Her Plan
Her plan.
"Everyone's here, then? Good. From this moment, we will proceed with our discussion regarding Viscount Bjorn."
Having stepped away from the desk she usually occupied in her study, Freyja gathered their attention and spoke out.
Gordon, the steadfast head butler who always watched over Freyja's safety.
Fenril, once the boss of the organization that ruled this territory's underworld, now a knight granted her title by Freyja herself.
Estel, founding chairman of the Hansung Group, and at present the Third Princess of the Elf Kingdom.
And Curmon, once Viscount Bjorn's dog, cast aside and put through hellish days until he had come to obey Freyja completely.
Of everyone currently in the manor, these were the ones Freyja could trust outside her own family.
"Combining the intelligence gathered by our informants with the materials Felix collected on his own, we expect Viscount Bjorn to visit our territory in roughly two months — in the Thirteenth Month."
The original novel, Flame of Dawn, was set in a medieval fantasy world, yet it was riddled with authorial conveniences that spat on historical accuracy — a capital city, flush toilets, Arabic numerals, and the like. As a result, the concepts of time and dates were the same as Earth's; the only real difference was an extra month tacked on after December, making thirteen in total.
"I believe he is aiming for the New Year's banquet held in the Thirteenth Month."
And that was precisely why Viscount Bjorn had his sights set on the Thirteenth Month.
In the Empire, it was tradition that when the final month of the year arrived, nobles gathered in the imperial capital to host a party welcoming the coming New Year. Of course, the stated purpose was to celebrate the new year, but in truth the custom ran far deeper into politics — a holdover from an era when imperial authority had been uncertain, used to investigate the nobles' movements and forge various connections.
By now the imperial family's power had grown immense, reigning firmly over the nobility, yet the New Year's banquet continued without fail. First, to demonstrate that the imperial house remained strong and held absolute authority; and second, because it had evolved into a social gathering where the imperial heirs cultivated their own networks of influence.
"It appears they intend to store the monsters they've collected in our territory first, then conduct transactions with the nobles assembled for the New Year's banquet."
"With the banquet as cover, they can make contact openly without raising suspicion. They've put some thought into this."
"Store them here like a warehouse, then on the way back after the banquet ends, drop by Evergarden Territory to collect the monsters and close the deals. That seems to be the idea."
"Hmm… I see."
"Indeed…"
"Oh-ho…"
And so, while Freyja passionately continued the discussion — having already pieced together Viscount Bjorn's conspiracy through the intelligence they had gathered and her own powers of deduction — Gordon, Fenril, and Curmon listened with solemn expressions.
But inside their heads, only a single thought had been circling since the meeting began.
Namely:
So just how hot a night did those two have yesterday?
Thinking about it, it was only natural.
This was Countess Freyja Evergarden — the woman who always wore a gentle smile even as she ruthlessly worked them to the bone, all while flawlessly handling her own duties. Their marital relationship had never seemed particularly bad, yet unlike ordinary noble couples, she and her husband kept separate bedrooms, and she had thrown herself into work day after day.
And now the rumor was that she had been carried into the bedroom in Darian's arms in broad daylight and stayed locked away in there the entire day. (The gossip had already spread so thoroughly that every soul in Evergarden Manor knew.) Of course they couldn't help but be curious.
On top of that, she was wearing a collar that covered far more of her neck than usual, and had wrapped a scarf around her throat — something she never normally used. Moreover, every time she moved, she kept fretting over whether the scarf might come loose, so blatantly that it was plain as day to their eyes.
They could only conclude that something special was marked there — something she had no desire to show anyone else. Honestly, there was no other explanation.
To think the Master and Madam's relationship has grown this warm… This Gordon is deeply moved…!
Though he showed nothing on his face, Gordon — who had lately begun to worry that their affection had cooled from the near-total absence of shared nights — was inwardly overflowing with joy and emotion.
That Madam, that intensely… Good heavens…!? What kind of play did they get up to for her to end up like that…!? Ah, no…! Tail, calm down, please…!
Fenril, who always presented a gallant and tough exterior yet secretly nurtured a girlish streak deep in her heart, was dying of curiosity about the marks beneath that scarf, and had been fighting to keep her restlessly swishing tail under control for some time now.
…Haah. I want to go home. How long has it been since I last saw my wife's face…?
And Curmon, who hadn't been allowed to leave work for nearly two months and whose memory of his wife's face was growing faint, watched them with a gaze full of envy.
Still, they mustn't let it show—
…mustn't.
…mustn't.
…right.
For mere employees to pry into the bedroom affairs of a noblewoman as exalted as Freyja would be the height of impropriety. However curious they were, the three of them somehow managed to hold it in.
"So? Was last night hot?"
"Pffft—!?"
"Ghk—!?"
"…Oh my."
But Estel, who cared nothing for such considerations, lobbed a full-speed, no-holds-barred fastball straight at Freyja — and the three of them all spat out their composure at once.
