Chapter 15
Chapter 15
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: The Second-in-Command (4)
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It was like the giggle of a mischievous fairy, if he had to put it into words.
The kind of playful laugh from someone hiding during hide-and-seek, watching the seeker fail to find them and chuckling to themselves.
Lian followed the sound with his footsteps.
At its end stood a woman with a weary face, staring blankly at a pile of documents.
If he were to describe the impression he'd had of her from the times he'd seen her before...
'Bystander.'
When Lian had first started visiting the annex.
Even when Miguel and the other low performers were climbing the ranks.
Even now, with Lian as the de facto manager.
She had always stayed quietly in the background, focusing solely on her own work without drawing attention.
"Oh? Lian... sir?"
The woman looked up at Lian with frightened eyes.
As if a mischievous fairy were perched on her head.
A sly, giggling laugh echoed near the crown of her head, audible only to Lian's ears.
"Anna, was it?"
"Ah, yes."
"How's the work going? Manageable?"
"Eh. So-so."
Dry, flaky skin and cracked lips.
Bloodshot whites of the eyes and faint dark circles.
She looked like the one who truly hadn't slept properly for days.
"You okay? You don't look well."
"No, I'm... fine."
Her eyes darted anxiously, as if trying to avoid Lian's gaze.
Was she really the inside agent?
Maybe she was anxious because the spy lurking in the government office had vanished lately.
At least if she'd heard news of their capture, she might have fled in the night.
As it was, all she could do was toss and turn sleeplessly.
"You used to be a textile merchant, right, Anna? Actually, I'd like some advice on that."
"Oh. I see."
Her wariness eased slightly once he stated his business.
No point in blindly accusing her of being the inside agent.
Leon wouldn't want it handled that way either; they needed concrete evidence.
For now, he'd trust his instincts on that front.
"If you had to pick just one type of fabric to deal with, what would you choose?"
"Pardon?"
"Just curious."
Anna tilted her head largely, not grasping the intent behind the question.
The laughter from above her head quieted a bit.
"Hmm. If it were me..."
Still, she pondered it seriously.
"Cotton fabrics."
"Unexpected. I would've guessed silk... You're prioritizing versatility over higher value?"
She nodded slowly.
"But commoners wear one outfit for over ten years. Won't consumption hit a limit quickly?"
"Pardon? No, that's not true."
This time, she shook her head firmly.
Then her face flushed red, and she bowed her head deeply.
"Sorry. That was rude of me..."
"No, it's fine. I'm here for advice—pushback like that is welcome."
"Ah, yes."
"So why not?"
Of course, Lian already knew the reason for her rebuttal.
"Bandages."
"Pardon?"
"Because of the war... bandages are always needed... so they're consumables..."
"Ah! Right! I hadn't thought of that!"
Lian feigned surprise with expert acting, as if he'd truly overlooked it.
Anna's cheeks tinted pink, her mouth corners slowly curving up.
"Dealing with the royal army would definitely make good money. I hadn't considered it myself. Sharp analysis."
"R-Really?"
Pleased by the recognition of her skills,
Her initial hesitant wariness gradually loosened.
Now that the bait was set, time to lower the hook.
What info could an enemy spy gain by contacting someone from a major merchant house?
Especially when she was already infiltrated into the government office herself?
Probably...
"Ha, it'd be great to know their movements in advance. Guess that requires connections in the capital?"
"Oh. I have documents on that..."
"Really? Anna, you're more capable than I thought."
"If you track shipment volumes mainly for military supply items... it's easier than you'd think..."
Emboldened by the repeated praise, she pulled a bundle of documents from deep in her drawer.
"Ah..."
Realizing her mistake at last?
Anna's face drained to a pallor.
"Gotcha."
The invisible mischief-maker perched above Anna's head suddenly flitted away.
As if she'd lost interest now that Anna had no secrets left.
The inside agent's arrest proceeded quietly, without fuss.
They called guards from the estate to detain her temporarily,
Then formally handed her over to the security force.
A few days later,
Leon visited as security commander to commend Lian's achievement.
"Your resourcefulness never ceases to amaze me. How'd you find her in less than a day?"
"Just luck."
Lian tilted his teacup, scrutinizing the man across from him.
He looked utterly composed, aside from slight fatigue.
Come to think of it, on the day he'd delivered the lord's denunciation letter from his father,
He hadn't seemed like someone there to declare war.
Did Leon actually want to help the Lapis Lazuli Merchant House?
"What happens to her now?"
"Irrefutable evidence turned up. She won't see the light of day again."
Afterward, the security force searched her desk, belongings, and home thoroughly.
They found ample additional proof.
