Chapter 156: A Strong Desire
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 156: A Strong Desire
As the wind blew, strands of pale blonde hair escaped her braid and tickled the nape of his neck.
Before he could even process it, a heat flared up deep in his chest, settling just below his solar plexus.
Startled by the stiffening sensation, Loik slowed his horse to a steady walk.
“Aren’t we going to gallop on the way back?”
Annette turned to look at him with an innocent expression.
“Do you… wish to run?”
He tried to sound composed, but his voice cracked miserably at the end. He didn't have the confidence to ride like they had before, fearing the physical proximity would become far too stimulating.
“No, I like this too. I can actually enjoy the scenery.”
Annette gave him a bright smile and turned back to face forward.
Perhaps she had finally relaxed, as she leaned her back against him more comfortably than before. The fleeting brushes of contact kept triggering vivid, stray imaginings of the soft skin hidden beneath her clothes.
Loik pulled his waist back as far as possible, hoping Annette wouldn't notice his discomfort.
How much did Perel say the merchant guild’s transit tax was again?
Recalling the most boring thoughts he could muster, Loik continued to lead the horse at a sluggish pace.
*
By the time they returned to the castle, the sun had already set, leaving the world in twilight.
I dragged my trembling legs into my room, only to find Cecilia sitting in the darkness, illuminated by a single small lamp.
“You’re back?”
Her voice was heavy and low, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.
“……Why are you sitting in the dark?”
“Your Highness, I have something to tell you.”
Sensing the gravity of the atmosphere, I cautiously took a seat across from her.
On the table lay the script for Lady in the Flames. In the amber glow of the lamp, I could see that the rims of her eyes were flushed red.
“What is it? Did something happen?”
Cecilia hesitated as if she were about to make a grand proclamation, then finally spoke.
“Your Highness, I want to adapt Lady in the Flames myself.”
“You, Cecilia?”
“I read the work while you were out.”
Cecilia picked up the script with a reverent touch.
“I found myself daring to want to change Lady Violetta’s fate.”
“Who is Lady Violetta… Oh, you mean the female lead?”
Cecilia’s clenched fists trembled slightly.
“Why must a lady who did nothing wrong meet such a miserable end? I cannot accept it!”
After calming down my agitated maid, I listened to her explanation. It turned out that after the heroine successfully took revenge on the cheating couple, she became disillusioned with the world and entered a monastery. Cecilia wanted to change that ending.
It seemed she had become completely immersed in the script.
“But Cecilia… you’ve never written a script before.”
I calmly pointed out the core issue.
“T-That’s true.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, but this is a very important project.”
“But Your Highness, I really want to try!”
“I don’t need someone who wants to do it; I need someone who can do it.”
Looking into Cecilia’s bloodshot eyes, I spoke somewhat coldly. It was necessary to ground my maid, who had a tendency to rush into things without thinking them through.
However, Cecilia showed no sign of giving up.
“I’ll work really hard! I won’t even take a fee!”
Looking at her sparkling brown eyes, I swallowed a small sigh.
“If you work, you should be paid. It’s not about the money.”
“I know.”
Cecilia’s expression fell.
“I’m just trying to show you how determined I am.”
“Why do you suddenly want to write a script? Just because it seems fun?”
“Actually, I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”
Cecilia explained that she had been harboring a desire to try a new form of writing for some time now.
“Your Highness, I’m truly confident I can do this.”
After pouring her heart out, Cecilia clasped her hands together and gave me a pleading look.
What should I do…
This was an opportunity the Prince of Rondoris had created for me, even at the risk of falling out of favor with his own country.
However, in some endeavors, passion is the greatest asset one can have.
“Fine. Let’s have Cecilia write the script.”
Cecilia let out a sharp gasp at my words.
“In exchange, you have to work incredibly hard. If I don’t like the draft, I’ll look for another writer immediately.”
“Of course! And I’ll make sure it doesn’t interfere with my duties as your maid!”
“There’s no need for that. You’ll be busy writing, so you can take a leave of absence for the time being.”
“I can’t do that.”
Cecilia shook her head violently.
“The two of you are start—no, I mean, I still have important work to do.”
“You’re my maid. What important work do you have that I don’t know about?”
“I just do.”
Cecilia’s face brightened instantly as she picked up the script.
“Oh, there’s one thing you must add to the script.”
“What is it?”
“Snow Wine.”
Seeing Cecilia’s confused expression, I began to explain my vision.
*
On the western outskirts of the Grand Duchy lay a vast wasteland.
In the middle of a desolate field where even the wind felt parched, a monastery built of gray brick stood in isolation.