"Eh? Hah!? What?! Why would you even—"
"It's the first time you've shared a bed in ages, isn't it? I was starting to think that fellow's cock had rotted clean off. A perfectly healthy young wo—man, and he wouldn't even lay a hand on a pretty grandso—wife like this."
"What on earth are you sayinggg!!?"
Madam…
Ah, her face went red.
I miss my wife…
As the old woman's signature blend of bluntness and meddling detonated bomb after bomb, and Freyja's face flushed scarlet, the three of them decided to simply read the room and watch the situation unfold.
"So? Was it good?"
"Please…! Stop it already! Why would you bring this up right now…!"
"All right, all right. Honestly… Still, that boy sure is fiery! I hear he scooped you up and strode boldly through the manor just like old times?"
"Hwaaaaah!!"
Madaaam…
Whoa, Madam is actually furious.
When do I get to sweep my wife up like that…
Thanks to Estel lobbing explosive remarks right to the end, the meeting was forced into a brief recess until Freyja's temper cooled.
"Ahem…! Ahem…! My apologies. There was a bit of a disturbance…"
"Not at all, Madam. You and the Master are husband and wife, are you not? As the loyal head butler of House Evergarden, this Gordon considers it a most excellent development!"
"Yes! Of course! It's the most natural thing in the world — no need to be embarrassed! Yes! Haha…"
"Ah, Madam. About that tonic the young master supposedly gave you — might I perhaps receive a little—"
"Enough."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Hoo… Let us continue."
Having reined in the somewhat chaotic atmosphere of the meeting, Freyja cleared her throat and pressed on.
"The core issue is the monsters Viscount Bjorn has gathered. Given their nature, they are a bomb riddled with instability and danger — the kind of thing that, if discovered, could see you hanged for treason and left as dew on the execution ground."
"Um… I have a question. Couldn't we simply refuse? Even if we do owe him a debt, we've already paid the interest, and given the territory's current situation — while it may be difficult now — once 'that' venture gets underway, we should be able to repay the principal and then some. And even as debtors, I don't believe there's any real force compelling us to accept."
"An excellent question, Curmon. You're right — from our territory's standpoint, there is no reason to accept Viscount Bjorn's demands."
Curmon's question had merit. Evergarden Territory currently owed Viscount Bjorn a substantial sum, but there was absolutely no need for the territory to take on the unstable bomb that was a collection of monsters.
"But do you think Viscount Bjorn will quietly back down if we refuse?"
"A bomb as enormous as monsters can also be used as a weapon."
"As long as Viscount Bjorn holds them, he could smuggle monsters into our territory in secret and then report us. Our territory would be finished on the spot."
"Even if it only starts as a legal battle, and even if we were eventually found not guilty, we would still burn through enormous sums of money and time — and if he demanded payment of the debt in that window, we would have no means of producing it."
"Which is why, rather than wait for him to pull some scheme, it is better to accept his request for now and minimize the variables as much as possible."
"I see… My thinking was shortsighted."
Why was North Korea frightening?
Was it because its military was strong? Or because the nation itself was a great power?
No.
Most of its people spent their days worrying about where their next meal would come from, and its infrastructure was so dilapidated it couldn't even qualify as a developing country. If South Korea mobilized its full military strength, it could plant its flag at the farthest tip of North Hamgyong Province in under three days.
And yet North Korea remained a terrifying presence — precisely because it possessed nuclear weapons.
And to Viscount Bjorn, monsters were no different from nukes. Difficult to dispose of, yet capable of inflicting catastrophic damage the moment they were unleashed.
"The best approach would be to accept them as if we were cooperating, while making contact with the imperial government in advance and positioning ourselves as informants."
"Exactly. At present, that is our best option."
And so Freyja had found a way to let Viscount Bjorn's monsters into the territory while ensuring they never boarded the ship of the monster trade themselves — and then slip free.
"However, according to the intelligence we've gathered, Viscount Bjorn is believed to already have a backer on the level of an imperial heir, or someone comparable… What do we do if that side simply crushes us with raw power?"
The problem was Viscount Bjorn's backing.
Despite the monster collection taking place in the North, the House of Margrave Bores — the region's de facto rulers — had shown no reaction whatsoever. That alone suggested the Margrave was already entangled with Viscount Bjorn. And it was easy to infer that this went beyond a mere Margrave; to pull off something like this, he had to have connections reaching even higher.
"You're right. Viscount Bjorn's backer is clearly far too large for us to handle alone."
At Fenril's point, Freyja furrowed her brow slightly, as if vexed, and answered with a sigh.
But then—
"In that case… what if we acquired a powerful backer of our own?"
"…Ah!? Don't tell me…! So that's why you've been pushing that 'venture' all this time…?"
"I believe it's time I explained my plan in earnest."
A faint smile rose to Freyja's lips as she unfurled the parchment she had prepared.
Her plan was only just beginning.