Chapter 121: A New Life
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 121: A New Life
In the chill of the underground dungeon, Marzella unfolded a piece of paper that had been creased many times over.
As she smoothed it out, a fine white powder was revealed within.
A few days ago, Meisel had left her a blanket. One corner of it had a loose, messy thread. When Marzella had picked at it with her fingers to create a small opening, she found a piece of paper loosely stitched into the lining.
Inside that paper were Meisel’s instructions, along with this powder.
How on earth did I end up in this state?
Marzella beat her chest with a weak hand, swallowing her bitter resentment.
If only I hadn't entrusted that brooch to them... No, if only I hadn't gone to that guild in the first place...
Originally, Marzella could have lived without any major issues with the Grand Duchess. Even her clash over Reta was a manageable incident. But she had been swept up in the spiteful schemes of Meisel and the Merchant Association President, and now things had come to this.
She was on the verge of losing her position as Head Maid, along with everything she had built up until now.
— "Nanny. I mean, why would you do such a thing?"
Thinking of the young lady’s voice made her skin crawl.
Even earlier today, she had felt the urge to confess everything to the knights several times. But Marzella barely managed to maintain her reason.
Now is not the time to let emotions take the lead.
Confessing her accomplices wouldn't lessen her own guilt. Besides, how much punishment would a daughter of a Count really receive? At most, it would be a fine or house arrest. Above all, in this situation, the young lady was the only person Marzella could somewhat rely on.
She’s the one who should be most afraid of me opening my mouth.
Staring at the powder, Marzella let out several heavy sighs.
She had been told that if she didn't speak soon, the Grand Duke would take the matter to the newspapers. Whatever she was going to do, today was her last chance. Even though she knew there was no other way, her hands hesitated to move.
It’s fine. Look at how I’ve survived until now.
She would escape this castle and survive this time too, just to show them.
Marzella carefully refolded the paper—now emptied of the powder—and tucked it back into the hole in the blanket so it wouldn't be noticed. Meisel’s instructions had told her to eat the paper to destroy the evidence, but Marzella was no fool.
This paper, the sole piece of evidence, would now become her lifeline.
Once she got out, she would squeeze every bit of retirement money out of either the young lady or the Merchant Association President. Even if that failed, she had a secret hiding place outside the castle where she had been stashing jewelry. With that money, she could live anywhere for a while without having to beg for favors.
I’m sick of working under people anyway.
Maybe she should open a small shop? Or perhaps starting a small inn in Arsen wouldn't be bad.
I should even create something like a 'Couples' Night Package.'
Imagining a new life made her feel a bit better.
Clutching the blanket tightly to her chest, Marzella tossed the powder into her mouth in one gulp.
*
"…Did you hear what I said?"
The Marchioness asked, her eyes narrowing sharply.
"Ah, what did you say?"
"The fabric. Which of these two looks better?"
Before me lay two thin silk fabrics, one orange and the other closer to gold.
The Marchioness, who had been clamoring for a boutique, was finally having a dress made today. After Marzella was imprisoned, outsiders had been banned from the castle for a while. Because of that, Madame Ramondria had arrived later than scheduled. To satisfy the picky noblewoman’s tastes, she had brought almost every summer fabric in existence.
Thanks to that, the Marchioness had been agonizing over the fabrics for nearly half an hour.
Only two are left, so it would be nice if she just picked one, but…
"Neither of them."
The faces of Madame Ramondria and her staff turned pale.
"You—I mean, Your Highness!"
"Mother, your complexion is on the fairer side."
Actually, 'pale' would be more accurate. The Marchioness had thin skin, to the point where blue veins were visible at her temples, giving her a generally cold impression.
The Marchioness, who had been raising her voice, faltered and touched her cheek.
"And... and so?"
I reached into the pile of fabrics Ramondria had spread out and picked a lavender one and a slightly deeper blue one, holding them up to the Marchioness’s face.
"Colors like these make your face look much more alive."
"But orange is the trend in the capital right now…"
As the Marchioness looked skeptical, Ramondria nodded urgently.
"It seems Her Highness is correct; your complexion definitely looks more vibrant."
"Really? But…"
Seeing the Marchioness hesitate, I picked up the lavender fabric.
"Ramondria. We’ll go with this one."
"I haven't chosen yet!"
"This is the best one."
Seeing my overwhelming confidence, the Marchioness hesitated before her eyes sparkled.
"If both are good, should I get the blue one made too?"
"No. You agreed to only one dress."
"Honestly, so stingy…"
The Marchioness grumbled softly and pointed at the fabric with a careless finger.
