Chapter 209: The Finishing Blow
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 209: The Finishing Blow
Until now, Cecilia had never let her mouth rest when she was with him.
Naturally, there had never been a lull in their conversations. Perhaps that was why the current silence felt exceptionally awkward.
‘But why did she suddenly get so quiet?’
Was the Countess giving her a hard time?
He had overheard something about her being forced to relearn etiquette. It seemed to be working, as the Cecilia he saw today certainly looked like the demure daughter of a prestigious family.
He wasn't sure if that was a good thing, though.
‘Well, it’s not my concern.’
After a moment of thought, Perel scratched his head and turned away.
*
At Alprese, the capital’s most famous newspaper, Editor-in-Chief Grauzen grumbled as he flipped through weekly magazines published in Rondoris.
“To think I’m at an age where I still have to hunt for my own stories.”
He had no choice; every article his reporters brought him was dreadfully dull.
— “Bring me something alive, not these dead stories! Something that piques primal curiosity while sharply capturing the current trends! I want something vivid that gives people something to think about after they read it!”
He had roared at them during the meeting, but all he got in return were the rebellious glares of reporters that seemed to say, “Then why don’t you try doing it yourself?”
Regardless, Rondoris was the trendsetter of the continent. Flipping through their weeklies often yielded unexpected gems.
But luck didn't seem to be on his side this time.
Having failed to find a suitable lead, Grauzen finally picked up the Northern News. Strictly speaking, the Northern News was a weekly from Blenheim, not Rondoris.
‘I talked such a big game, and now I’ve come up empty.’
He was breaking into a cold sweat as he flipped the pages when a particular headline caught his eye.
[The Empire’s First Hot Spring Hotel, ‘Blueveil Hotel,’ Now Open!]
An unprecedented luxury resort where hot spring water flows into every room, ‘Blueveil Hotel’… A spectacular three-day opening ceremony was held.
…Saintess Constine attended as a server for the tea party, personally handing out refreshments… Above all, the surprise appearance of Antonel became a massive sensation.
He had heard rumors about a large hotel being built in the North, but…
‘Is this a typo?’
A Saintess attending as a server?
Yet, the name "Constine" was printed right there in black and white. Driven by curiosity, Grauzen read further.
The number of tourists visiting Blenheim this year has already tripled that of Rondoris… The Grand Duchess’s popularity is so immense that a saying has begun to circulate among the locals: “His Highness the Grand Duke protects Blenheim, and Her Highness the Grand Duchess raised it!”
In a gesture to wish for the North’s continued prosperity, the Blenheim family has made generous donations across the Empire:
Imperial Orphanage Union – 10,000 Danir
30 Poverty Relief Centers – 10,000 Danir
Orphanage Operating Fund – 10,000 Danir
Vinför Scholarship Foundation – 10,000 Danir
Academy Support Fund – 10,000 Danir
…
High Temple – 251 Danir
Grauzen’s eyes widened.
Why exactly 251 Danir for the High Temple? What was the intention behind this?
‘Surely she isn’t trying to mock the High Temple.’
Then again, could he be so sure?
Until now, Blenheim and the High Temple had maintained a neutral relationship. But now that Blenheim had a Grand Duchess who was a former Saintess candidate, it was only natural for that relationship to change—especially when that Grand Duchess was riding a wave of unprecedented success.
‘I think I can make something out of this.’
Just then, one of his reporters rushed into his office.
“Editor! I’ve found a great story!”
The reporter handed him a letter, explaining it was news sent from the High Temple just moments ago.
“Ha, hahaha!”
Grauzen slapped his knee and burst into boisterous laughter.
“This is going to be a very interesting article!”
He immediately called for a meeting.
*
“Ahahaha!”
The Empress didn't hold back her laughter. It had been a long time since she had laughed so heartily.
“Would you like to take a look, Young Marquis?”
Wiping a tear from her eye, the Empress handed the Alprese newspaper to Ferdin, the heir of the Frais family, who was sitting across from her.
Though he had already read it, Ferdin silently accepted the paper.
[Saintess on a Pilgrimage of Blessing, or a Trip to ‘Blueveil Hotel’?]
Saintess Constine recently departed for the North on a pilgrimage of blessing. However, it appears her true destination was the newly opened ‘Blueveil Hotel’ in Blenheim.
The Saintess reportedly attended the hotel’s opening ceremony, taking on the role of a server and handing out refreshments to guests—an unprecedented move.
Some speculate that the pilgrimage was merely an excuse and that the Saintess personally visited Blenheim to solicit donations. Indeed, the Grand Duchess of Blenheim donated 251 Danir to the High Temple.