Originally, it had been a place where fugitive criminals gathered, but when a High Priest was exiled in the past, the building had been repurposed as a residence for him.
Consequently, its appearance was closer to that of a prison, but it was nonetheless called Gallid Monastery, named after the High Priest.
“Devotee, you haven't even finished half of your embroidery yet.”
A nun spoke in a harsh voice, snapping Meisel out of her daze as she stared blankly out the window.
In Meisel’s hands was a crude embroidery hoop with a floral pattern.
The nun snatched the hoop away.
“As punishment, you will spend the next week making hay, starting tomorrow.”
“What?”
“Others finish this in a week, yet you’ve been clinging to it for over ten days. It seems your body and mind have been consumed by sloth. It would be best to correct yourself through the labor of sweat.”
Meisel’s face turned a mottled red at those words.
“I am the daughter of a Count! Do you think you’ll be safe after daring to order me to do such a thing?”
“If you do not make hay, you will simply have to go without lunch.”
“Who cares about your trashy scraps of bread! I wouldn’t eat them even if you gave them to me!”
Meisel shrieked, but the nun simply turned her back and walked away, clearly accustomed to such outbursts.
The other devotees nearby glanced at her briefly before turning back to their own work with indifference.
That woman… she treats me like this just because the Abbot isn't here?
Self-sufficiency was the rule at Gallid Monastery. The devotees, who were little more than prisoners, had to earn their food through daily labor.
For a noblewoman like Meisel, the Abbot would usually grant her some small conveniences if her family sent a donation.
Perhaps resentful of that, the nuns would bully Meisel whenever the Abbot was away.
Just you wait. Once the Abbot returns…
But Meisel soon bit her lip. The Abbot’s favors were strictly unofficial. If she protested too openly, she might be thrown into solitary confinement again, just like last time.
Her eyes welled up with the sorrow of her plight.
Even at this moment, that woman would be laughing and enjoying herself by the Grand Duke’s side.
As rage surged within her, Meisel instinctively toyed with the necklace around her neck.
It was the only personal possession she hadn't had stripped away.
Every night, she fell asleep clutching the magic stone, imagining the most miserable downfall for the Grand Duchess.
That was Meisel’s only happiness.
Grand Duchess… I’ll kill you, no matter what.
「Of course you should. The time will come soon.」
The necklace seemed to resonate in response to her thoughts.
Without even realizing it, Meisel gave a small nod.
Though she didn't know when it would be, she felt a powerful conviction that the moment was not far off.
*
“Well then, shall we get to work?”
In the early afternoon, I sat at my office desk, enjoying the cool breeze drifting through the window.
I had just returned from a tour of the lakeside shopping district this morning.
The shopkeepers I met after so long were overflowing with energy.
— “Your Highness! Please, have a glass of freshly squeezed juice before you go!”
— “Please accept our gift as well! It’s an ointment made from herbs I dug up in the mountains myself!”
— “This is a paperweight carved by our village craftsman! It would be an honor if Your Highness would use it!”
They had said Blenheim had no specialties worth mentioning.
Looking at it now, that couldn't have been further from the truth.
It’s just that until now, there was no proper place to showcase them.
As proof, the customers visiting the lakeside were all amazed to find that Blenheim had so many local specialties.
This was incredibly encouraging for the various villages.
In the shopping district, there were several shops established on a village-wide basis. The residents would work together to create crafts or specialties, and then take turns running the shop to sell their goods.
— “In our village, every household dries meat, so we never thought people would actually pay money for it. I had no idea they’d like it this much!”
This was said by the owner of a jerky shop that sold thinly sliced dried meat.
As specialties brought forth by individuals began to sell well, other residents started joining in one by one, and the variety of products in each shop was steadily growing.
“This is the list of products organized by sales volume.”
Adem, who had recently been promoted to a general administrator, handed me a document.
I circled the top three items, excluding a few luxury goods with high unit prices.
“Let’s start with these three shops for now.”
Adem nodded with a proud smile.
“I will schedule meetings with the shopkeepers immediately.”
I intended to properly develop the selected products into Blenheim’s signature specialties, alongside Snow Wine.
Since the popularity of the products had already been proven, all that remained was to give them wings.
I was happily mapping out the next steps when Adem cleared his throat slightly.
“I sent the official notice to the Merchant Association as you instructed, but…”
“There was no response, I take it.”
I had sent the notice to the Merchant Association early yesterday morning.
Baron Gelfry, the association president, likely didn't realize it, but that had been the final chance I was giving him.
“Should I try sending another reminder?”
At Adem’s question, I gently shook my head.
I had given him more than enough time.
“Post the notices in Gold Lane immediately.”
It was the perfect weather to welcome a new president for the Merchant Association.