The Fallen Lady Must Have a Cheeky Flavor
“Explain yourself in a way that I can accept.”
Father demanded an explanation from me.
The reason was obvious enough.
The most valuable “asset” in our barony was me.
Twenty-two years old, the young head of the family and at a marriageable age.
From the perspective of forming a marriage alliance with another noble house in the region to reinforce our inadequate defenses, the news that I had purchased three female slaves was decidedly unwelcome.
It was like tarnishing the Arnold Barony’s single most precious commodity.
“Father.”
“Speak. You will explain why you invested twenty million gold in those slaves, granted them farmland, and established research facilities.”
“I understand that you place great importance on my marriage.”
“Knowing that, you still pulled a stunt like this? I had arranged a match with the young lady of House Harrington. We were steadily building the connection—what on earth possessed you?”
“At our level, any marriage alliance we could hope for would just be those families doing us the bare minimum of courtesy for the sake of appearances. It wouldn’t solve a single real problem.”
I wanted to address something more fundamental than that.
I didn’t believe it was impossible.
I had already seen immediate potential in Constanze and Maron, and the goodwill I had built by steadily caring for the orphans was finally beginning to bear fruit.
“Until now, we have evaluated the talents of many orphans and, through our connection with the church, taken responsibility for their health as well.”
In the eyes of the world, I was probably known as something like an orphan collector.
Even the Madam had known I ran my business through orphans.
So what was the big deal if someone like me rescued a few pitiful slaves and placed them in an orphanage?
“There will be no obstacles to my path to marriage. And even if there are, it doesn’t matter.”
“You’re hammering a nail straight into your father’s heart.”
“I’m not saying I won’t marry. I’ll do it when the time is right. For now, I want to focus on nurturing the talents of the children I’ve brought here.”
Karin, the wolf beastman who would become the most reliable member of the guard once she found her place.
Constanze, whose black magic experiments showed the possibility of not only restoring her original position but even supporting her from the forefront if she chose to reclaim it.
And Maron, who had begun managing farmland the moment she arrived and had already finished sowing crops that only a druid could cultivate.
“If these three simply settle in, the problem of other races will cease to be an issue. We will be able to protect our territory with pride. We won’t lose any more of our people.”
“And what about an heir? I understand your intentions, but if your marriage prospects are ruined, we’ll have a crisis on our hands.”
Of course, there were lines even Father would not yield on.
The matter of succession.
Since I was his only child, it was natural for him to feel anxious.
“This may be presumptuous, but have you considered… exerting yourself a little, Father—”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“It was a joke. I’ll show you a grandchild before it’s too late.”
“Good. Even empty words are better than nothing.”
Still, Father did not doubt me greatly.
After all, I had been the one who, from the age of twelve, had aggressively pushed for the orphanage project after arriving in this world.
There were results. There was trust.
All that remained was conviction.
“I heard that in the last monster attack you took command personally and not a single person died. Well done.”
“It was thanks to the child I brought back this time.”
“…The one who uses black magic, I presume. Charge the cost of the research facility you prepared to my account. I’ll overlook that much.”
With this conversation, Father had gained the conviction he needed, and I had received approval to continue my project.
Nothing was holding me back anymore.
Full speed ahead.
*
“So annoying.”
The choker around her neck.
No, calling it constricting was an exaggeration.
It was so comfortable she could almost forget she was wearing it.
But.
“It probably won’t break even if I use magic.”
This filthy ornament seemed to bind not only her throat but her heart as well.
Her spirit, which had only begun to heal a few days ago after the collapse of House Eisner, had already cracked again because of the choker.
It felt as though the accessory existed solely to emphasize that she was no longer a count’s daughter, and the humiliation of it made her blood boil.
“He said it would be removed when I turn twenty.”
The contract Fabian had given her clearly stated that the slave restraint would be unconditionally removed upon reaching twenty years of age.
Even before then, if sufficient results were produced, the restraint could be released by mutual agreement.
Seven years was far too long.
Three years.
Constanze vowed to produce results within three years and return to her family.
She had been kidnapped and sold into slavery before she could even negotiate with her maternal relatives, but she still remembered the faint conversation she had overheard in the carriage that day.
Her mother’s family was attempting to intervene in the Eisner Countdom.
“They’ll hold on. They’ll definitely hold on, so I have to get back as fast as possible.”
Even if she returned to the countdom now, they would only tie her hands and feet, checking her at every turn so she could accomplish nothing.
Just like the first head of the family had done, she would secure overwhelming achievement in black magic here, then return to the Eisner lands in glory.
She was steeling herself with that determination when—
“Constanze.”
“W-what?”
The demonic existence who, during her maid training, had threatened her to wash even the tiniest speck of grease from the plates.
Alfred had come to her room.
“The black magic research facility has been completed in the room next door. Various books and experimental equipment have been installed. The Young Master wishes for you to exercise your will as you see fit.”