The High Priest made a grand announcement regarding Blenheim’s donation, even mentioning it during a public service. However, he was later humiliated when it was revealed that the High Temple was merely one of many recipients. Furthermore, as it became known that the Grand Duchess donated 10,000 Danir to every other organization, a joke has begun to circulate that the 251 Danir was actually the Saintess’s daily wage for her service.
Considering Saintess Constine’s grand debut ten years ago with the High Priest’s endorsement, it is an ironic situation where their positions have been completely reversed. This reflects the formidable influence the Grand Duchess of Blenheim now wields…
“The rumor has spread through the capital in a single day,” the Empress remarked. “That for a mere 251 Danir, you can hire the Saintess as your maid.”
Ferdin quietly set the newspaper down without much of a response.
“Alprese was always so desperate to tear down the Imperial Family, but for once, they’ve written a proper article.”
To think that haughty girl acted as a servant.
The ladies-in-waiting joined in the Empress’s laughter, eager to please her.
The Empress hated Saintess Constine even more than she sought to check the Crown Princess. Of course, in the beginning, she had gone to great lengths to win Constine over. There was no better way to strengthen the Third Prince’s legitimacy than having the Saintess on his side.
However, the High Temple stood behind the Saintess, and the Empress’s resentment over what she could not possess only grew with each passing year.
“She was a headache, acting so cunning despite being nothing but an orphan girl.”
The Empress looked as though a long-standing congestion had finally cleared.
“They say there’s always someone better. To think your sister, Young Marquis, would provide me with such satisfaction.”
It seemed Annette’s refusal of the Empress’s invitation had been somewhat forgiven because of this.
What remained puzzling, however, was why the Empress had summoned Ferdin, the heir, instead of the Marquis himself to discuss this. Ferdin was not close enough to the Empress to share such candid conversation. Yet, the Empress acted with total lack of reserve, as if he were already her long-time confidant.
Seeing Ferdin’s stiff posture, the Empress’s lips curled into a slow smile.
“Are you wondering why I am telling you this?”
In truth, Ferdin had a rough idea of her intentions.
“Please, speak freely.”
At his calm reply, the Empress’s expression sharpened.
“Indeed. You looked intelligent from the moment I first saw you.”
Taking a sip of her now-cold tea, she continued leisurely.
“I cherish Marquis Frais, but… he is old now.”
She paused. “Don’t take it the wrong way. I am old as well.”
Ferdin listened in silence.
“I’m not blaming the Marquis. It’s just that when people get old, they tend to become fearful. Their judgment clouds.”
The Empress tapped her finger on the table.
“It is time for our Third Prince to step forward. And I have no use for cowards. I need a player—a risk-taker. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
The Empress intended to discard his father, the Marquis. And she was demanding that Ferdin take his place as her next instrument.
“…I understand.”
Ferdin replied with a cautious expression. The Empress seemed slightly displeased that it wasn't a definitive confirmation, but she soon smiled.
“Very well. It is a family matter, so you will need time to think.”
She readily dismissed him.
“But giving you time does not mean I will accept any other answer. You likely have internal family matters to settle, so see to them.”
His father probably didn't even know Ferdin had entered the palace today.
As Ferdin left the Empress’s palace with a heavy heart, a lady-in-waiting for the Crown Princess, who had been lingering nearby, stopped him.
“Young Marquis, Her Highness the Crown Princess wishes to see you for a moment.”
Swallowing a sigh, Ferdin eventually headed toward the Crown Princess’s palace.
“Ferdin! You’re here!”
Unlike the Empress, who had been all smiles, the Crown Princess’s face was deeply contorted.
“I greet Her Highness the Crown Princess.”
“Why are you being so formal!”
Cadellina practically dragged Ferdin into the drawing room.
“I told you to just call me Cadellina.”
She snapped at him, asking why Academy classmates were standing on such ceremony. In truth, they hadn't been that close during their Academy days, but being overly formal did feel a bit awkward.
Ferdin gave a slight nod.
After ordering tea, Cadellina put on a woeful face.
“The world is on fire, and I have no one to consult with.”
This act of playing the victim was a familiar tactic of hers. Her father wasn't on her side, her husband was away with the delegation, her ladies-in-waiting were useless, and the ministers did nothing but nag…
After venting for a long while, Cadellina pressed a hand to her forehead.
“And to top it all off, even Adrian took a leave of absence!”
“Adrian? Duke Kyle took a leave?”
Ferdin asked, looking genuinely surprised. It was well known that the Captain of the Imperial Knights never took time off.
At his words, Cadellina muttered with a look of pure frustration.
“He went to Blenheim. To ‘rescue’ the Saintess.”