"I'll take this one."
Ramondria let out a sigh of relief and instructed her staff to clear away the remaining fabrics.
"Then, I shall show you the lace for the sleeves."
Sigh. When will this tedious time end?
I compensated myself by stroking the soft hair of Raphael, who was sitting at the table reading a book as if he were used to this situation.
Still, one dress was a decent bargain.
The Marchioness’s letter had yielded unexpected results. Captain Samuel, having received her letter of introduction, had accepted the request for a performance. Consequently, the Cariso Troupe, which was traveling to Rondoris for their regular season, would hold a one-day special performance while passing through Blenheim.
It was the first opera performance in Blenheim in three years.
— "Why is that? Do the people of Blenheim dislike opera?"
— "It’s not that, but there’s a strong perception that Rondoris is the center of culture… so successful troupes tend to prefer that side much more."
That was what Alcent had told me when I asked before.
— "Blenheim’s social circle isn't that large, so it’s also difficult for troupes to get sponsorship."
In other words, even if they performed here, there weren't many invitations from nobles or extra perks for the troupe. Ultimately, if I wanted troupes to come often, I would have to invite them to the castle frequently and give the actors bonuses…
It sounded like a very cost-ineffective endeavor.
I swallowed a sigh. The 150,000 Danir I invested in Alcent wasn't technically my money. It was because Loik had returned the necklace. At the time, Loik seemed hurt, so I took the necklace without a word, but I had no intention of just pocketing that money.
I’m definitely going to pay back the 150,000 Danir with interest.
And if there was profit left over?
That’s mine, obviously.
And since I was going to invest anyway, I wanted to be as helpful to Blenheim as possible. I had harbored such ambitious aspirations, but…
At this rate, I might not even recover the principal.
It was about time to start thinking about what happens after the marriage contract ends. I needed to have at least a minimum slush fund just in case. I had heard that the Cecil’s Recipe booklets had recently started selling in Rondoris, but the profits were still pocket change.
Can I really not escape the need for money even after being isekai'd?
Meanwhile, Ramondria was introducing more than ten types of sleeve decorations to the Marchioness one by one. Making a living is truly difficult.
"…Instead of making the cuffs short, adding shirring like this to make them voluminous would also be lovely."
All the sleeves are pretty.
The ones with ribbons seemed cute, the ones with many pleats were pretty, and the embroidered ones looked luxurious. It felt like the entire atmosphere of a dress could change just by swapping the sleeves.
At that moment, a thought flashed through my mind.
In this world, the concept of detachable sleeves or collars didn't exist.
What if I turned this into a business item?
A lady from a wealthy noble family took it for granted that she should wear different clothes every day. This was especially true for someone as extravagant as Ladriel. However, in the case of ordinary nobles, they tended to rotate their indoor wear or light evening dresses several times.
That’s why they have to use their heads to avoid wearing the same dress to the same gathering.
If the sleeves could be changed, they could create a completely different atmosphere even if they wore the dress multiple times.
Blenheim’s commoners are relatively wealthy, so there will be many people buying high-end dresses.
Of course, there were hurdles. Nobles considered frugality a disgrace, so they might think changing sleeves was pathetic.
Usually, in romance fantasy novels, the protagonist shows up at a ball wearing it and all the problems are solved.
The protagonist appears—ta-da!—and the people around her whisper, "Oh my god, what is that unique dress?" Then the protagonist casually drops the name of the shop, and everything is sold out the next day.
But balls weren't held at the Grand Duke’s Castle.
Because I don't host them.
I hadn't even held a tea time since the one by the lake. The main reason was that social gatherings were just too exhausting. I preferred working at the castle, watching Blenheim change, and occasionally kissing Loik—anyway, that kind of thing suited my temperament better.
So, are detachable sleeves out of the question?
I was watching the Marchioness pick out sleeves with a critical eye when an unexpected person entered with a knock.
"Sir Johas?"
It was Johas, a high-ranking knight of the 1st Knight Division. When I first arrived in Blenheim, he had been a bit territorial, but now he was one of the knights who treated me with the utmost respect.
Today, however, his face was grimly set.
"I have an urgent report for Her Highness. I request that you clear the room."
I turned to the Marchioness.
"Mother, I’m sorry, but could you take Raphael and step out for a moment?"
Wait, this is my room, where am I supposed to go?
The Marchioness cursed with her eyes, but unable to talk back in front of others, she nodded. Soon, everyone, including Ramondria, the staff, and the maids, had cleared the room.
"Did something happen in the castle?"
At my question, Johas spoke in a low, heavy voice.
"The Head Maid is dead."