“That person really said that?”
“It is ‘Young Master.’”
“…Did the Young Master say that?”
“Yes.”
Having delivered the brief message, Alfred turned and left at once. Left alone, Constanze stepped forward with caution.
After confirming no one was in the corridor, she carefully moved to the adjacent room.
It had been completely empty when she first received her room assignment.
She had heard people coming and going for the past few days, but she had no idea what might be inside.
Swallowing hard, she turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. What awaited her was—
“Oh my god…”
Walls, ceiling, and floor finished with the latest magical protective materials.
A desk and chair positioned to catch the light from the window, and behind them, bookshelves packed with every major black magic tome.
On top of that, even the small isolation cases commonly used in black magic experiments.
He had said he would purchase any necessary tools, and it seemed the barony had provided everything possible at their level.
“He really… invested in me?”
At that, Constanze recalled a particular word from the contract.
Investment.
The document had clearly stated that for children who wished to remove their restraints quickly, the household would actively invest so they could produce results.
Fabian had kept his word.
The moment that realization hit her, strength left Constanze’s legs and she sank to the floor.
“Ha… haha…”
After her father had pushed reckless black magic experiments too far and perished along with the core members of House Eisner, including her mother.
Eleven-year-old Constanze had formally inherited the countship, yet she had been unable to do anything.
She had been controlled by the few surviving retainers and hadn’t even properly understood how the family was being run.
The very fact that she still referred to herself as the “count’s daughter” rather than “Count Eisner” was proof she had never truly felt she had inherited the title.
Eventually deciding this could not continue, she had set out to request help from her maternal family, only to be kidnapped at the perfect moment—likely betrayed by someone—and reduced to a product being prepared for the slave market.
And yet, in the place she had been sold to, there was someone who believed in her potential and was willing to invest in her.
“It’s ridiculous.”
She muttered the words self-mockingly.
But a faint smile played on her lips.
Young as she was, Constanze was still a proper black mage.
She wasn’t naïve enough to miss the value of the items in this room.
She was genuinely happy that someone had provided her with tools of this caliber.
It felt like being acknowledged.
It was the first time she had felt this way since her parents died.
Of course, she wasn’t grateful.
Why should she feel gratitude toward the scoundrel who had turned a count’s daughter into a slave?
She wasn’t grateful at all.
Not at all, but…
“He did seem to like french fries…”
Now the memory of spitting in his tea on her first day as a maid felt mortifying.
This level of investment was only possible when someone truly believed in another person’s potential.
She thought that if he had given her something, she ought to give him something in return.
Otherwise, her conscience would not let her rest.
#
“What’s this?”
After receiving Father’s approval, I had been investigating every possible avenue to provide more active support for SSR-rank orphans.
Karin’s case in particular looked difficult to handle, so I had been studying the habits of wolf beastmen to prepare appropriate measures, when—
“As you can see, they are french fries, Young Master.”
“I don’t recall asking for any.”
“If someone gives you food, why not just eat it? Why refuse even when it’s offered? You ate them happily enough last time.”
Constanze had suddenly appeared and thrust a plate of french fries at me.
Her words were incredibly cheeky, but her face was flushed bright red, making it look like she would be genuinely hurt if I refused.
“Did you make these?”
“Of course I made them. You should be grateful you get to eat my very first dish. These are french fries blessed with the grace of a count’s daughter, I’ll have you know.”
“Hmm…”
The fries were burnt to a crisp.
They had been left in the oil far too long; every drop of moisture had been driven out, and they had gone beyond crispy to outright rock-hard.
The honey-based sauce drizzled on top still had visible chunks of honeycomb floating in it.
For someone who had eaten nothing but professional chef cuisine since arriving here, the quality was rather disappointing, but—
“You’ve got talent for cooking.”
“Eh, really?”
“Yeah. If this is what you can do on your first try, I can look forward to the black magic you’ve been studying your whole life, can’t I?”
“Obviously. You already saw me use it.”
This was probably Constanze’s own way of sending a signal.
A signal of goodwill directed at me.
In that case, there was no need to criticize the taste.
Crunch!
I had suspected a tooth might come out halfway through, but…
“Like I said before, your face looks much better when you’re not scowling. It suits you.”
“Stop flattering me. It’s not like you’ll get anything out of it.”
“I was simply stating what I see.”
“That’s exactly why I’m telling you to stop. It’s not like I’ll make more just because you butter me up. This is the first and last time, got it? The first and last time I’m giving any to you.”
The fact that she could speak this comfortably was proof that my relationship with Constanze had improved considerably.
And so, carefully chewing the fries while worrying about my dental health, I wondered how much time had passed when—
“Young Master. I have something to show you.”
Maron opened the door, poking her signature deer horns inside.
In her hands was a wooden carving.
“A totem?”
A druid-crafted totem…
I was already intrigued about what she was going to say.