived on the scene astride a sleek black warhorse.

His face bore the exhaustion of overwork, but that did little to diminish the overwhelming pressure he exuded.

"This it?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

The duke approached the wagon, picked out one tumbler, tossed it to the dirt ground, and crushed it underfoot.

Crunch!

The tumbler shattered helplessly under the impact, its fragments scattering pitifully.

"Just as I thought."

A fake.

Kaian looked down coldly at the kneeling caravan leader and demanded answers.

"What is this?"

"Eek..."

The man's face, already as pale as it could get, turned ashen as he finally stammered an excuse.

"Th-that... Someone asked us to transport it to the Brail Duchy. We just took the commission—we don't know the details."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"It's true! P-please believe me!"

"...We'll take your full statement later. Take them into custody for now."

"This is an injustice, Your Grace!"

As the knights dragged the captives away, Liam, inspecting the rest of the wagon's contents, spotted something and raised an eyebrow.

"Your Grace, a moment."

What he held out to Kaian was none other than a newspaper.

Kaian took it, scanning the headline in bold letters and skimming the contents.

The column claiming tumblers and thermoses spread disease was filled with utterly biased information.

And more importantly...

"Lady Elegance again this time."

A meaningful murmur escaped his lips.

Having set up another meeting with Baroness Pavron, I returned to the duchy for now.

The duke must have gathered some intel in the meantime, and no matter how we proceeded, sharing what I'd learned was essential.

"Where is His Grace?"

"He just got back and headed to his study."

"Thanks!"

After confirming his location with Bonita, I hurried straight to his study in my outing clothes.

Knock knock.

"Come in."

I opened the door quickly at the immediate response.

"Oh..."

I froze just inside, rooted to the spot near the door.

Because...

There, smack in the middle of the study, stood the duke—clearly just back from outside—removing his heavy armor. Our eyes met perfectly.

"Ah, no. If you're changing, you should've told them to have me come back later..."

His skin wasn't exposed, but the solid muscles visible through his loose shirt were impossible to hide.

I forcibly tore my gaze away before it could linger, blinking rapidly as I stared down at the carpet.

"It's just taking off the armor."

"Still..."

A handsome guy undressing like a photoshoot model gets my heart racing whether I want it to or not!

Do all good-looking people lack awareness of their own devastating effect?

Plus, the only ripped, handsome guys I knew were the duke and Ian, so I had zero resistance.

As I floundered awkwardly, the duke set aside his sheathed sword and sank comfortably onto the nearby sofa.

"How did it go with the empress?"

His question came out dry and impassive.

I let out a dramatic sigh.

"Not well. She said she'd hold me responsible if we don't sort this out quick."

"...Is that so?"

"Yeah, she scared me half to death."

It wasn't quite that bad, but... I played it up anyway.

After all, the only person I could vent to without reservation was the duke, whose livelihood wasn't tied to this venture.

I sat opposite him on the sofa, propping my chin and frowning.

"What if this lands me in the imperial prison?"

"That won't happen."

"How can you be so sure? The crown prince might seize the chance to dig a trap for me."

Still hung up on rejecting the crown prince's offer last time, I muttered in a sulky tone.

The duke's brow furrowed deeply.

'Hm?'

Did I mess up?

Realizing I'd overlooked my stingy employer's mood, I mentally scolded myself and checked his expression.

He had to be more on edge than usual given the circumstances.

Not wanting to irk him, I swiftly changed the subject.

"Anyway... I heard something odd from Baroness Pavron."

When I relayed the news about Marquis Stefan's house, he nodded.

"...While you were in the capital, I tracked the painters who quit on the princess. Most headed to Marquis Stefan's territory."

So it was true.

That explained how Marquis Stefan's house had comics ready so quickly.

But even so, pinning the business rumors on them lacked solid proof.

It supported the theory that they'd scouted our apprentice painters to copy us, but nothing else.

Lost in thought for a moment, I glanced at the duke and noticed his unusually troubled expression.

"Um, Your Grace."

"...?"

"Is something wrong? Your face..."

When I asked cautiously, he shook it off as if nothing, wiping away the unease.

"No. Oh, and while you were away, we caught another caravan trying to bring fake tumblers and thermoses into Brail territory..."

"W-wait. Another one? You caught a group last time too—wasn't that the end of it?"

"Looks like they're systematically distributing them across the empire."

"Did you uncover the mastermind?"

We'd nabbed two groups, so there had to be some gains, right?

But the duke's response dashed my hopes.

"The merchants used for transport are genuine innocents. Even the client's address they received was a fake—as if they anticipated this."

They were more meticulous than I'd thought.

At the same time, it made me question if Marquis Stefan's house was really behind it.

Suspicious timing with the comics, sure, but no grudge strong enough to sabotage our other ventures.

"Hmm."

As I racked my brain for connections, his voice came again.

"There's just one thing that bothers me."

"Hm? What?"

"The author of the articles on the dangers of blackout curtains, tumblers, and thermoses."