As she'd said, documents steadily compiling shipment data on military supplies.
Normally, it would've passed without notice given her job.
But now, it carried different weight.
"Of course, Father can't touch it anymore since he stepped forward as accuser."
Apparently, the lord's side was behind interrogating the spy to death.
This raised suspicions she'd been killed before naming her inside contact.
"Anyway, on behalf of His Majesty the King, I thank you, Lian."
Leon placed a bottle of liquor firmly on the table as he spoke.
Golden twin eagles—the royal seal—adorned the bottle.
Expensive, but cheaper than the wine Isabel favored.
"As the lord's son?"
"Grateful there too. I have no desire to inherit a bankrupt territory."
Leon wore a genuine look of relief.
At least better than his father, perhaps.
"Since it came up, as future lord, I'd like to commend you too. Anything specific you want?"
"Hmm. Let me think."
Lian pondered deeply.
This would surely deepen Isabel's trust,
And he'd glimpsed ways to actively use the hallucinated whispers—gains all around.
But that was that, and this was this.
"If you want, I could remove that necklace."
"Sorry, but that's Isabel's domain, isn't it?"
"Just know there are more ways to free a slave than you think."
Leon grinned and rose.
"No rush. Take your time figuring out what's truly best for you."
He patted Lian's shoulder and left the office.
"What's best for me..."
Instead of seeing off the guest,
Lian sat still, mulling over his words repeatedly.
Isabel leaned against a pillar near the terrace, sipping wine alone while gazing out the window.
"Leon?"
"He's gone."
Lian approached Isabel, holding the liquor bottle he'd received as commendation.
"So, what'd he say?"
"Thanks on behalf of His Majesty, and gave me this."
"Let me see. Hmph? The royals call this cheap stuff a reward?"
Words that could border on royal insult.
Even with only Lian to hear.
A wry smile crossed Lian's face at his master's arrogant, reckless speech.
"That wench who dared spy in my merchant house?"
"They say she'll never see the light of day."
"That's it? We need to hold her family accountable for reparations to the end."
No actual damage yet, but Isabel intended a harsh example.
Lian hesitated slightly.
Was it right to hold her family accountable too...?
"Lian? Your answer?"
"I'll estimate the provisional losses from this incident soon and report back."
"...Fine. Do that."
A vague sidestep of commitment.
Isabel seemed dissatisfied but ended it by sipping her wine.
They'd agreed to run the merchant house Lian's way until next spring.
Aftermath handling too.
"Lian. Don't forget—if you want that necklace off, you need to deliver satisfying results."
"Of course. The Lapis Lazuli Merchant House won't capsize in a mere squall."
This was just a minor hiccup.
Lian soothed her, gently embracing her waist.
"Right. It won't."
Isabel drained the remaining wine and beamed.
She looked up at Lian, softly caressing his cheek.
"You've grown so much, really."
Lian's height had surged again; he now towered over her.
"Any other business later?"
"No. Even if there was, it can wait."
"Good."
Her mouth curved slyly as her hand rested on his firm chest.
Soon, her garments slipped downward smoothly.
Lord Francis of Madella gripped his thinning hair fiercely.
"Damn it! That eldest son shielding that harlot...!"
Bam!
"Eek!"
As the lord slammed the table,
The man on the floor, nearly prostrating, trembled violently.
"No choice now. We'll have to use more direct means..."
"Direct means... you mean...?"
"Yes. We'll use what that old hag raised."
Cold sweat beaded on the kneeling man's nape.
The old woman the lord meant...
"Um..."
"More to say?"
Tap, tap, tap—
The lord drummed his fingers on the table, urging a reply.
The man, shaking like an aspen, prostrated further and forced out words.
"If it's the slaves she raised... actually, Lord Leon caught on recently, so we cleaned out the brokers along with them..."
The family serial murder case where Leon led the investigation and Lian provided an unexpected lead.
The mastermind: none other than Lord Francis.
"So nothing left?"
"Y-Yes... except what she's newly training..."
"Hah."
They'd severed ties with themselves just in time, unscathed.
But at the cost of discarding all their usable cards.
Cards painstakingly prepared over long years.
"Ramon Rajur! Does your family even intend to reclaim what was taken?!"
"I-I'm ashamed, my lord!"
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Isabel's late husband, Manuel Rajur.
His brother Ramon repeatedly kowtowed on the floor in apology.
"Find a way! Pressure that woman for new results! Hire thugs if you must!"
"W-We will try!"
"Don't just try—deliver results! Results!"
"Eek! Forgive me!"
Today too, Lord Francis's scalp flushed red to the crown.
His dry, straw-like hair fell limply in clumps.